English (machine translation)
Not my life serving from scaras to drink this
But coughing and fog and confrontation have my heart,
and that to deirid young women have been narrowed up my throat
Do seinnfinn port or music for that rincfidís me reel,
But success-se is booming off for road de Courcy,
is not part of your business tell its live lives of your body,
will tiarsa ts in front there, the glasses filled on board there
is about if the cord, to spend break through.
The de Courcy you the beech and passed to the brother,
will take over you that will prevent you a drink,
will give thee coráiste to relinquish the áirseoir,
as often you join or accompany you in the road,
are you now stráire id, do not you gold plate,
are not you a woman or a child but your pipes full of music,
and you will die in the loop the fence or in a breach
is t'anamsa will forever burn in hell if.
My heart is as black as hairne or coal buailfí in forge
From airíos are saying that hell im him,
the priest is the brother, the bishop is the Pope,
not erected my part if stopfainnse of drinking,
But landlady her I broke when she took the book in my presence
in their own health ólfainn suífinn that down yet,
was the history I stayed until the next morning,
is my main mheidlí cards for I left under the table.
Stadfad henceforth my poems, I do not want more to say
But that families Gael without fáltha is that as to be still,
They are out under mbáistigh at grubbed is at tarlamh,
priests and brothers grease criminals meat ',
would suit the oil you die, it would not need immediate
Without money or plate or drops to drink,
Hell is a lot of them, between priests and brothers,
and those meidlí and high cards in front of them.
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