An Ordinary Love, Lifted into Song

Back in the 1980s, chasing U2’s spark led me to Clannad, whose music wove Ireland’s ancient roots into something fresh. Their duet with Bono, “In a Lifetime,” caught me in a spell, Moya Brennan’s voice like a breeze carrying secrets from another world. Without knowing a word of Irish Gaelic, I was enchanted, drawn into a story that felt timeless, like a tale told by firelight.

Then came “Coinleach Ghlas an Fhómhair” (KIN-lakh GLAHSS un OH-wir), a County Donegal, Ireland, tune that held me fast. Summers at my grandparents’ in Sabine Parish, Louisiana, had shown me hills and pastures, the scent of trees and earth. This song stirred those memories, but its Gaelic words, full of consonants and flowing vowels wove a spell that carried me to Ireland’s green fields and cliffs. It was like stepping into a dream, vivid yet just out of reach.

A Song of Ordinary Love, Elevated

“Coinleach Ghlas an Fhómhair” is an old song that tells of a young man in County Donegal, Ireland, watching a girl in autumn’s fields. Her rosy cheeks, quick step, and braided hair spark a longing, but life, marriage, distance, and circumstance keep them apart.

Clannad’s version captures that first flush, Moya Brennan’s voice soaring over their acoustic arrangement. When I read the English translation, I was struck by how ordinary the story was: a simple tale of unrequited love. Yet Clannad’s performance lifted it to something almost holy.

Here, have a listen to the song before we dig in:

Lyrics (Clannad’s Version, Translated)

On the green stubble-fields of autumn, I saw you, my sweetheart.
Nice were your feet in shoes and wonderful your nimble gait.
Your hair the color of roses and your ringlets tightly plaited.
Alas that we’re not married or on board ship sailing away.

The boys around here are complaining and getting fired up.
And the ones with the high-piled hair are making homes for my brown-haired girl.
If the King of Spain would go abroad with his assembled men,
I would trample pasture and wilderness and I would be with my brown-haired girl.

If only my brown-haired girl and I were buying cows at the fair.
Go and come first love until we go over to Gweebarra.
Even if the tops of the branches were parted and the swan were separated from the waves,
That would not separate us and those who go against us are foolish.

Clannad: Keepers of the Spell

Clannad began in Gweedore, Donegal, singing in their parents’ pub, Leo’s Tavern. Moya Brennan, her brothers Ciarán and Pól, and uncles Noel and Pádraig named themselves “Clann As Dobhar” (family from Dore), later Clannad (KLAH-nəd). A contest win earned them a record deal, and their 1973 debut blended folk with jazz. With 17 albums, a Grammy, a BAFTA, and millions of records sold, their music carries Donegal’s earthy heart. Moya once said, “Go to Donegal, and you’ll feel the earthiness,” a truth that echoes in their sound. I picked up “sláinte mhaith” (SLAWN-chuh vah, “good health”) as a toast, a nod to the spell Clannad cast.

Why It Holds Me

Hearing “Coinleach Ghlas an Fhómhair” was like falling under a charm. Moya’s voice, clear and haunting, pulled me into a world where time slowed, and the ordinary became extraordinary. It didn’t call up specific memories but transported me somewhere new, to Donegal’s fields, perhaps, or a place only music can reach. The enchantment was in the performance, the way Clannad took a plain story and made it soar, lifting the everyday to something timeless.

Faith’s like that sometimes: finding wonder in the small things, trusting there’s meaning in what seems ordinary. This song became a kind of touchstone, a reminder to listen for beauty in life’s quiet moments.

References

Historical context of song and sean-nós: In-Between.org
Clannad Official Website
Lyric translation: Celtic Lyrics Corner
Irish Music Daily. “Clannad—innovators with traditional Irish roots.”