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Beloved Gregor

Runrig


'S iomadh oihche fhliuch is thioram
Side nan seachd sian
Gheibheadh Griogal dhomh-sa creagan
Ris an gabhainn dion

Eudail mhòir a shluaigh an Domhain
Dhòirt iad d'fhuil an dè,
'S chuir iad do cheann air stob daraich,
Tacan beag bho d'chrè

Obhan obhan obhan iri
Obhan iri o
Obhan obhan obhan iri
'S mor mo mhulad 's mor

B' annsa bhi le Griogal cridhe,
Teàrnadh chruidh le gleann,
Na le Baran Mòr na Dalach,
Sioda geal mu m' cheann.

Obhan obhan obhan iri
Obhan iri o
Obhan obhan obhan iri
'S mor mo mhulad 's mor

Nuair bhios mnathan òg a' bhaile
Nochd 'nan cadal sèimh,
'S ann bhios mise air bruaich do lice,
Bualadh mo dhà làimh.

Obhan obhan obhan iri
Obhan iri o
Obhan obhan obhan iri
'S mor mo mhulad 's mor

--oOo--

Many a night both wet and dry
Weather of the seven elements
Gregor would find for me a rocky shelter
Where I would take refuge.

Great darling from the "Domhainn" folk
They let your blood yesterday
And they put your head on an oaken stake
Near where your body lay.

Obhan, Obhan, Obhan iri
Obhan iri O!
Obhan Obhan Obhan iri,
Great is my sorrow, great.

I would be glad to be with dear Gregor
Guarding cattle in the glen
Instead of with the big Baron "Dalach"
White silk around my head.

Obhan, Obhan, Obhan iri
Obhan iri O!
Obhan Obhan Obhan iri,
Great is my sorrow, great.

While the young wives of the town
Serenely sleep tonight
I will be at the edge of your gravestone
Beating my two hands.

Obhan, Obhan, Obhan iri
Obhan iri O!
Obhan Obhan Obhan iri,
Great is my sorrow, great.

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