Ó Dheara, ‘Sheanduine
O Yerra, Old ManIrish
Comhairle a fuaireasa amuigh ar an mbóthar
Ó rógaire sagairt an seanduine a phósadh
Ach ba chuma leis siúd ach go méadóinn a phóca
Is go mbeinn fad a mhairfinn ag brath ar na comharsainn
Curfá:
Ó dheara 'sheanduine, leatsa ní gheobhadsa
Ó dheara 'sheanduine, loscadh is dó ort
Ó dheara 'sheanduine, leatsa ní gheobhadsa
Is dá mbeinnse i mbéal dorais ná beirimse beo ort
Chuasa go Corcaigh ag triall ar ghléas tórraimh
Píopaí tobac agus cláracha comhrann
Ar mo theacht dom abhaile go tinn tuirseach brónach
Cá bhfaighinnse mo 'sheanduine ach ag róstadh muicfheola
Dá bhfaighinnse mo 'sheanduine báite i bpoll móna
A chosa bheith briste is a chnámha a bheith leonta
Do thabharfainn abhaile é is do dhéanfainn é a thórramh
Is do shiúllóinn amach leis na buachaillí óga
Má phósainn tú an seanduine, pósfaidh tú claidhaire
Fágfaidh sé a bhalcaisí romhat ar a staighre
A déanamh ar maidean beidh sé ag cnáimhseáil le claidhreacht
Is siar sa tráthnóna beidh ag seimint go meidhreach
Phósas an seanduine, is orm bhí díchéille
Dheineas an méid sin ar chomhairle mo ghaolta
Chuas abhaile leis faraoir an scéal sin
Is déiríos ar maidin is bfhearr liom an t-éag liom
Ó dheara 'sheanduine, leatsa ní gheobhadsa
Ó dheara 'sheanduine, loscadh is dó ort
Ó dheara 'sheanduine, leatsa ní gheobhadsa
Is cúpla Domhnach a chuirfidh fén bhfód thú
English
Advice I received out on the road
From a rogue of a priest to marry an old man
But he cared for nothing save that I would increase his wealth
And that I would be for my whole life dependent on the neighbors
Chorus (after each verse):
O yerra, old man, being with you is not for me
O yerra, old man, may you be scorched and burned
O yerra, old man, being with you is not for me
And if I were at the door I would catch you alive
I went to Cork looking for the wherewithal for a wake
Tobacco pipes and wood for a coffin
On my return home, sick, tired and sad
Where did I find my old man but roasting bacon
If I were to find my old man drowned in a boghole
His legs broken and his bones in pain
I'd take him home and I'd wake him
And I'd walk out with the young boys
If you marry an old man, you will marry a rogue
Who will leave rags before you on the stairs
In the morning he'll be complaining with roguery
And in the evening he'll be merrily playing music
I married an old man, I had no sense
I did that on the advice of my relatives
I went home with him, sad is the story
And I got up in the morning preferring to be dead
O yerra, old man, being with you is not for me
O yerra, old man, may you be scorched and burned
O yerra, old man, being with you is not for me
And a couple of Sundays will put you under the sod