Lef mes a’n Mor is a "song" sheet music from Cornwall for the guitar and Vocals. This music was composed by Anthony Snell. The lyrics of this sheet music were written by Anthony Snell. This sheet music has been arranged by Seonaidh Morton.
Composer | Anthony Snell |
Author | Anthony Snell |
Arranger | Seonaidh Morton |
Typeset | Seonaidh Morton |
Origin | Europe > United Kingdom > England > Cornwall |
Kind | Song |
Instruments | Guitar, 2 voices |
Key signature | A minor, E minor |
Rythm | 4/4 |
Tempo | ♩=90 |
License | Copyright |
You can download this free sheet music for the guitar and Vocals below:
Format | Download | Weight |
---|---|---|
Lef_mes_a’n_Mor.pdf | 67.48 KiB | |
midi | Lef_mes_a’n_Mor.mid | 9.09 KiB |
txt | Lef_mes_a’n_Mor.txt | 1.87 KiB |
Lev mes an Mor - Guth s a' Mhuir - Voice from the Sea Pyskador yth edja Yn tewlder ow moes War drethow Por' Towan War golow an nos. Y klewas un spyrys Ow krya yn yeyn: "An eur yu devedhys, Ha nynj yu an den" An loer a wolowys An karrygy hen, "An eur yu devedhys, Ha nynj yu an den" Ha tergwyth yn awel An lev a dhassen "An eur yu devedhys, Ha nynj yu an den" Ynter an comol Ha gwartha an vron Tarosvan yn cugol A sevy hep son An gwynj a grehyllys Y won truan du: Y fyas war woles Yn newlen dhislyw Hag ena nynj edja Saw golow an loer, Hy dewyn ow kredna War donnow an mor. ==================================================== Bha iasgaire ann A' cumail a dhol san dorchadas Air traighean Puirt Towan Ri solas na h-oidhche Chuala e spiorad A' gairm gu searbh "Thinig an uair Ach chan eil an duine" Shoillsicheadh a' gheallach na seann chreagan "Thinig an uair Ach chan eil an duine" Agus tr turais sa ghaoth shid an guth "Thinig an uair Ach chan eil an duine" Eadar na sgothan Agus os cionn a' bhrghad Is taibhse le culladh A sheasadh gun fhuaim Chrith a' ghaoth A ghn truagh dubh Theich a-nuas Do che bhn Agus an sin cha robh Ach solas na geallaich ann A gath a' critheanach Air tonnan na mara. ============================================== There was a fisherman walking in the dark On Porth Towan beach by the light of the night. He heard a spirit crying out bitterly: "The hour is come, but not the man". The moon lit up the ancient rocks. "The hour is come, but not the man". And thrice on the breeze The voice echoed: "The hour is come, but not the man". Between the clouds and on top of the hill A ghost in a hood stood in silence. The wind ruffled its sad, black gown: It fled downwards into a colourless mist. And then there was nothing save the light of the moon, Its bean trembling on the waves of the sea.
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