And the sea is jumping as the fish are being switched under the cliff,
and the waves in a row are drifting onto the beach,
is the pig sand thesis béiciúch is at fuagairt from night to day,
Oh, wait I, a Creature, you are me if you come in time.

The morning of that day, from, listened to mass short time,
Oh, the news went and gathered hundreds on the beach,
was ourselves We're a devil there is nothing else we could say,
was the men there by volatile corrcheann is wearing by women.

And woe would say that Irish home is the Beach White,
and the fish are the same from outsiders trying to come there,
and you would not but nod on the mbraeim is east by one,
and that incredible story is she might jump into your hand.

And not exaggerate or lie to say there were horse mackerel there,
as they were 'bridge previous sheanbhóithrín Dhubháin,
From, tóigeadh the hundreds there around the house Pheaidí John,
and they are still self in the drain at the house Colm Siobhan.

And was going down at Keanes my own as I wanted to be in time,
Oh, turns man mountain me most was his eyes out over his head,
was a stranger to the creature is selling meals he was missing there,
He home of the festival is the mountain that day it shall not rare.

Long life of every creature denied ate horse mackerel,
and my sharp lean the person had not heard in time
But now drag out ashes and róstaigí one,
will taste on your mouth and do not say you did not eat your fill .

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