English (machine translation)
My white Aran secure thousand, one hundred goodbye to its content,
Or I see again my era the islands in the middle of the waves,
God only know and perhaps bright shining day under the sun ',
notwithstanding all that my journey to distant Aran.
If I get my wish, not glory or property ghlacfainnse option,
Gold glory or wealth or both unnatural not King of the World,
I'd be the first two are not far from the Pleasant Lord,
My grace to the clay in God Aran distant.
What is surprising is that chuartaigh I desire and enthusiasm,
With enthusiasm heart above the islands were in the middle of the waves,
as lies also harbor the saints of slumber while high above the sun ',
is a spirit bright lived while Aran distant.
In Kill Anybody east fly on to say the authors are convinced,
of many saints are not being calculated by anyone but God,
therefore the tax Inis Fáil most countries lend 'themselves,
That land of saints ghlaoití ever on Aran in distant.
Two would sense the sponc was, again to secure me,
not attract the world's gold, though large, from my own sea port I strayed,
But I'd rather not talk peacefully without ceasacht about greed please God,
Lem friends dtéinn bosom that the clay in m'Árainn distant.
Goodbye to the town beloved oppressed harbor, most with you, friends generously,
But you all will be remembered permanently in the country of my journey,
business is a food then found that the sun supposedly 'the living,
But whether it is a thousand times more best, is in my heart to be Aran.
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