miniaturas celtas -irish music de radio (1) 2c6e68

2018

[D]If I were King of Ire[A]land And had all things at[Bm] my will I'd roam for recreation More comfort to find[A] still But the com[Bm]fort I would seek the most So that you may under[A]stand Would be to win[Bm] the heart of MarA]tha The Flower of Sweet Stra[Bm]bane,,,[D] Her cheeks they are as rubies Her hair a dove-soft brown And o'er her milk white shoulders It carelessly hangs down She is the fairest creature And the pride of all her clan And my heart is captivated By the flower of Sweet StrabaneBut since I cannot gain her love No joy there is for me And I must seek to hide my tears In the lands across the sea Unless she cares to follow me I swear by my right hand McKenna's face you'll ne'er more see My Flower of Sweet Strabane. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I close my eyes and picture the emerald of the sea From the fishing boats at Dingle to the shores of Dunardee I miss the river Shannon and the folks at Skibbereen The moorlands and the midlands with their forty shades of green But most of all I miss a girl in Tipperary town And most of all I miss her lips as soft as eiderdown Again I want to see and do the things we've done and seen Where the breeze is sweet as Shalimar and there's forty shades of green (Green green green forty shades of green) I wish that I could spend an hour at Dublin's churching surf I'd love to watch the farmers drain the bogs and spade the turf To see again the thatching of the straw the women glean I'd walk from Cork to Larne to see the forty shades of green But most of all I miss a girl... "Forty Shades of Green" has also been recorded by Daniel O'Donnell, Foster and Allen, and Ruby Murray, among others. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One warm summer night He rode into sight On a wild mare that was so perfectly white I'd dreamed he'd return and I was right Wishes can come true when you wish with all your might... One look in his eyes I had realized His life was so simple he had no disguise He lived day to day, no promise he would stay But in these few words he stole my heart awayHe said: "My life's not to lead Through power or greed I am but a poor man when I'm cut I bleed A more humble man you never will meet And here is my heart for only you to keep..." In the shade of the willow tree My poor peasant promised to meNo scholarly thoughts, he couldn't pay high costs And sometimes it feels like he's totally lost But he said this true and he said it loud "I promise you my heart with this solemn vow..." One warm summer night He rode out of sight On a wild mare that was so perfectly white I'd dreamed he'd return and I was right Wishes can come true when you wish with all your might..In the shade of the willow tree My poor peasant promised to me. In the shade of the willow tree My poor peasant promised to me. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I've been here for a million years Through the joy, through the tears But when I am gone this will go on And the circle starts again I've watched the mountains rise from dust Saw the gold return to rust I had cried when the oceans died And the circle starts againO-o-oh, o-o-oh A-a-ah, a-a-ah O-o-oh, o-o-oh A-a-ah, a-a-ah I was here when the world began to turn Kissed the sun as it started to burn The whispering at the reckoning Said: "The circle starts again"The moon was rising from above I caught her eye and thought it was love But she turned her back, the sky went black And the circle starts again O-o-oh, o-o-oh A-a-ah, a-a-ah O-o-oh, o-o-oh A-a-ah, a-a-ah I danced through castles made of stone Walked the desert sands alone In the midnight hour you feet the power And the circle starts again Now the question falls to you, my friend No beginning has no end Will we ever learn, will the world still turn Will the circle starts again? O-o-oh, o-o-oh A-a-ah, a-a-ah O-o-oh, o-o-ohWritten by: Ritchie Blackmore/Candice Night ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A-a-ah, a-a-ah...

The Dublin City Ramblers began life in the mid 60s as The Jolly Tinkers, but due to the existence of ballad groups with same name, they decided to change their name to The Quare Fellas. At this time the line up consisted of Patsy Watchorn, brothers Sean and Matt McGuinness and Pat Cummins. While the group recorded the two albums At Home and A Fond Tale on the CBS label, they considered themselves part-time musicians. Pat Cummins left the band between the first and second CBS album and was replaced by Brendan Leeson.[1]

The Dublin City Ramblers is an Irish folk band, originately formed by the name of The Quare Fellas in 1970. The band has had a long line of and Sean McGuinness is the only current of the original line-up, that also included Patsy Watchorn later member of The Dubliners.

As I went out walking one fine summer morning, The birds in the bushes did whistle and sing The lads and the lasses in couples were courtin' Going back to the factory their work to begin He spied one among them, she was fairer then many, Her cheeks like the red rose that blooms in the spring, Her hair like the lily that grows in yon' valley She was only a hard-working factory girlHe said soft beside her, more closely to view her She said "My young man, don't stare me so, I gold in my pocket, and silver as well, No more will I answer that factory call..." .

The Foggy Dew The Chieftains I was down the glen one Easter morn To a city fair rode I There armed lines of marching men In squadrons ed me by No pipe did hum, no battle drum did sound it's loud tattoo But the Angelus Bells o'er the Liffey swells rang out in the foggy dew Right proudly high in Dublin town Hung they out a flag of war 'Twas better to die 'neath that Irish sky Than at Sulva or Sud el Bar And from the plains of Royal Meath Strong men came hurrying through While Brittania's huns with their long range guns Sailed in through the foggy dew Their bravest fell and the requiem bell Rang mournfully and clear For those who died that Eastertide in theSpringing of the year While the world did gaze with deep amaze At those fearless men but few Who bore the fight that freedom's light Might shine through the foggy dew And back through the glen I rode again And my heart with grief was sore For I parted then with valiant men Whom I never shall see n'more But to and fro in my dreams I go And I kneel and pray for you For slavery fled oh glorious dead When you fell in the foggy dew--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Compositor: J BAIRD, TRADITIONAL, PD TRADITIONAL © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc. Solo para uso no comercial. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Chieftains es una banda irlandesa de música tradicional, fundada en Dublín en 1963, año de la grabación de su primer LP titulado simplemente The Chieftains. Su composición inicial fue Paddy Moloney, Martin Fay, Seán Potts y David Fallon. Todos ellos eran músicos procedentes de Ceoltóirí Cualann, la orquesta de Seán O'Ríada y de la escena de pubs de Dublín. El éxito de la formación exclusivamente instrumental fue una sorpresa, ya que la emergente escena folk irlandesa se nutría principalmente de los aportes que los cantantes de grupos como The Dubliners o The Clancy Brothers realizaban.

Historia Los celtas poblamos Galicia en el año 700 a.C. aproximadamente. Esto significa que la poblamos bastante tarde, en el apogeo de su cultura. Los celtas gallegos fuimos conquistados por los romanos en el 60 a.C. La gente vivíamos sobre todo de la agricultura. Se han encontrado fortificaciones de los celtas, lo que muestra que éramos un pueblo bastante desarrollado. Estas fortificaciones en Galicia se llaman "castros". -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ave Maria Celtic Woman Ave Maria, Gratia plena, Dominus tecum. Benedicta tu in mulieribus, Et benedictus, fructus ventris tui, Jesus. Sancta Maria, sancta Maria, Maria, Ora pro nobis, nobis peccatoribus, Nunc et in hora, in hora mortis nostrae. Amen. Amen.

May it be an evening star Shines down upon you May it be when darkness falls Your heart will be true You walk a lonely road Oh! How far you are from home Mornie utúlie (darknesss has come) Believe and you will find your way Mornie alantie (darknesss has fallen) A promise lives within you now May it be the shadows call Will fly away May it be your journey on To light the day When the night is overcome You may rise to find the sun Mornie utúlie (darknesss has come) Believe and you will find your way Mornie alantie (darknesss has fallen) A promise lives within you now A promise lives within you, now. Read more: Enya - May It Be Lyrics | MetroLyrics

The Rose of Tralee Traditional The pale moon was rising above the green mountain, The sun was declining beneath the blue sea; When I strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain, That stands in the beautiful Vale of Tralee. She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer, Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me; Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning, That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee. The cool shades of evening their mantle were spreading And Mary all smiling sat listening to me; The moon through the valley her pale rays were shining When I won the heart of the Rose of Tralee. She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer, Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me; Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning, That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee. On the far fields of India, mid war's bloody thunder, Her voice was a solace and comfort to me, But the cold hand of death has now torn us asunder I'm lonely tonight for my Rose of Tralee. She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer, Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me; Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning, That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Una característica que facilitó nuestro dominio pero que, a la vez, permitió la continuidad de nuestra cultura, fue la ausencia de un verdadero estado celta a causa de la primacía de las estructuras tribales y familiares. Esta división nos hacía militarmente débiles ante invasores bien organizados, como por ejemplo los romanos (a los que sin embargo les llevó años conquistarnos ), paradójicamente sucedía lo contrario con las costumbres y los valores, protegidos de influencias externas por los fuertes vínculos parentales, en donde el clan estaba por encima de toda organización estatal, y unificaba y cobijaba a sus . Slievenamon (Irish: Sliabh na mBan, [??l?i?w n??? ?m?an?], "mountain of the women") is a mountain which is situated northwest of Carrick on Suir and northeast of Clonmel in County Tipperary, Ireland. It stands at 721 m (2,365 ft). Sitting at the western end of a range of low hills, Slievenamon is a striking conical mass, offering a dramatic view from the top over the counties of Tipperary, Kilkenny and Waterford. Much of its lower slopes is wooded. A low hill attached to Slievenamon, known as Carrigmaclea (a.k.a. Carraigmoclear), was the site of a battle during the Irish Rebellion of 1798. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

La Tène es la cultura celta de la segunda Edad del Hierro estructurada en tres o cuatro períodos. Se desarrolló entre la Hallstatt y la conquista romana (450 a 50 a.C.). Aquellos que compartimos esta civilización nos destacamos por la elaboración de elementos como grandes espadas, escudos alargados, grandes hebillas, fíbulas, construíamos nuestras fortificaciones en las cumbres y acuñamos nuestra propia moneda.

Desarrollamos las denominadas culturas de Hallstatt y La Tène. La primera se manifestó en el primer período de la Edad del Hierro. Tomó el nombre de una localidad de la Alta Austria. Se originó a partir de la Edad del Bronce, en donde el hierro sustituyo al otro material en la fabricación de elementos como espadas, puntas de lanzas, hachas, agujas, recipientes, cuchillos y puñales.

Molly Malone (conocida también como Cockles and Mussels (Berberechos y mejillones) o por In Dublin's Fair City (En la Noble Ciudad de Dublín) y (en irlandés Mol Ní Mhaoileoin) es una canción popular de Irlanda que se ha convertido en el himno no oficial de Dublín. También ha obtenido la condición de himno irlandés. Fue compuesta alrededor de 1880 por James Yorkston y se ha convertido en una verdadera leyenda urbana.1? De manera afectiva y coloquial, suelen llamarla como The tart with the cart (La golfa con el carro). La canción cuenta la historia de una hermosa pescadera llamada Molly Malone que murió de una fiebre en plena calle. La muchacha iba por las tortuosas calles de la zona portuaria de Dublín, empujando un carro y pregonando: "¡¡ berberechos y Mejillones vivitos!!". Sin embargo no existen pruebas de que tal personaje existiese en el siglo XVII ni en ningún otro momento. Típicamente se la representa como una tendera de día y una prostituta de noche.2? Hasta el 18 de julio de 2014, su estatua se encontraba al comienzo de la calle Grafton, en Dublín, pero debido a las obras de la nueva línea del tranvía (LUAS), ha sido trasladada a la calle Suffolk, enfrente de la Oficina de Información y Turismo (a menos de 100 metros de su anterior localización). Está ataviada con un vestido largo y lleva el carro donde vendía el marisco. In Dublin's fair city, Where the girls are so pretty, I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone, As she wheeled her wheel-barrow, Through streets broad and narrow, Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!" "Alive, alive, oh, Alive, alive, oh", Crying "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh". She was a fishmonger, But sure 'twas no wonder, For so were her father and mother before, And they each wheeled their barrow, Through streets broad and narrow, Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!"(chorus) She died of a fever, And no one could save her, And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone. Now her ghost wheels her barrow, Through streets broad and narrow, Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!"

Nuestro territorio se extendía, en su época de mayor expansión, desde el bajo Danubio hasta las Islas Británicas, desde España hasta el mar del norte. Los celtas guerreros eran conocidos por su caballerosidad, su orgullo en la lucha y su ánimo, pero también por su sentido por la música, la poesía y la filosofía.

Eran estos celtas guerreros los que conocemos por haber saqueado Roma y Delfos, y por haber conquistado grandes partes de Europa. Transmitimos nuestro idioma, costumbres y nuestra religión a los pueblos de la zona conquistada.