Uaigneas na Rinne

Loneliness of A
Home | Tags: Sean-Nós | Submitted by anlonGlas
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Irish

English (machine translation)

I'm sitting in my coracle at top of A,
is I idea of the old days,
I fished with my father is with my uncle,
Oh, God, it was not pleasant to be alive.

While the trammels that the lines in the water,
the smaoil and pollack is coming on board,
But now they are cleared by the seals
is not just about the sleamhcán the beach.

Oh, fine not to pull down Nestling island,
the most beautiful place in the world is magical,
With high cliff around are green,
are the birds in their hundreds on top of the waves.

Claicheadh ??is the ford is in guard,
the Shoemaker is the Clerk with age,
the best pirate Hole Prisons for the pollack,
is the beautiful love Stags north east.

But now the tears to my eyes,
I am at the idea of the people are gone from us,
our people are all over the realms scaipthí
What surprised but my sheanchroí be heavy.

I'm sitting in my coracle at top of A,
I thought to the old days,
I thought to my father most of my uncle,
is the fine neighbors spread like a fog.

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