Recommend classic Irish folk songs

Mount craigie/Mount Spencer/The crumbling wind/Growing every day/Danny Boy.

Danny boy "Danny boy" lyrics:

Oh, Danny boy

The pipeline is calling

From Glen to Glen to the foot of the mountain.

Summer has passed and all the flowers have fallen.

It is you, but you have to leave, and I have to wait.

But when you are on the grass in summer, come back.

Or when the valley is silent and snowy.

Whether in the sun or in the shadow, I will be there.

Oh Danny boy Oh Danny boy I love you so much.

But if you call me, because all the flowers are falling

If you are dead, you may be dead.

I'll find where you're lying.

Kneel down and say "Long live"

But when you are on the grass in summer, you will come back.

Or when the valley is silent and snowy.

It's where I'll be in the sun or shadow.

Oh Danny boy Oh Danny boy I love you so much.

Translation:

Later, Li Ao translated it into Chinese "tomb man":

Oh, Danny boy,

When the bagpipes sound and the valleys line up,

After summer, roses are unbearable.

You, you are far away,

And I, I've been buried here for a long time.

When the grassland passes the summer,

When it's snowy.

Ren Qingkong, Wan Li,

Let it be full of clouds.

Oh, Danny boy,

I love you so much, waiting for you to wander.

Oh, say you love me, and you will come,

Even if the dead are like this,

A preliminary judgment on the deceased.

Thank god for heaven and earth,

On the barren grave,

Please find me, find me,

Looking for my remains.

Even if your footsteps are soft and above me,

My whole lonely grave feels sweet and warm,

You lean forward and say your love,

I will die peacefully until I am with you.

Along Sally Garden Sally Garden

Poetry of Ye Zhi (Irish)

It's next to Sally Garden.

I have been to Sally Garden.

I met my lover.

I met a beautiful woman.

She passed Sally Garden.

Guo yi sha Li yuan

With snow-white feet

Feet as white as jade

She told me to love easily.

Tell me not to be infatuated

As the leaves grow on the trees

Love is like a green pine branch.

But I am young and ignorant.

She won't agree.

Stubborn ideas

young and ignorant

In the field by the river

Walk along the river.

I stand with my love.

I am with a beautiful woman.

On my sloping shoulders

She held out her snow-white hand.

Jade hands are as white as snow.

Tilt my shoulders.

She told me to live an easy life.

Tell me not to fight for my life.

When grass grows on the bank

Life is like a grassy weir.

But I'm young and stupid

At that time, he was few and stupid.

Now my eyes are full of tears.

Now there are tears.

Spanchil Mountain is a poem called Spanchil Mountain. The author Michael Considine was born in 1850, and immigrated to the United States from Spanhill around 1870. Some of his relatives also moved to America, but some stayed, such as his five-month-old nephew John. Michael worked hard after going to America, hoping to take over his lover and get married. Unfortunately, he didn't save enough money for his lover to emigrate until his death. In the earliest version of this poem, his lover clearly stated that he was "Mack the Ranger's daughter", instead of "Farmer Ned's daughter" in the current popular version. She is Michael's childhood sweetheart Mary McNamara. After working in Boston for about two years, Michael went to California and suffered from illness for a long time. He felt that he was going to die soon, so he wrote this song "Spencer Hill" and sent it back to his hometown of Ireland to commemorate his love. Michael died on 1873. Some people say that he was finally buried in Spanhill, but others say that he was buried in California. And his lover, Mary McNamara, never married.

English lyrics of Spencer Hill

Last night, I was lying in bed, dreaming that the good days had passed.

I was bent on roaming in Ireland, and I really flew.

I set foot on a vision and followed it with will.

Until the next stop, I anchored at the cross near Mount Spencer.

It was June 23rd, the day before the fair.

When Irish children and friends gathered there,

Young, old, brave and brave people all come to perform their duties.

At Clooney parish church, a mile from Spanhill.

I'll meet my neighbors and listen to what they have to say.

The old ones are all dead, and the young ones have turned white.

I met the tailor quigley, who was as bold as ever.

Of course, when I lived in Spencer Hill, he often mended my pants.

I called on my first and only lover in a hurry.

She is as beautiful as a lily and as gentle as a dove.

She put her arms around me and said, "Johnny, I still love you."

She is the daughter of the farmer, Meg, and the pride of Spencer Hill.

She is the daughter of the farmer, Meg, and the pride of Spencer Hill.

Spencer Hill's Chinese Translation

Recall last night's dream

Gone happy time

My mind is in distant Ireland.

Wander at will

I went forward to pursue the scene.

With an ardent desire

Until it's moored at Spencer Hill.

The port of the town.

Make me happy.

This is a fresh landscape.

Whispering voices echoed in

A place where I often miss my childhood.

I can hear you clearly.

Familiar stereo

That's a stream that flows to Mount Spencer.

Sing softly

Temporary willfulness

I was lying on the grass.

All the partners in the school

Suddenly appeared beside me.

We danced on our way home.

With beautiful dreams

The Music of Martin monaghan

Flying at the crossroads of Spencer Mountain

It's already June 23rd.

The market will open tomorrow.

Irish children and friends

Gather here

They prayed devoutly.

Young or old, brave or reckless.

At the local church.

Next to Spencer Hill.

The road through childhood

I visited my former neighbor.

Young people are getting old.

All the old people are gone and dead.

I met quigley, the tailor.

He is as reckless as before.

During my life in Spencer Mountain,

He sewed pants and clothes for me.

Think of first love.

I flew to her door.

She is as pure as a lily.

As gentle as a dove

"Oh, Johnny, I still love you." She said.

Her arm encircles my shoulder.

She is the daughter of farmer Ned.

She is the pride of Spencer Mountain.

I dreamed that I was kneeling on one knee.

Kiss her like before.

Ah, Johnny, you're just kidding.

Repeat the trick played in those days.

The cock began to crow in the early morning.

The cry was loud and harsh.

I woke up from my bed in California.

Thousands of miles away from Mount Spencer.