English (machine translation)
The island gay beautiful scenic situated on hard rock,
South a bridge among the mountains mairtear without concern,
are the numbers that the thrush engaged upset when they ola loin guard,
When I moved the road Leitir Mor to tell from the top of the harbor.
The path is magic across tidal drying time beach,
the rabbit wise pursuit shelter is not he walks into it,
On the absence of tobacco goes the people out of the way confidential,
plowing the roadway from Leitir Mor to tell top port .
Was nice the boatman was Joe Walter, She was nice to craft the initiative,
Maidhcil most Micil Martin in gCrompán day north,
The larger boost the gale would not she the yacht sank,
Or that she launched the road from Leitir Mor to tell top of the harbor.
It is a beautiful great poets playfully surround the island,
A chumfadh piece of sweet songs to lift the body from death,
was nice to change that would last ceaileacó it permanently,
Did not He launched the Yank in the roadway from Leitir Mor to tell top the harbor.
The end is my thoughts written down and I here with ink,
Goodbye, to Murchadh ghnaíúil, spent plenty of Chlarke in gclúid,
is sorrow and heartache me most are the tears of my cheeks,
But I will continue the road from Lettermore to tell the top of the harbor.
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