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"Mo Ghile Mear" (translated "My Gallant Darling", "My Spirited Lad" and variants) is an Irish song.The modern form of the song was composed in the early 1970s by Dónal Ó Liatháin (1934–2008), using a traditional air collected in Cúil Aodha, County Cork, and lyrics selected from Irish-language poems by Seán "Clárach" Mac Domhnaill (1691–1754).
"Macushla" is the title of an Irish song that was copyrighted in 1910, with music by Dermot Macmurrough (Harold R. White) and lyrics by Josephine V. Rowe. . The title is a transliteration of the Irish mo chuisle, meaning "my pulse" as used in the phrase a chuisle mo chroí, which means "pulse of my heart", and thus mo chuisle has come to mean "darling" or "sweetheart".
English translation [10] Moj dilbere, kud’ se šećeš? Aj, što i mene ne povedeš? Povedi me u čaršiju, Aj, pa me prodaj bazardžiji Uzmi za me oku zlata Aj, pa pozlati dvoru vrata: My darling, where do you betake yourself? Oh, why don't you lead me there too? Lead me to the čaršija Oh, then sell me to the bazaar merchant. Take for me ...
and "Hush, my darling, don't fear, my darling...". [ 11 ] "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" was issued by RCA in that year, and it rocketed to number one on the Billboard Hot 100 . Weiss' "Abilene Music, Inc." was the publisher of this arrangement, and listed "Albert Stanton" (a pseudonym for "Al Brackman", the business partner of Pete Seeger 's music ...
Poetic translation Sleep my darling, on my bosom, Harm will never come to you; Mother's arms enfold you safely, Mother's heart is ever true. As you sleep there's naught to scare you, Naught to wake you from your rest; Close those eyelids, little angel, Sleep upon your mother's breast. Sleep, my darling, night is falling Rest in slumber sound ...
Pretty little heaven, for it's my turn. (Refrain) An arrow in the air Pretty little heaven, Cupid shot. If he threw it playing, Pretty little heaven, he injured me. (Refrain) From the Sierra Morena, Darling, come down A pair of lovely black eyes; Darling, they are sneaking past. Refrain: Woe, woe, woe, woe, Sing and don’t cry, Because singing ...
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I may tell all my bones: they look and stare upon me. They part my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture. But be not thou far from me, O L ORD: O my strength, haste thee to help me. Deliver my soul from the sword; my darling from the power of the dog. Save me from the lion's mouth: for thou hast heard me from the horns of the unicorns.