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’S an lá a ndeachas go Cill Dara, is ar fhág mé an Trá Bháin,Sé an comhrá a bhí sa mbaile go raibh saibhreas dhá dhéanamh ann, Ach dá mbeadh breith ar m’aiféala agam, céad faraor tá mé mall, Is gurb é an scéal atá le n-aithris agam atá le léamh ag feara Fáil.
Is nár hordaíodh insa gcampa mé, beidh cuimhne agam air go brách, Mar cóiríodh an tseanleaba dhom anuas ar na trí cláir, Bhí pilliúr fionnaidh capaill agus málaí lán le tuí, ’S ní iompródh ceannaí ragannaí an phluid a bhí os mo chionn.
’S ag a seacht a chlog ar maidin, bhí an bricfeasta faoi réir, Bhí beirt ag séideadh feadóige ann is bhí triúr ag réiteach tae, Ó, beirt ag gearradh feola agus triúr eile dá roinnt, ’S dheamhan ar mhór duit uair á cangailt sul má bheifeá in ann í a scaoileadh siar.
Ach mo dhiomú do na barraí agus mo mhí-ádh ar arán, Á dtiomáint anonn sna lagphortaigh is á dtiomáint anonn is anall, Is níor mhór dhuit scíth leath bealaigh le crampaí in do lámh, Is gurb éard a déarfadh an ganger man, ‘Cén fáth nach bhfuil sé lán?’
’S tá na laethantaí ag éirí fada anois is tá na hoícheantaí ag éirí gearr, ’S má sheasann an drochaimsir, is ní mhairfidh aon fhear ann, Ach dhá bhfágadh Dia an tsláinte agam nó go n-íoctar mé Déardaoin, Is dheamhan a bhfeicfear i gCill Dara mé an fhad is a mhairfeas mise aríst.
And the day did I go to Kildare, as I left the White Beach, It was the conversation in town that do exist were two rich, But if I catch m'aiféala, first I have sadly slow, Is that the story is recited to me to read grasses Available.
INSA stipulated camp is not I, I will remember it forever, Tseanleaba dressed me as the last of the three programs, Pilliúr fur was full of horses and straw bags, And rag merchant Annai borne the blanket was over my head.
And at seven o'clock in the morning, the breakfast was subject, Two whistle was blowing there were three at tea solution, Oh, two cutting meat and some other three, And swear to you big time before it would be cangailt able to release her back.
But my dhiomú the bars and my misfortune on bread, Being driven back in the cutaway is driven back and forth, The rest would have thee halfway with cramps in your hand, Most consist of the Ganger man would say, 'Why is not it a lot?'
And the laethantaí is getting long now hoícheantaí are getting short, And if the bad weather stand, is there any man will not survive, But two health God I allow enough or that I paid Thursday The devil appearing in Kildare I will last as long as yours again.
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