Translation of the song lyrics Oh Mo Dhuthaich - Oh My Country - Capercaillie

Oh Mo Dhuthaich - Oh My Country (original)

O mo dhuthaich' stu th’air m’aire
Uibhist chumhraidh ur anan gallan,
Far a faighte na daoin' uaisle,
Far 'm bu dual do Mha 'ic Ailein.
Tir a' mhurain, tir an eorna
Tir 's am pailt a h-uile seorsa
Far am bi na gillean oga
Gabhail oran 's 'g ol an lionna
Thig iad ugainn, carach, seolta
Gus ar mealladh far ar n-eolais;
Molaidh iad dhuinn Manitoba,
Duthaich fhuar gun ghual, gun mhoine.
Cha leig mi leas a bhith 'ga innse,
Nuair a ruigear, 'sann a chithear,
Samhradh goirid foghar sitheil,
Geamhradh fada na droch-shide
Nam biodh agam fhin de storas
Da dheis aodaich, paidhir bhrogan
Agus m’fharadh bhith 'nam phoca
'Sann air Uibhist dheanainn seoladh.
Oh My Country
O my country are on my mind
Fresh, fragrant Uist of the saplings,
Where the noble men are found
Who gave their hereditary allegiance to «Mac ic Ailein».
Land of seabed, land of barley
Land of abundance of every kind
Where the young lads will be
Singing songs and drinking beer
They will come to us cunning and wily
In order to entice us from our homes
They will praise Manitoba to us
A cold country with no coal and no peat!
I don’t need to say
That when we reach it we’ll see it
A short summer and a peaceful autumn
A long winter of bad weather.
If I had riches
A change of clothes and a pair of shoes
And my prayer in my pocket
It is to Uist that I would be sailing.

Oh Mo Dhuthaich - Oh My Country (translation)

O my country, you are on my mind
Fresh fragrant Uist of the saplings,
Where the nobles are found,
Where Clanranald was wont to go.
Land of marram grass, land of barley
Land in abundance of all kinds
Where the young lads will be
Singing and drinking the beer
They come from us, cunning, cunning
To be deceived far from our knowledge;
They will praise us Manitoba,
Cold country without coal, without peat.
Needless to say,
When it is reached, it is seen,
Short summer peaceful autumn,
Long winter of bad weather
If I had my own store
Two right clothes, a pair of shoes
And my fare is a pocket
It was on Uist that I would sail.
Oh My Country
O my country are on my mind
Fresh, fragrant Uist of the saplings,
Where the noble men are found
Who gave their hereditary allegiance to «Mac ic Ailein».
Land of seabed, land of barley
Land of abundance of every kind
Where the young lads will be
Singing songs and drinking beer
They will come to us cunning and wily
In order to entice us from our homes
They will praise Manitoba to us
A cold country with no coal and no peat!
I don’t need to say
That when we reach it we’ll see it
A short summer and a peaceful autumn
A long winter of bad weather.
If I had riches
A change of clothes and a pair of shoes
And my prayer in my pocket
It is to Uist that I would be sailing.