Tha Mo Bhreacan-sa Fo’n Dìle (My Plaid is under the rain)

[read english version]

This is a popular milling song with many variants
around Nova Scotia. A young man complains of the
hardships of being in the army and sailing far from
home. I was happy to record this in the hall at Wreck
Cove on the North Shore where I always enjoy singing,
and of course it’s great to get together with friends to
record and have a laugh!

“…My plaid is wet and musty, I cannot
wear it tomorrow
My plaid is wet and dirty, I cannot take the time to
wring it out….”

Tha mo bhreacan-sa fo’n dìle,
Cha’n fhaod mi innse mar tha e;
Tha mo bhreacan-sa fo’n dìle,

Tha mo bhreacan gu fluich, fuarraidh,
Cha ghabh e cur suas am maireach.

Tha mo bhreacan gu fliuch salach,
Cha’n fhaod mi fuireach ri fhàsgadh.

Tha mo bhreacan air a mhilleadh,
Aig na gillean air a bhàta.

Bidh mi ‘maireach ‘dol a sheòladh,
Cha’n ann air m’eòlais a tha mi.

Thoir mo shoraidh do Ghleann-Lochaidh,
Far an robh mi òg gu’m àrach.

Sòraidh éile do Ghleann Urchaidh,
Nan tuilmeanan bòidheach, fàsaich.

Far am faighte gruagach bhòidheach,
‘G iomain bhò gu bealach àiridh.

‘Tha na nighneagan ‘an gruaim rium,
Bho’n a fhuair mi’n còta-sgàrlaid.

Fhuair mi paidhir bhrògan ùra,
Boineid dhubh-ghorm ‘us coc àrd innt’.

My plaid is black from the rain,
I cannot tell how it is;
My plaid is black from the rain,

My plaid is wet and musty,
I cannot wear it tomorrow

My plaid is wet and dirty,
I cannot take the time to wring it out.

My plaid has been ruined,
By the lads in the boat.

Tomorrow, I will be sailing,
It’s not on known territory I’ll be

Take my farewell to Glen Lochy,
Where I was raised in my youth.

Where you would find lovely maidens,
Driving cattle to the sheiling passes.

The girls are annoyed with me,
Since I got the red coat.

I got a pair of new shoes,
A blue-black bonnet with a tall cockade in it.