Its not seen you, darling,
is your chaoinspiorad separated from us forever,
Away, unfortunately, as every friend,
Dar luster shone in that direction.

The more we see that you,
Without your voice heard with our lives,
When thigeas flowers in spring,
and the fen binncheol on each branch.

Oh, often we walked together,
When bright flower of youth on your cheeks,
But now my poor heart homesickness,
Pouring the tears on your grave.

The more we'll never done,
Without your voice heard with our lives,
When thigeas flowers in spring,
and the fen binncheol on each branch.

Is that I'm exhausted when dhearcaim,
Chois the grave where you are now 'to ??impress,
and tromann smaoitím my heart when,
on areas which we walked side by side.

The more we'll never done,
Without your voice heard with our lives,
When thigeas flowers in spring,
and the fen binncheol on each branch.

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