Irische Musik / Irish music

Auf dieser Seite könnt ihr irische Musikstücke im Midi-Format laden und anhören. Die Stücke wurden von verschiedenen Personen erstellt und wir haben sie (wie auch die Bilder) im Internet gefunden. Sofern wir sie besitzen, werden die Stücke von ihrem Text begleitet.

On this side you can load and listen to some Irish songs. The songs were arranged by different persons and we found them (like the cliparts) in the Internet. As far as we have them, each song is accompanied with its lyrics.

The Black Velvet Band
Carolan's Draught
Carrickfergus
Cockles and Mussles
The Coolin
The Derry Hornpipe
Dowd's Favorite
The Foggy Dew
The Humors of Whisky
The Irish Rover
Londonderry Air (Danny Boy)
Love will you
Marino Waltz
The Mountains of Mourne
The Oak Tree
Planxty Irwin
The Rose of Tralee
She moved through the Fair
St. Anne's Reel
Whiskey in the Jar
The Wild Rover

The Black Velvet Band

(Traditional; Sequenced by Barry Taylor)

Her eyes they shone like diamonds, you'd think she was queen of the land
With her hair thrown over her shoulder, tied up with a black velvet band.

As I went down Broadway; Not intending to stay very long
I met with a frolicksome damsel, As she came tripping along.

A watch she pulled out of her pocket, And slipped it right into my hand
On the very first day that I met her, Bad luck to the black velvet band.

Before judge and jury next morning, Both of us had to appear
A gentleman claimed his jewellery, And the case against us was clear.

Seven long years transportation, Right down to "Van Dieman's Land"
Far away from my friends and companions, Betrayed by the black velvet band.

Carolan's Draught

(Unknown; Sequenced by Barry Taylor)

Carrickfergus

(Traditional; Sequenced by Barry Taylor)

I wish I was in Carrickfergus only for nights in Ballygran.
I would swim over the deepest ocean, the deepest ocean for my love to find.
But the sea is wide and I cannot swim over and neither have I wings to fly.
If I could find me a handsome boat man to ferry me over to my love and die.

My childhood days bring back sad reflections of happy times I spent so long ago
My boyhood friends and my own relations have all passed on now like melting snow
But I'll spend my days in endless roaming, soft is the grass, my bed is free
Ah! to be back now in Carrickfergus, on that long road down to the sea.

And in Kilkenny, it is reported, there are marble stones as black as ink
With gold and silver I would support her, but I'll sing no more now till I get a drink
I'm drunk today, and I'm seldom sober, a handsome rover from town to town
Ah! but I'm sick now, my days are numbered, so come all ye young man and lay me down.

Cockles and Mussles

(Traditional; Sequenced by Barry Taylor)

In Dublin's fair city where the girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone.
As she wheeled her wheel barrow thro' the streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussles alive alive O!
Alive alive O! Alive alive O! Crying cockles and mussles alive alive O!

She was a fishmonger; But sure 't was no wonder
For so were her father and mother before;
And they both wheeled their barrow through the strees broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussles alive alive O!
Alive alive O! Alive alive O! Crying cockles and mussles alive alive O!

She died of a fever; And no one could save her
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
But her ghost wheels her barrow thro' the streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussles alive alive O!
Alive alive O! Alive alive O! Crying cockles and mussles alive alive O!

The Coolin

(Traditional; Sequenced by Barry Taylor)

The Derry Hornpipe

(Unknown; Sequenced by Barry Taylor)

Dowd's Favorite

(Unknown; Sequenced by Harold Doolan)

The Foggy Dew

(Father P. O'Neill; Arranged by John Renf)

Dieses Lied wurde geschrieben für jene Männer, die im Osteraufstand 1916 in Dublin kämpften und starben.
This song was written for the men who fought and died in the Easter Rising of 1916 in Dublin.

As down the glen one Easter morn to a city fair rode I.
When Ireland's line of marching men in squadrons passed me by.
No pipe did hum, no battle drum did sound its dread tattoo
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey's swell rang out in the foggy dew.

Right proudly high over Dublin town they hung out a flag of war.
'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky than at Suvla or Sud el Bar.
And from the plains of Royal Meath strong men came hurrying through;
While Brittania's sons with their long-range guns sailed in from the foggy dew.

'Twas England bade our wild geese go that small nations might be free.
Their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves on the fringe of the grey North Sea.
But had they died by Pearse's side or fought with Gathal Bruga,
Their graves we'd keep where the Fenians sleep 'neath the hills of the foggy dew.

The bravest fell, and the solemn bell rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide in the springing of the year.
And the world did gaze in deep amaze at those fearless men and true
Who bore the fight that freedom's light might shine through the foggy dew.

The Humors of Whisky

(Traditional)

Let your quacks and newspapers be cuttin' their capers
And curing the Vapours, the Scratch and the Gout.
With their medical potions, their pills and their lotions,
Upholdin' their notions, they're mighty put out.
Who can tell the true physic of all things pathetic
And pitch to the Devil Cramp, Colic and Spleen?
Oh you'll find them I think if you take a big drink
With your mouth to the brink of a jug of Poteen.

Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh what botherations no bolt to the nation
Can bring consolation like Poteen me boys.

No liquid cosmetic to lovers athletic
Or ladies pathetic can bring such a bloom
As the sweet, by the powers to the garden of flowers
Never brought it own powers such a darlin' perfume.
And this liquid's so rare if you're willin' to share
To be takin' your hair when its grizzled and dead.
Oh the Sod has the merit to yield the true spirit
So strong it'll shake all the hairs from your head.

Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh since its perfection no doctor's direction
Can cleanse the complexion like Poteen me boys.

As a child in my cradle the nurse from her ladle
Was swillin' her mouth with a notion of "Pep"
When a drop from her bottle fell into me throttle.
I capered and scrambled right out of her lap.
On the floor I lay crawlin' and screamin' and bawlin'
Till Father and Mother soon came to the fore.
Conceived I lay dying, all wailing and crying
They found I was only a-cryin' for more.

Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord how I'd chuckle if babes in their truckle
Could only be suckled on Poteen me boys.

Through youthful digressions and times of depression
My childhood impression still clung to me mind.
In school and in college the basis of knowledge
I never could gulp 'till with whiskey combined.
Now as older I'm growin', time's ever bestowin'
On Erin's potation a flavour so fine
And how e're they may lecture on Jove and his nectar
Itself is the only true liquid divine.

Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord it's the right thing for courtin' and fightin'
There's naught so exciting as Poteen me boys.

Come guess me this riddle what beats pipes and fiddle
What's hotter than mustard and wilder than cream?
What best wets your whistle, what's clearer than crystal
Smoother than honey and stronger than steam?
What'll make the dumb talk, what'll make the lame walk --
The elixir of life and philosopher's stone?
And what helped Mr. Brunell to dig the Thames tunnel
Wasn't it Poteen me boys from old Innishowen.

Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord knows I wonder if lightning and thunder
Was made from the plunder of Poteen me boys!

The Irish Rover

(Traditional)

In the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and six we set sail from the fair Cobh of Cork.
We were bound far away with a cargo of bricks for the fine city hall of New York.
In a very fine craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft and oh, how the wild winds drove her.
She had twenty-three masts and withstood several blasts and we called her the Irish Rover.

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee, there was Hogan from County Tyrone.
And a chap called McGurk who was scared stiff of work and a chap from West Meath called Mallone.
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule and fighting Bill Casey from Dover.
There was Dooley from Claire who was strong as a bear and was skipper of the Irish Rover.

We had one million bales of old billy goats' tails, we had two million buckets of stones.
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides, we had four million packets of bones.
We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs, and seven million barrels of porter.
We had eight million bags of the best Sligo rags in the hold of the Irish Rover.

We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out and the ship lost her way in a fog.
And the whole of the crew was reduced unto two, 'twas myself and the captain's old dog.
Then the ship struck a rock with a terrible shock and then she heeled right over,
Turned nine times around, and the poor dog was drowned -- I'm the last of the Irish Rover.

Londonderry Air (Danny Boy)

(Fred Weatherly; Sequenced by Barry Taylor)

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
'tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.

But come you back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
And I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.

And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you will bend and tell me that you love me
Then I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.

Love will you

(Unknown; Arranged by John Renf)

Marino Waltz

(Traditional; Arranged by Basil Hendrick)

The Mountains of Mourne

(Lyrics:Percy French; Sequenced by Barry Taylor)

Oh Mary this London's a wonderful sight
With people here working by day and by night.
They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat
But there's gangs of them digging for gold in the streets.
At least when I asked them that's what I was told,
So I just took a hand at this digging for gold.
But for all that I found there I might as well be,
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

I believe that when writing a wish you expressed
As to how the fine ladies in London were dressed
Well, if you believe me, when asked to the ball
Faith they don't wear a top to their dresses at all
Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not in truth
Say if they were bound for a ball or a bath,
Don't be starting them fashions now, Mary Macree
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

I've seen England's king from the top of a bus
I've never known him, tho' he means to know us
And tho' by the Saxon we once were opressed
Still I cheered, God forgive me, I cheered with the rest
And now that he's visited Erin's green shore
We'll be much better friends than we've been heretofore
When we've got all we want we're as quiet as can be
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

You remember young Peter O'Loughlin of course
Well, now he is here at the hand of the Force.
I met him today, I was crossing the Strand
And he stopped the whole street with one wave of his hand
And there we stood talking of days that are gone
While the whole population of London looked on.
But for all these great powers he's wishful, like me
To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.

There's beautiful girls here - oh never you mind
More beautiful shapes nature never designed
And lovely complexions all roses and cream
But O'Loughlin remarked with regard to the same
That if at those roses you venture to sip
The colours might all come away on your lip.
So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waiting for me
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

The Oak Tree

(Unknown; Sequenced by Harold Doolan)

Planxty Irwin

(Unknown; Sequenced by Barry Taylor)

The Rose of Tralee

(Wm. P. Mulchinok; Sequenced by Barry Taylor)

Oh, the pale moon was rising above the green mountain,
The sun was declining beneath the blue sea.
When I strayed with my love o'er the pure crystal fountain
That stands in the beautiful Vale of Tralee.
She was lovely and fair as the rose in the summer.
Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me.
Oh! no 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning
That made me love Mary the Rose of Tralee.

The cool shades of evening their mantles were spreading
And Mary, all smiling, sat listening to me.
The moon thro' the valley her pale rays was shedding
When I won the heart of the Rose of Tralee.
Tho' lovely and fair as the rose of the summer
Yet, 'twas not her beauty alone that won me.
Oh! no 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning
That made me love Mary the Rose of Tralee.

She moved through the Fair

(Traditional; Sequenced by Barry Taylor)

My young love said to me 'My mother won't mind
And my father won't slight you for your lack of kind.'
And she stepped away from me and this she did say,
'It will not be long, love, 'till our wedding day.'

She went away from me, and moved through the fair,
And fondly I watched her, move here and move there,
Then she went homeward with one star awake -
As the swan in the evening moves over the lake.

The people were saying no two were e'er wed,
But one had a sorrow that never was said,
She went away from me with her goods and her gear,
And that was the last that I saw of my dear.

I dreamed it last night, my dear love came in,
So softly she came that her feet made no din,
She laid her hand on me, and this she did say:
'It will not be long, love, 'till our wedding day.'

St. Anne's Reel

(Unknown; Sequenced by Barry Taylor)

Whiskey in the Jar

(Traditional; Sequenced by Barry Taylor)

As I was going over the far famed Kerry Mountains
I met with Captain Farrell and his money he was counting.
I first produced my pistol and then produced my rapier,
Saying 'Stand and deliver for you are my bold deceiver'

With your whack fol the diddle day, whack fol the diddle oh
Whack fol the diddle oh there's whiskey in the jar.

I counted out my money and it gave a pretty penny
I put it in my pocket and I gave it to my Jenny
She sighed and she swore that she never would deceive me
But the devil take the women for they never can be easy.

I went into my chamber for to take a slumber
I dreamed of golden jewels and sure it was no wonder
For Jenny took my charges and filled them up with water
And sent for Captain Farrell to be ready for the slaughter.

'Twas early in the morning before I rose to travel
The guards were all around me and likewise Captain Farrell
I then produced my pistol for she stole away my rapier
But I couldn't shoot the water so a prisoner I was taken.

If anyone can aid me it's my brother in the army
I think that he is stationed in Cork or in Killarney.
And if he'd come to join me, we'd go roving in Kilkenny
I swear he'd treat me fairer than me darling sporting Jenny.

The Wild Rover

(Traditional)

I've been a wild rover for many a year
And I spent all my money on whiskey and beer,
And now I'm returning with gold in great store
And I never will play the wild rover no more.

And it's no, nay, never, no nay never no more,
Will I play the wild rover no never no more.

I went to an ale-house I used to frequent
And I told the landlady my money was spent.
I asked her for credit, she answered me "nay
Such a custom as yours I could have any day."

I took from my pocket ten sovereigns bright
And the landlady's eyes opened wide with delight.
She said "I have whiskey and wines of the best
And the words that I spoke sure were only in jest."

I'll go home to my parents, confess what I've done
And I'll ask them to pardon their prodigal son.
And if they caress me as ofttimes before
Sure I never will play the wild rover no more.

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