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Is Cianail an Rathad 's Mi Gabhail a' Chuain

Le Alasdair Mac Iain Bhain.
(From Transactions of the Gaelic Society of Inverness, Volume 10, 1881-83). Translation by Iain MacLeod, courtesy of Murdo Grant of Fortrose and Lewiston.

Tobair an Dualchais recording here, sung by Willie Matheson in 1961 who got the song from Peter Grant of Glen Urquhart

Is Cianail an Rathad 'S Mi Gabhail A' Chuain	Dreary is The Ocean Road I Am Taking
Is cianail an rathad 'S mi gabhail a' chuain, Sinn a' triall ri droch shide Na h-Innseachan shuas - Na croinn oirnn a' lubadh, 'S na siuil ga 'n toirt uainn, An long air a lethtaobh A' gleachd ris a' stuagh.	Dreary is the ocean road I am taking, As we sail in bad weather Northwards past the Indies-- With the masts bending, the sails being ripped away, the ship leaning over on her side and struggling against the billows
Diciadain a dh'fhalbh sinn, 'S bu ghailbheach an uair, Cha deach sinn moran mhiltean 'Nuair shin e ruinn cruaidh; 'S gu'n chriochnaich pairt dhinn 'S an aite 'n robh 'n uair, 'S tha fios aig Rock Saile Mar thearuinn sinn uaith!	On the Wednesday that we left, a stormy time it was, for we hadn't gone many miles when the weather became very stormy; and some of us died in the place where we were, and only The Rock of The Sea knows how the ship managed to avoid it!
Seachd seachdainean dubhlach, De dh-uine gle chruaidh, Bha sinn ann an cùram, Gun duil a bhi buan - Sior phumpaigeadh buirn aisd An cunntas nan uair, 'S cha bu luaith dol an diosg' dhi Na lionadh i suas.	For seven weeks of tempestuous weather, we had a very hard time, we were in an anxious state, not expecting to survive - Continually pumping water out of her hour after hour, and no sooner had we pumped her dry than she filled up again.
Tha onfhadh na tide Toirt ciosnachaidh mhoir As a' mharsanta dhileas Nach diobair a seol; Tha tuilleadh 's a giulan Ag usbairt ri 'sroin, 'S i 'n cunnart a muchadh Ma dhuineas an ceo.	The raging of the sea requires a stupendous effort from the faithful seaman who will not abandon her sails; there are heavier seas than she can take raging against her bows, and she will be in danger of foundering if the mist closes in on her
Tha luchd air a h-uchd A' toirt muirt air a bord, Neart soirbheis o'n iar A' toirt sniomh air a seol - Muir dhu-ghorm eitidh Ag eirigh ri 'sroin, 'S le buadhadh na sèide 'S tric eiginn tighinn oirnn.	The cargo aboard her is putting her in danger, the strength of the wind from the west is twisting her sails - A darkly blue tempestuous sea is rising against her bows, and the menacing power of the gale is frequently putting us in extreme peril.
Tha gaoth 'us clach-mheallain A' leantuinn ar cùrs, Smuid mhor oirnn ag eirigh Do na speuran gu dlùth; 'S e quadrant na greine Tha toir leirsinn do 'n t-suil, Co 'n rathad a theid sinn Le lèideadh na stiuir.	Wind and hail are following us on our course, huge amounts of spray are rising against us up to the heavens; visibility is only a quarter of what it should be, to show in what direction we should steer.
Stiuir thairis i, Adam, Ma tha e do run; Cum direach do chùrs Ann an aird na cairt-iuil,* 'S ma ruigeas sinn sabhailt An t-ait tha ar duil, Gu 'n ol sinn deoch-slainte Na dh' fhag sinn air chul.	Please carry on at helm, Adam, if you are willing to do so; keep a straight course according to the compass, and if we arrive safely at the place which we hope to reach, we shall drink to the heallth of those we left behind.
* Or, Cum direach an talan air bharr na cairt-iuil.
B'i sin an deoch-shlainte Nach aicheadh'nn uair Ged dh' fheumainn a paigheadh A bharr air a luach - Do ruma mhath laidir, G'a sharr chur mu 'n cuairt, Mar chuimhn' air na cairdean Tha thamh 'san Taobh-Tuath.	That is a toast that I would never refuse to honour although I should have to pay more than its value in liquor - a toast in good strong rum, being continually circulated, to remember our friends who live in the North.
Fhir a theid a dh-Alba Tha m' earbsa ro mhor Gu'n taghail thu 'n rathad Thoir naigheachd na s' beo - Thoir soraidh le durachd Do dhuthaich lain Oig* O dh' fhagas tu Rusgaich Gu Lundaidh nam bo.	It is my great hope that you, who are going to Scotland will visit my friends to give the news of those of us who are alive - Give my greeting with good wishes to lain Og's* country, which stretches from Ruskich to Lundie of the cattle.
* Iain Og. - Colonel John Grant of Glenmoriston, who succeeded to the estate in December 1773, and died in September 1801.	*Colonel John Grant of Glenmoriston (died September, 1801)