Legend
Poem
Mor and the Fairy Lover
Carmina Gadelica no. 511
(English translation from the original Gaelic version)
The mist is on the hill
The mist is on the hill
The mist is on the hill
And on the scree
The mist is on the hill
And in the glen
Where there met me
The comely maiden
'Tis the bright, brown-haired one
'Tis the bright, brown-haired one
'Tis the bright, brown-haired one
Who bore the sonto me
'Tis the bright, brown-haired one
Who bore the child
Though not gently
Did she nurseit.
Ill o hu o
Ill o hu o
Ill o ho ho
Little brown-haired Mor
Little brown-haired Mor
Little brown-haired Mor
Come back to thyson!
And thou shalt get the beautiful
String of troutfrom me
Alas and alas
And alas and alas!
Cold is the blast
Cold is the blast
Cold is the blast
Beside a hillock!Without fire
Without comfort orshelter
Alas and alas
And alas and alas!
Thy small soft mouth
Against my old grey snout
As I sing sadly
Beside a hillock!
Without fire
Without comfort or shelter
