Ar maidin Dé MáirtOn Tuesday morning
English (machine translation)
On Tuesday morning was great material appetites myself,
was the glasses of the program are many out to the mouth,
all commonage and all over and all Ford both had between us ever,
My five thousand secure your hand was over me and not.
Do not you remember the night I was that you, maiden of gciabh,
Our lying in the heather is the world going past endurance?
While the sweet wine that arrogant person is a after me,
My servants wisely, alas, is I was foolish.
Many of the women I am in love with them at the top to five finger,
and their minds wandering and high men of all,
is not that my love-in than most benign of the mass it is,
is to see the day I will go the ring between us both.
No matter the situation lie but the amount I was the will they say,
Couple take apart the idea what I will harm my love?
Och, och, King Bray, both ndúbláfa one myself,
I would be and you close without smúid in bed with bird feathers.
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