The Island

Waited patiently on the quay for two hours for a lift to the island...unfortunately the pilot was on a shout with the rnli so I was left sipping lattees...and waiting...

So my trip was cancelled...for today... I was reminded however of this.

'SÉ FÁTH MO BHUARTHA

Sé fáth mo bhuartha nach bhfaighaim cead cuarta
Sa ngleanntán uaigneach ina mbíonn mo ghrá;
Bíonn mil ar luachair ann is im ar uachtar
Is i dtús an fhómhair a bhíonn na crainn faoi bhláth.
Níl gaoith aduaidh ann, níl sneachta buan ann;
Tá caladh is cuan ann ag loing 's ag bád;
Tá tuilleadh bua ann, 's níl tuaras na Cruaiche ann,
An té a dhéanfá suas lena mhuirnín bán.


The translation is

IT IS THE CAUSE OF MY SORROW

It is the cause of my sorrow that I can't visit
The lonely glen where my love dwells.
There is butter and honey there
And the flowers bloom at the beginning of autumn.
There is no north wind, no enduring snow.
There is a harbour for ships and boats there.
There are more gifts there, no pilgrimage to Croagh Patrick,
Whoever would win the affections of a fair sweetheart.

That's just the first verse....dedicated to a friend....just saying