English (machine translation)
Oh, luím on my bed and not any stunning chodlaím that morning,
But recalling my little dog I had gone in scarthanaidh.
Och, och, my little dog, och, och, my little dog!
There hoarseness in my throat calling my little dog.
A small puppy 'was hazy and' was prudent, wise, kind,
You have left me with no dawn and you had returned me ever since.
Many summer morning, oh, you sent me in the calf,
'Un Red Mountain is the cuckoo bird playing music in the valleys us.
Swan Lake is the Rock, Lake trout are the chariots,
men are engaged "in mbádaí sea is bright addresses them.
From another cub promised me, on my take from mhairgnigh act,
not to ever come to any other house, since I lost my little dog.
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