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Tá bliain is níos mó agam ag éisteacht Le cogar doilíosach mo mheoin Ó casadh liom gra gheal mo chléibhe Tráthnóna beag déanach sa bhFómhar Bhí an bhó bhainne cumhra ag géimeach Is na héanlaith go meidhreach le cheol Is ar bhruach an t-srutháin ar leath-thaobh díom Bhí an cailín deas crúite na mbó
Tá a súile mar lonradh na gréine Ag scaipeadh tré spéarthaibh an cheoidh Is is deirge a grua ná na caortha Ar lasadh i measc craobha na gcnoc Tá a béilín níos milse ná sméartha Is is gile ná leamhnacht a snó Níl óigbhean níos deise sa tsaol so Ná an cailín deas crúite na mbó
Dá bhfaighinnse árd Tiarnas na hÉireann Éadacha, síoda is sróil Dá bhfaighinnse an bhanríon is airde Dá bhfuil ar an dtalamh so beo Dá bhfaighinnse céad loingis mar spré dhom Píoláidi, caisleáin is ór Bfhearr liom bheith fán ar na sléibhte Lem chailín deas crúite na mbó
Muna bhfuil sé i ndán dom bheith in éineacht Leis an spéirbhean ró-dhílis úd fós Is daoirseach, dubhrónach mo shaolsa Gan suaimhneas, gan éifeacht, gan treo Ní bheidh sólás im chroí ná im intinn Ná suaimhneas orm oíche ná ló Nó bhfeice mé taobh liom óna muintir Mo cailín deas crúite na mbó
I am listening for more than a year To my mind's melancholy whispering Since I met the bright love of my heart One evening late in autumn The cow of the fragrant-smelling milk was lowing And the birds were merry with song And on the bank of the stream by my side Was the pretty milkmaid
Her eyes are like the shining sun Dispersing the mist through the skies And her cheeks are redder than the rowan trees Alight among the branches on the hill Her mouth is sweeter than blackberries And her complexion brighter than new milk There is not a lovelier young woman in the world Than the pretty milkmaid
If I were to receive High Lordship of Ireland Clothing of silk or satin Or the highest queen that there is Alive in this world If I received a hundred ships as a dowry Palaces, castles and gold I would prefer to be wandering the hillsides With my pretty milkmaid
If it is not in store for me to be together With that too-faithful beauty as yet It is limited and sad my life will be Without peace, without merit, without direction There will be no consolation in my heart or my mind I will have no rest by night or day Til I see by my side away from her people My pretty milkmaid
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