Griogal Cridhe

Griogal Cridhe (literally "Gregor of the Heart", or "Beloved Gregor") is a traditional Scottish lament and lullaby that was composed in Gàidhlig by Mór Chaimbeul ("Marion Campbell"), the widow of Griogair Ruadh Mac Griogair ("Gregor the Red MacGregor") (1541–1570), the chief of the Clan MacGregor of Glen Strae, who was executed at Taymouth Castle, Perthshire, on April 7, 1570.

Lyrics

There are many versions of the lyrics (the untranslated words are vocables):

'S iomadh h-oidhche fhliuch is thioram

Sìde na seachd sian

Gheibheadh Griogal dhomhsa creagan

Ris an gabhainn dian

Chorus:

Obhan obhan obhan iri

Obhan iri, o!

Obhan obhan obhan iri

'S mór mo mhulad, 's mór

Dhìrich mi dh ´an t-seòmar mhullaich,

´S theirinn mi ´n tigh-làir,

´S cha d ´fhuair mise Griogal cridhe

´Na shuidhe mu ´n chlàr.

Eudail mhóir a shluaigh an Domhain,

Dhòirt iad d´ fhuil o ´n-dé,

´S chuir iad do cheann air stob daraich

Tacan beag bho d´ chré.

’S ged tha mi gun ubhlan agam,

’S ubhlan uil’ aig càch;

’S ann tha m’ ubhal cùbhraidh grinn,

'S cùl a chinn ri lar.

B ´annsa bhi le Griogal cridhe

Teàrnadh chruidh le gleann,

Na le Baran mór na Dalach,

Sìoda geal mu m´ cheann.

´Nuair a bhios mnàthan òg a´ bhaile,

´Nochd nan cadal sèimh,

´S ann bhios mis´ air bruaich do lice,

´Bualadh mo dhà làimh.

Many a night both wet and dry

Weather of the seven elements

Gregor would find for me a rocky shelter

Which I would take eagerly.

Chorus:

Obhan, Obhan, Obhan iri

Obhan iri O!

Obhan Obhan Obhan iri,

Great is my sorrow, great.

I climbed into the upper chamber

And lay upon the floor

And I would not find my dearest Gregor

At the table in his place.

Great darling of the World's people

They spillt your blood yesterday

And they put your head on an oaken stake

Near where your body lay.

Though now I have no apples,

And others have them all,

My own apple, fragrant, handsome –

And the back of his head on the ground.

I would be glad to be with dear Gregor

Guarding cattle in the glen

Instead of with the great Baron of Dalach,

White silk around my head.

While the young wives of the town

Serenely sleep tonight

I will be at the edge of your gravestone

Beating my two hands.