Oops, success is put a fence on the field where you were last night,
In the event that was in the desert not haphazardly on the grass,
tree is in midfield grow flower chinaware,
If true that withered the flower it forever not grow it .

And I heard, that bhideoigín, had to match ready,
Le Búrcach from Bundorragha, indeed I do not like it,
Love my heart from side to side you, darling I wait Pein
As, but only store dramanacht 'on bank Grey friend '.

Let your flood drowning the calf went in the grass,
a ghalra every death of their mothers accordingly,
Of every racket and you, darling bright my breast,
The thing that you have not rejected you biography, happy man for life.

Of course, it seemed to me that you mb'áille than the moon or the sun,
But not only those in your shadow you as you far away,
He who thóigfeadh up over me bright palace of the king
gclúid would not in my love-in there was me sitting pleasure.

Warning: This is a machine translation!
Can you help us provide a proper one?