An Poc Ar Buile (The Mad Puck Goat)

An Poc Ar Buile
(The Mad Puck Goat)

[Irish-Gaelic]


[Phonetic]
[aonréad 1] Ag gabháil dom sior chun Droichead Uí Mhóradha Píce im dhóid ‘s mé ag dul i meithil Cé casfaí orm i gcuma ceoidh [gach duine] Ach pocán crón is é ar buile... [curfá] Ailliliú, puilliliú, ailliliú tá an puc ar buile! Ailliliú, puilliliú, ailliliú tá an puc ar buile! [aonréad 2] Do ritheamar trasna trí ruillógach, Is do ghluais an comhrac ar fud na muinge, Is treascairt do bhfuair sé sna turtóga [g.d.] Chuas ina ainneoin ina dhrom le fuinneamh... [curfá] [aonréad 3] Níor fhág sé carraig go raibh scót ann Ná gur rith le fórsa chun mé a mhilleadh, S’Ansan sea do cháith sé an léim ba mhó. [g.d.] Le fána mhór na Faille Bríce... [curfá] [aonréad 4] Bhí garda mór i mBaile an Róistigh Is bhailigh fórsa chun sinn a chlipeadh Do bhuail sé rop dá adhairc sa tóin ann [g.d.] S’dá bhríste nua do dhein sé giobail... [curfá] [aonréad 5] I nDaingean Uí Chúis le haghaidh an tráthnóna Bhí an sagart paróiste amach ‘nár gcoinnibh Is é dúirt gurbh é an diabhal ba Dhóigh leis [g.d.] A ghaibh an treo ar phocán buile... [curfá]	[solo 1] Egg-gwal dum sheer, kun drihead e-wora, Peeka im-oad s-meg-gull ee-meh-el, Kay cas-fwee or-rum ee gummar cee-o, [everyone] Och puck-awn crone iss ay air bwillah! [chorus] Al-li-lu, pwill-e-lu, al-li-lu tah on puck air bwillah. Al-li-lu, pwill-e-lu, al-li-lu tah on puck air bwillah. [solo 2] D-rih-hamar trasnah tree rill-og-och, Iss-doe-loo-awsh on coor-ock air-fud naw-mwinga, Iss-traskart d-voor shay snaw turtoe-ga [all] Xhoo-as in-an-yo-ann in-uh groam leh-fwin-noo [chorus] [solo 3] Near ahg shay carig go rev scoe awn Nah gur rih l-foresa kun may a-vwilla S-an-sha doe-ca shay a-laym bah voe [all] Leh fannah vor nah fallya bricka [chorus] [solo 4] Vee guardah more ee mallyan rowshtee Iss vallig fore-sa kun shin ah clippah D-vool shay rup dah eyerock sah-tone-awn [all] S-dah vrishteh new doh yayn shay gibbal... [chorus] [solo 5] I-neye-gen ee-coosh le-hayg en traw-nonah Vee-n sagart parow-shteh amock nar-ginev Shay dwirt gur-ov ayn jeval ba-go-lesh [all] A-gav on trow air fucan bwilla... [chorus]

Rough translation of the song...

1] As I set out with me pike in hand
To oldd Dromore to join a meithil (work gang),
Who should I meet but a tan puck goat
And he’s roaring mad.


Chorus] Aill-il-lu puill-il-iu - Aill-il-lu it’s the mad puck goat. Aill-il-lu puill-il-iu - Aill-il-lu it’s the mad puck goat.	2] He chased me over bush and weed And thru the bog the running proceeded, ‘Til he caught his horns in a clump of gorse And on his back I jumped unheeded.
3] There was ne’er a rock with no passage through Which he did not jump, and me like Eddie Macken. But when he leaped clean down Faill Breach I felt like a load of old wet sacking.	4] When the sergeant stood in Rochestown With a force of guards to apprehend us The goat he tore his trousers down And made rags of his breeches and new suspenders	5] In Dingle the following afternoon The parish priest came to call us to order. And he swore from the pulpit each Sunday in June T’was the devil on the back of his old grandfather.