I'm tired to my heart of marriage
And of the young men of this world
They'd be better off with a nice girl
Than a woman who had money
To stay awake the whole long night
Wouldn't it be fine to be sporting with her
Instead of the old woman who snores
And pulls the blanket to her

When I go to a wake-house or funeral
All the young women ask me
Cormac, are you getting married
Or do you see that youth is wearing away?
I said to them and I still say
That I do indeed see it, alas
And those who aren't married
Have all the fun in life

I will go complaining and chattering
To __ far in the west
I'll take a trip to Aran
To the young woman who has tormented my heart
By the book, if my marriage has been made
It's not that my heart has been bound
And I'll go off to Rome
To get permission to marry again