Le Aonghas Mac ‘ill Fhaolain / by Angus Y MacLellan

Thig a nall ‘s thoir dhomh do làmh
Ann ad ghluasad na biodh dàil,
Chum ‘s gun innsinn ann an dàn
Meud a’ ghàidh thug mi do Mhattie.

Come on over, take my hand
Don’t delay in coming,
So that I can tell you my song
How great is my regard for Mattie

Bha mi’n dè ‘s a’bhaile shìos
Thainig sid’ nach robh gum’ mhiann,
Gaoth a’ sèideadh trom ‘on Iar
‘S frasan lionmhor tighinn gu talamh.

Yesterday I was downtown
When unpleasant weather arose,
The wind blew hard from the West
With frequent showers falling.

Dhèonaich mise anns an am
Ionnsaidh thorit air tighinn a nall,
Ged a dh’fhiach cha deachaidh leam
Leis cho trom ‘s a bha a’ghaillionn.

It was then I wanted to
Try to come over,
Even though I was unsuccessful
Because the storm was so fierce.

Sin nuair thainig caraid ghaoil
A thuirt rium am briasthran caomh;
“Seo mo charbad ‘s bheir e saor
Thu an taobh a tha do dhachaidh.”

Then came my dear friend
Who said to me in kind words:
“Here’s my car for free
To take you homeward.”

Se MacFhearghuis grìnn a bh’ann
Bha cho caoimhneil rium ‘san am
Iarmad uaislean gun mheang
A bha thall an Tir nam Beannaibh.

It was the fine Ferguson
Who was so kind to me right then,
The descendant of true gentlemen
Who once lived in the Land of the Mountains.

Beannachd leat is seo mo làmh
Ge b’e dè tha dhomh an dàn,
Gum bi cuimhn’ agam gu bràth
Air cho càirdeil ‘sa bha Mattie.

Fare thee well and here’s my hand
Whatever might lie in store for me,
I will forever remember
Mattie’s great generosity.

Angus Y MacLellan was keeper of the lighthouse on Margaree Island, and a contemporary of Mattie Ferguson. He wrote many songs and poems in Gaelic, including ‘S E ‘m Bèth aig Matà a Fhearr.

This is the poem mentioned in the story of Mattie Ferguson and Angus Y (also here at Cousin Agam Fhèin).

Seisd:
I hiuraibh o, i hiuraibh o
Tiugainn mar so ma thu connradh bhuat
I hiuraibh o, i hiuraibh o
‘S e’m bàth aig Matà a fhearr.

Chorus:
I hiuraibh o, i hiuraibh o
Come along if there’s anything you need
I hiuraibh o, i hiuraibh o
Mattie’s store is the best.

‘S e Matà fear gnothuich as ciataiche
Tha ‘n diugh an taobh stigh de na criochan so
‘N a sheasamh mu d’choinneamh ‘g a d’riarachadh
Chan iarr e obair as fhearr.

Matthew is the most elegant businessman
Who dwells today in these parts
Standing in front of you, satisfying your needs,
He could not ask for more congenial work.

Ma tha cupa no bruis agus siabunn bhuat
No na bhios ad dhith thoirt na fiasaig’ dhiot;
No cungaidh a dh’uraicheas d’fhiacalan
‘S e’m buth aig Matà a fhearr.

If you need a cup, or brush, or soap,
Or whatever you need to shave your beard
Or medicine that will freshen your teeth,
Mattie’s store is the best.

Ma bhios tu a’sgriobhadh gu nigheanagan
‘S ag innse do ghaoil dhaibh an diomhaireachd;
Biodh agad am paipear as finealta
As a’bhuth aig Matà a fhearr.

If you’re writing to young girls
And you wish to divulge your love for them
Get yourself the most elegant notepaper
From Mattie’s store—it’s the best.

O chaileag ma’s math leat gach suil bhi ort
‘S na gillean air mhire ‘g a d’ionnsaigh-sa;
Dean cabhag is ceannaich am fudar-a
Tha ‘s a’bhuth aig Matà a fhearr.

O young girl, if you want to attract every eye,
And have young men in a frenzy to approach you
Make haste and buy the powder
In Mattie’s store—it’s the best.

Gun tuit iad cho grad ‘s ged a bhuiailteadh iad
Nuair chi iad cho grinn ‘s a than’n snuadh bhios ort;
Ma chuireas tu pairt air do ghruiadheanan
‘S e an rouge aig Matà a fhearr.

They drop down as if they’d been struck
When they see how enticing your skin is
If you apply some to your cheeks:
Mattie’s rouge is the best.

Ma leagair le cnatan no fiabhras thu
‘S tu fulang mar dhuine ‘g a riaslachadh:
Gu deimhinn aig Matu tha iocshlaint dhuit
Dean fhiachainn ‘s bidh tu na’s fhearr.

If you are laid low by cold or fever
And suffering like a man being mangled
Truly, Mattie has a cure for you
Try it, and you’ll feel better.

Ma bhuailear gu grad leis an deideadh thu
‘S do chlaigeann a’ dol as a cheile leis:
A bhurraidh, na fulang is leagheas ann
‘S e’m bàth aig Matà a fhearr.

If you’re suddenly struck by toothache
And your head is splitting because of it
You clown, don’t suffer when there’s a cure:
Mattie’s store is the best.

Tiugainnibh, tiugainnibh, ‘n ar ciadan sibh
Is sgiathaibh cho luath ris na riabhagan leam:
Tha baile is baile, ‘s gach bial a’glaodh,
‘S e’m bàth aig Matà a fhearr!

Come along, come along in your hundreds
And fly with me, as swiftly as the larks.
Every town and village, every mouth is shouting:
Mattie’s store is the best!

From An Innis Aigh (“The Happy Island”)
by Duncan Hugh MacLellan