An Buachaillín Múinte

The Well-mannered Boy
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Irish

English (machine translation)

Oh my well-mannered boy, my heart breaks
So I fell for you in the beginning of my life,
and would walk around Ireland and Croagh Patrick
And I would not love any man in the country.

Was pleasant to eyes and mouth laughing
and yellow gold color of the hair of your head,
His cheek was redder than a rose in the garden,
A thousand white love, that you broke my heart.

And I give my curse the English army
as involving me in my first love of my life,
and a fine day and night liachtaí sociable
A I love you spent on the Yellow Road.

Two dtagfadh it in life you I would be married
If you live survived only one year,
I would always think of your chest silky,
and my heart are two sides is not good for me there.

Not pity my scéalsa cry in your dhéidhse,
and my heart in my cheartlár two rupture,
is the end of my conversation with your lips said,
King of grace, not a shame.

Not pity your case could not be resolved,
and the heavy blanket céadach off your heart,
But the tears silt over your coffin,
First sorrows that you burned deep in a cell.

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