Lullabies of England, Scotland and Wales listen online
Seóthín, seóthó, mo stóirín, mo leanbh,
Mo sheoid gan chealg, mo chuid den tsaol mhór.
Seóthín, seóthó, nach mór é a taithneamh,
Mo stóirín ina leaba, ‘na chodladh gan brón.
A leanbh mo chléibh, go n-éiri do chodladh leat,
Séan agus sonas a choice ‘do chomhair.
Seo beannacht Mhic Dé agus téagar a Bhuime leat.
Téir a chodladh gan bíogadh go ló.
Ar mhullach a tSí tá síoga geala,
Fá chaoinré an earraigh ag imirt a spóirt
Seo iad aniar chun glaoch ar mo leanbh
Le mian é a tharraing isteach sa Lios Mór.
Goirm thú, a chroí! Ní bhfaighidh said do mhealladh
Le brí a gcleas, ná le binneas a gceol.
Tá mise led’ thaobh ag guí ort na mbeannacht,
Seóthín, a leanbh, ní imeoidh tú leo.
Os comhair mo lao go míochair ceanúil,
Tá dílroisc aingeal ag faire ina threo,
Le mórghrá dian á’ iarraidh chun bealaigh
Mar b’aoibhne Flaithis dá rachadh sé leo.
A stór mo chroí, luigh siar i do leaba,
Le taobh do mhama is ea fhanfair go fóill.
Ní mór liom ag Día mo shiamsa ‘gus m’aiteas,
Mo ríocht ar talamh i dteannta mo bhróid.
Oh hush thee my dove, oh hush thee my rowan,
Oh hush thee my lapwing, my little brown bird.
Oh fold thy wings and seek thy nest now,
Oh shine the berry on the bright tree,
The bird is home from the mountain and valley.
Oh horo hi ri ri. Cadul gu lo
Huna blentyn ar fy mynwes,
Clyd a chynnes ydyw hon;
Breichiau mam sy'n dynn amdanat,
Cariad mam sy dan fy mron;
Ni chaiff dim amharu'th gyntun,
Ni wna undyn â thi gam;
Huna'n dawel, annwyl blentyn,
Huna'n fwyn ar fron dy fam.
Huna'n dawel, heno, huna,
Huna'n fwyn, y tlws ei lun;
Pam yr wyt yn awr yn gwenu,
Gwenu'n dirion yn dy hun?
Ai angylion fry sy'n gwenu,
Arnat ti yn gwenu'n llon,
Tithau'n gwenu'n ôl dan huno,
Huno'n dawel ar fy mron?
Paid ag ofni, dim ond deilen
Gura, gura ar y ddôr;
Paid ag ofni, ton fach unig
Sua, sua ar lan y môr;
Huna blentyn, nid oes yma
Ddim i roddi iti fraw;
Gwena'n dawel yn fy mynwes.
Ar yr engyl gwynion draw
Huna blentyn ar fy mynwes,
Clyd a chynnes ydyw hon;
Breichiau mam sy'n dynn amdanat,
Cariad mam sy dan fy mron;
Ni chaiff dim amharu'th gyntun,
Ni wna undyn â thi gam;
Huna'n dawel, annwyl blentyn,
Huna'n fwyn ar fron dy fam.
Huna'n dawel, heno, huna,
Huna'n fwyn, y tlws ei lun;
Pam yr wyt yn awr yn gwenu,
Gwenu'n dirion yn dy hun?
Ai angylion fry sy'n gwenu,
Arnat ti yn gwenu'n llon,
Tithau'n gwenu'n ôl dan huno,
Huno'n dawel ar fy mron?
Paid ag ofni, dim ond deilen
Gura, gura ar y ddôr;
Paid ag ofni, ton fach unig
Sua, sua ar lan y môr;
Huna blentyn, nid oes yma
Ddim i roddi iti fraw;
Gwena'n dawel yn fy mynwes.
Ar yr engyl gwynion draw.
Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn,
The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn.
But where is the boy, who looks after the sheep?
He's under a haystack, he's fast asleep.
Will you wake him? No, not I,
For if I do, he's sure to cry.
Rock-a-bye, baby, in the treetop,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock;
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.
Baby is drowsing, cosy and fair.
Mother sits near, in her rocking chair.
Forward and back the cradle she swings,
And though baby sleeps, he hears what she sings.
From the high rooftops down to the sea,
No one's as dear as baby to me.
Wee little fingers, eyes wide and bright -
Now sound asleep until morning light.
https://lyricstranslate.com/en/leanabh-%C3%A0igh-child-joy.html
Huna blentyn ar fy mynwes,
Clyd a chynnes ydyw hon;
Breichiau mam sy'n dynn amdanat,
Cariad mam sy dan fy mron;
Ni chaiff dim amharu'th gyntun,
Ni wna undyn â thi gam;
Huna'n dawel, annwyl blentyn,
Huna'n fwyn ar fron dy fam.
Huna'n dawel, heno, huna,
Huna'n fwyn, y tlws ei lun;
Pam yr wyt yn awr yn gwenu,
Gwenu'n dirion yn dy hun?
Ai angylion fry sy'n gwenu,
Arnat ti yn gwenu'n llon,
Tithau'n gwenu'n ôl dan huno,
Huno'n dawel ar fy mron?
Paid ag ofni, dim ond deilen
Gura, gura ar y ddôr;
Paid ag ofni, ton fach unig
Sua, sua ar lan y môr;
Huna blentyn, nid oes yma
Ddim i roddi iti fraw;
Gwena'n dawel yn fy mynwes.
Ar yr engyl gwynion draw.
Old King Cole was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he;
He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.
Every fiddler he had a fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he;
Oh there's none so rare, as can compare,
With King Cole and his fiddlers three.
My sweet little darling, my comfort and joy,
Sing lullaby lulla.
In beauty surpassing the Princes of Troy.
Sing lullaby lulla.
Now hush, child, now sleep, child, thy mother's sweet boy.
Sing lullaby lulla.
The gods bless and keep thee from cruel annoy.
Sing lullaby lulla.
Sweet baby, lulla lulla, sweet baby, lullaby, lulla.