Eilean Beag Donn A’ Chuain waltz

Also known as Eilean Beag Donn A Chuain, Little Brown Island In The Ocean, Little Brown Island In The Sea.

There are 4 recordings of a tune by this name.

Eilean Beag Donn A’ Chuain has been added to 1 tune set.

Eilean Beag Donn A' Chuain has been added to 49 tunebooks.

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One setting

X: 1
T: Eilean Beag Donn A' Chuain
R: waltz
M: 3/4
L: 1/8
K: Edor
E4E2|G4A2|F4E2|D4F2|A2BAF2|E4D2|E6-|1E4D2:|2E6||
B4B2|B4B2|c4B2|c4B2|A3BA2|G3FE2|F6|d4c2|
B4B2|E4G2|F3ED2|D4F2|A2BAF2|E4D2|E6-|E4D2||

Eight comments

Eilean Beag Donn A’ Chuain

From Skyedance. I think it’s an air by Donald Morrison. The way Alasdair Fraser ornaments airs makes this be awesome.
By the way, it means "Little Brown Island In The Sea".

Missing slip jig

This is followed by a second tune, labeled on itunes only as "Slip Jig", and it is a slip jig. Yet to be documented here.

John

Dòmhnall Moireasdan

"I think it’s an air by Donald Morrison. "

It’s a well known song by Donald Macdonald Morrison (1859-1951). Donald was born in Bragar, Lewis, to parents from Great Bernera. He emigrated to Duluth, Minnesota, with his brother Murdo, in the latter part of the 19th century, where he was known as "The Bard of Lewis". Murdo returned to Lewis and became a postmaster. He was responsible for the erection of the whalebone arch at Lakefield House in Bragar.

I believe some of words to "Eilean beag donn a’ Chuain" are displayed on glass screens in the ferry terminal in Stornoway, in commemoration of the emigrant ships from Lewis.

"Eilean beag donn a’ Chuain" (Little Brown Island in the Ocean), refers to the Island of Lewis:

Do làmh, a charaid, gu Eilean a’ chuain,
‘S a h-eallach cho cruaidh is trom.
Tha ‘m bàs le cabhaig a’ sgathadh ‘s a’ buain
Gun duine nì suas a call.
Tha ‘n òigridh sgoinneil a sheòlas na caoil
An àite nan laoch a bh’ ann,
Gun bhonaid, gun bhròig, a’ siubhal nan raon
An Eilean an Fhraoich ud thall.

[Your help, my friend, to the Island of Lewis
Since its burden is so difficult to bear
Death is reaping its terrible toll
With no one to make up the loss
The upstanding youth who sail the straits
Instead of the warriors who once were there
Are without clothing or shoes, traversing the moors
In the distant Island of Heather]

(Sèist)
Hì rì o rì rì, togaidh sinn fonn
Air Eilean beag donn a’ chuain;
Eilean beag Leòdhais, dachaigh nan seòid
A chumas an còmhrag suas;
Eilean nan tonn a dh’àraich na suinn
‘S a chuidich an Fhràing gu buaidh,
Còmhla ri chèile togaidh sinn fonn
Air Eilean beag donn a’ Chuain.

[(Chorus)
Hi-ri-o-ri, we’ll sing a song
About the little brown Island in the ocean
Little Island of Lewis, home of the warriors
Who will keep up the struggle
Island of the waves, which reared the heros
And who helped the French to victory
All together we’ll sing a song
About the little brown Island in the ocean]

O ‘s làidir na bannan gam tharraing a-null
Gu Eilean beag donn MhicLeòid,
‘S gu stiùir mi gu h-ealamh gu cala mo long
Nuair ruigeas mi ceann mo lò.
‘S ma ghreimicheas m’ acair ri Carraig nan Àl
Bidh m’ anam tighinn sàbhailt’ beò,
Mo shiùil air am pasgadh am fasgadh Chill Sgàir
Lem athair ‘s mo mhàthair chòir.

[Oh strong are the ties that are pulling me across
To the little brown island of the MacLeods
And I shall quickly steer my ship to harbor
When I reach the end of my days
And if my anchor catches the Bird-Reef
My soul will come safely alive
My sails folded in the shelter of Cill-Sgair
With my dear father and mother]

Sèist

There are two other verses, (without translation) sung before the above:

Bha Ghearmailt ealamh ‘s i sealladh mun iar
‘S an domhain ma b’ fhior na dòrn;
A rùn air cogadh ‘s i togail a sàth
De chaistealan àlainn ceò;
Clach-stèidh am bunait air gainneamh na tràghad,
Am mullach gu h-àrd sna neòil
‘S earball-sàil na h-Iuthairn a h-àit’
Nuair thig am muir-làn na còir.

A Dhia, bi maille ri muinntir a’ bhròin,
‘S na fir a tha leòinte, tinn,
Bho ìnean guineach na h-iolair’ a bhòc
Air fuil agus feòil do chloinn;
Tha gaoth an fhir-mhillidh na itean, ‘s a chròg
A’ druideadh mu sgòrnan teann,
Tha ‘n leòmhann a’ fàsgadh Uilleam a Dhà
Is spiollaidh i chnàmhan lom.

Questionable photograph

I’m sorry but this conceptual image doesn’t resonate with me.
How could water (clouds) exist in a space without oxygen?

HOH duh?

You on cloud 9?