But, mother, you are deprived of meaning
If you die, to the mountain,
is not I alone suffer
Or me in the night,
Oh, your cottage is nice both for
its bright room with a facial
Ins where we will merrily
accompanied themselves with little rent to us.

And the neighbors each side
is right in Ireland,
is both mairfeá the century,
and soon you your life,
is that you m'fhearr there at all,
and that I will accompany you,
But so you I will not
order again the Great Gate.

And he who would see the mountain top
When the sun rise,
and there is blight in the sky
and there gangaid in the wind,
is the lawn badger side there
is a red fox of his tether,
is the hare hopping
With pleasure in the heather.

And there udder these were exploding
Coming home at géimnigh
is sweetly pretty music the birds
In the valleys is coming for the night,
is the man the woman together,
are loving each other,
is the old man would be a hundred years,
is soon to be life.

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