An Example of a Famous Macaronic Song: "Siuil a Run"

A long time ago I learned a macaronic song, consisting of English, Irish, and nonsense words, called "Siuil a Run." I remember singing it at Notre Dame parties (1966-1970) with Mike Gerrity and maybe Brian Wilson. At the time I had no idea there were Irish-Gaelic words in the song (the very title means, "Walk, My Love!" in Irish). The title is pronounced /SHOOL ah ROON/.

Macaronic songs and poems incorporate at least 2 languages, and sometimes more (see my attempt at a macaronic poem in the previous blog posting). Wikipedia give the following as the lyric to "Siuil a Run." In fact, there is no definite lyric but many variations:

I wish I was on yonder hill

'Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill

And every tear would turn a mill

Is go dté tú mo mhuirnín slán

Chorus

Siúil, siúil, siúil a rúin

Siúil go socair agus siúil go ciúin

Siúil go doras agus éalaigh liom

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán

I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel

I'll sell my only spinning wheel

To buy my love a sword of steel

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán

I'll dye my petticoats, I'll dye them red

And round the world I'll beg my bread

Until my parents shall wish me dead

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán

I wish, I wish, I wish in vain

I wish I had my heart again

And vainly think I'd not complain

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán

But now my love has gone to France

to try his fortune to advance

If he e'er comes back 'tis but a chance

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán

One translation of the Irish chorus is

Go, go, go my love

Go quietly and peacefully

Go to the door and flee with me

And may you go safely my dear.

 

A youtube performance by Clannad": http://youtu.be/4ZP-4B7kHqA

Experimental Macaronic Poem

My Own Vida Loca 

Macaronic Poem (German, English, Irish, Latin, Spanish)

Mein verrueckt, wahnsinniges Leben

Ein Durcheinander of joys, Leiden, and chaos,

Unexpected, surprising Einsamkeit,

And even more surprising moments of Einigkeit und . . . sogar,

Liebe, Grá, Amor.

Lieber Gott, Mo Chara,

Shelter me under the shadow of your wings,

Hold me i mbos a láimhe thú

Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae

por favor!

Bob Coughlin 

November 22, 2011