Traditional Irish Folksong
Preab san Ól
Type of song - Drinking Song
Tempo - Lively (Go Beo)
Metre - 3 (3 beats in each bar)
Form - Each verse is A,A,B,A. When a song consists of one verse repeated over and over with different words, the form of the song is "STROPHIC"
Mood - Carefree, Happy.
Tempo - Lively (Go Beo)
Metre - 3 (3 beats in each bar)
Form - Each verse is A,A,B,A. When a song consists of one verse repeated over and over with different words, the form of the song is "STROPHIC"
Mood - Carefree, Happy.
Lyrics
Is iomaí / slí sin a bhíos ag /daoine ag cruinniú / píosaí is ag déanamh / stóir,
is a laghad a / smaoiníos ar ghiorra an / tsaoil seo go mbeidh siad / sínte faoi leac go fóill.
Más tiarna / tíre, diúc nó / rí thú,ní rachaidh / pingin leat (is tú ag dul) faoin / bhfód.
Mar sin is dá / bhrí sin níl beart níos / críonna ná bheith go / síorraí ag cur preab son / ól.
Why spend your leisure bereft of pleasure A massing treasure why scrape and save?
Why look so canny at ev'ry penny? You'll take no money within the grave
Landlords and gentry with all their plenty Must still go empty where e'er they're bound
So to my thinking we'd best be drinking Our glasses clinking and round and round
King Solomon's glory, so famed in story Was far outshone by the lillies guise
But hard winds harden both field and garden Pleading for pardon, the lily dies
Life's but a bauble of toil and trouble The feathered arrow, once shot ne'er found
So, lads and lasses, because life passes Come fill your glasses for another round
Is iomaí / slí sin a bhíos ag /daoine ag cruinniú / píosaí is ag déanamh / stóir,
is a laghad a / smaoiníos ar ghiorra an / tsaoil seo go mbeidh siad / sínte faoi leac go fóill.
Más tiarna / tíre, diúc nó / rí thú,ní rachaidh / pingin leat (is tú ag dul) faoin / bhfód.
Mar sin is dá / bhrí sin níl beart níos / críonna ná bheith go / síorraí ag cur preab son / ól.
Why spend your leisure bereft of pleasure A massing treasure why scrape and save?
Why look so canny at ev'ry penny? You'll take no money within the grave
Landlords and gentry with all their plenty Must still go empty where e'er they're bound
So to my thinking we'd best be drinking Our glasses clinking and round and round
King Solomon's glory, so famed in story Was far outshone by the lillies guise
But hard winds harden both field and garden Pleading for pardon, the lily dies
Life's but a bauble of toil and trouble The feathered arrow, once shot ne'er found
So, lads and lasses, because life passes Come fill your glasses for another round
Chosen Song
Anach Chuain