Athionchollú : Standing on the Hill

The Wind that shakes the Barley


Text und Musik : Irisch überliefert

I sat there in the valley green I sat me with my true love.
My sad heart strove the two between, the old love and the new love.
The old for her, the young that makes me think on Ireland dearly
while soft the wind blew down the glen and shook the golden barley.

´Twas hard the woeful words in frame to brake the ties that bound us,
But harder still to bear the shame of foreign chains around us.
And so I said, "The mountain glen I´ll seek at morning early
And join the bold united men, while soft winds shake the barley."

While sad I kissed away her tears, my fond arm round her flinging,
A foeman´s shot burst on our ears from out the wildwood ringing.
A bullet pierced my true love´s side in life´s young spring so early,
And on my breast in blood she died while soft winds shook the barley.

But blood for blood without remorse I´ve taken at Oulart Hollow,
And laid my true love´s clay cold corpse where I full soon must follow,
As round her grave I wander rear, noon, night and morning early,
With breaking heart when´er I hear the wind that shakes the barley.>