A version of the song collected from oral tradition by Irish scholar Patrick Lynch in Mayo in June 1802, for Edward Bunting's Collection, in which none of Lynch's two hundred collected and translated songs were ever published by Bunting. Patrick Lynch Irish Gaelic transcription in: The Edward Bunting Collection in Special Collections & Archives, Queen's University Belfast MS 4/26 Manuscript collection of Irish songs in Gaelic and some English prose translations by Patrick Lynch MS 4_26_23b, page 136, 1802 First two verses shown only. Patrick Lynch Irish Gaelic fair copy (neatly re-written) with four verses: MS 4/10 Manuscript collection of Irish songs in Gaelic by Patrick Lynch MS 4.10.06, page 6, 1802 Patrick Lynch Irish Gaelic fair copy: Chaitilin Tiriall Caitilín Tiriall Mo mhile creach maidne nár fáigeadh mé Ar bhruach Loch Airil le fáire an lae Ar shúil go bhfuighinn amharc ar Chaití na gcraobh Mar chuala mé teastas ar breaghacht a sgéimh Is binne í ná an iomad da cheoltaibh sígh 'S ar gile í iná sneachta fo dho ar a tslígh Ni fhaicfhid bean leanna fón tsráide so shíos Nach nólfa mé sláinte Chaitilín Tiriall. Fuair mise litir do sghríobh le stuaim 'S ar mithid liom labhairt ar Chaití na gcuach Plánda linbh ta suídheamhuil suairc A samhuil ní feasach mé shíos nó shuas An sgeul so dírim chluineas go leor On Bhóin go Gaillimh 'sgo Clárthuibh Múmhain Gurab aoibhin don talamh í a shiubhlan a tseóid A mbian a cuach ag gairm gach aon lá Note on spelling: verse1 line 4 breá, breágh, breagh, breadh = fine, lovely, handsome, beautiful, comely, splendid breaghacht, breadhacht = finery, beauty, ornament bréa, bréagh = lie, falsehood, deceit bréagach = false, lying verse 3 line 3 Plánda = plant; comely person Plánda breá linbh = fine comely child suídheamhuil = calm, settled, quiet, sedate; good deportment, noble verse 4 line 1 dírim = numerous, plentiful A Patrick Lynch translation is probable in a manuscript not as yet available to view. A literal translation 'Tis a pity (My thousand morning woes) I am not left On the shores of Loch Eirill waiting for daylight Hoping to catch a glimpse of Kitty of the tresses As I heard a testament (report) to the finery of her beauty She's sweeter than many of her fairy songs She's whiter than the snow beneath her on her way Will not see the ale house wife along the whole street Who would not drink to the health of Caitlin Trial. I got to write a letter with prudence It's time for me to talk of Kitty of the tresses A comely child that is pleasantly calm Like I am not aware of down or up This is a story I hear plenty enough From the Boyne to Galway and the Munster Registrars May the earth delight her with jewels as she travels A cuckoo's calling for food every day .
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