Shea sude Shearam an Rode a Dimashee
| TYPE | 3 - Complex Melody |
| TOPIC | Love Song |
| TUNE STRUCTURE | 20 bars |
| VERSE STRUCTURE | 4v 4l |
| TIME SIGNATURE | 64 |
| KEY SIGNATURE | ♭♭ |
| TONAL CENTRE | D |
| INCIPIT | GAFGE♭E♭FDB♭,E♭GD |
| GENRE | Amhrán Mór |
| TEXT SOURCE | Bunting Notebooks. Special Collections. QUB Library. MS 7.176 |
| TUNE SOURCE | A Collection of the Most Celebrated Irish Tunes (Dublin: John and William Neal, 1724), p.10 |
| FIRST LINE | Súd é síos an ród a d'imig sí |
| NOTATED INCIPIT | |
| The composer of this love song is unknown; the words are recorded in Bunting’s manuscripts. The song also appears to be an example of a dialogue song or ‘agallamh’, as the speaker of the first verse is a man, with the remaining verses spoken in response by the woman. For these details and other notes on the Neals’ Celebrated Irish Tunes, see Nicholas Carolan’s modern edition (1986; 2010 revised ed.), p.90. | |
Súd é Síos a’ Rod a d’Imigh SíSúd é síos an rod a d’imigh sí,Cúl na bhfáinniugh, slán go dtillid sí;Méara míne, sgríobhaidh sí is sinnidh sí,Is gheobhaidh mé bás dá grádhh mur dtigidh sí.Ga dtagaidh an Nodhlaic ní bhfeicear ‘s mo sgáile ‘rís,A ghiolla nár choraidh a dtosach nó a lár na haoidhe;Go dtainic a’ solus go folusach ‘lár a’ tigh,Is tú rinne an codladh is measa ar dearnadh riamh.Mo mhilliugh ‘s mo dhíth, cá bhfuighe mé comrádaighMur racha mé síos go tír na n-ógánaigh,Mar ‘bfuil a’ fer croidhe ‘dhéanadh caint is cómhrádh liom?Fáigidh mé a’ tír so, tá sí ró-thóigeálach.Paidir no creid le m’ bhél ní minic a dubhairt,Nó ‘Aifrionn na gCréacht ní théighim a’ feacadh mo ghlún;Le fear ar a’ tsaoghul nír leig mé faice mo rún,Is mealladh mé féin tar éis mo ghliocais mur súd.-QUB Bunting MS 7/176 (Suggested in Nicholas Carolan 2010, p.90)
Down there yonder is the road she went, The head of ringlets, may she come back safely; With smooth fingers she writes and plays music, And I will die with love of her if he does not return. Until Christmas comes my shadow will not be seen again, O lad who stirred not in the beginning or in the middle of the night; Until the light came early into the middle of the house, It is you who made the worst sleep that was ever made. My destruction and my want, where will I get friends Unless I go down into the land of the young men, Where that hearty man is who will talk to me and make conversation? I will leave this land because it is too critical. It is not often that I have said a Pater or Credo, Nor do I go to bend my knee at the Mass of the Wounds; I did not reveal the smallest part of my secret to any man in the world, But I was fooled in spite of all my cleverness in that way.(Translation from Nicholas Carolan, 2010, p.90.)