ON RAGLAN ROAD ...ORIG. ARRANGEMENT
I fell in love with this music when I first heard it played by a fiddler.....I could not find cello music for it and I wanted that "fiddling" sound so I made this transcription for cello....I love its sad and melancholy feel...like pining for someone...it is a pleasure to play this music and its played from my heart....
"On Raglan Road" is a well-known Irish song from a poem written by Irish poet Patrick Kavanagh named after Raglan Road in Ballsbridge, Dublin. In the poem, the speaker recalls a love affair that he had with a young woman while walking on a "quiet street". Although the speaker knew that he would risk being hurt if he initiated a relationship, he did so anyway.
The poem was put to music when the poet met Luke Kelly of the well-known Irish band The Dubliners in a pub in Dublin called The Bailey. It was set to the music of the traditional song "The Dawning of the Day" (Fáinne Geal an Lae) and was published by Edward Walsh in 1847.
It is said that it was written about his girlfriend, Hilda....in a newspaper interview she said it would never work out due to the difference in ages...she was 22 and he was 40...and she chose another....I have included a photo of Hilda and a memorial photo of Patrick at the end:-)
ON RAGLAN ROAD...by Patrick Kavanagh
On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue;
I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way,
And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day.
On Grafton Street in November we tripped lightly along the ledge
Of the deep ravine where can be seen the worth of passion's pledge,
The Queen of Hearts still making tarts and I not making hay -
O I loved too much and by such and such is happiness thrown away.
I gave her gifts of the mind I gave her the secret sign that's known
To the artists who have known the true gods of sound and stone
And word and tint. I did not stint for I gave her poems to say.
With her own name there and her own dark hair like clouds over fields of May
On a quiet street where old ghosts meet I see her walking now
Away from me so hurriedly my reason must allow
That I had wooed not as I should a creature made of clay -
When the angel woos the clay he'd lose his wings at the dawn of day.
Thank you for listening to my music :-)....please check out the other areas of my site and stop back soon:-)