Cuisle mo chroí

My heart pulse
Home | Tags: Sean-Nós | Submitted by ColmSagCeo
Do you have any further information about this song? Edit this page and help us expand this section.
Do you have any further information about this song? Edit this page and help us expand this section. ^close


English (machine translation)

'Your love I gave thee cages, a maiden, from the beginning
From leagas my eye on for bhánchnis,
is that I would be better than most of the gold butter phúits
That would in Clúid in time mother can,
would love to mhachaí there romhatsa a cow horseshoe
is your day-treated bed net rum id thee,
I would value buckles id coronary shoes as pounds,
is, darling, or shall give your hand to me? '

'I would never put my hand never any order,
as a story you there known in can time mother,
she received your report that despicable originally
That ólfá for shúsa house of the bartender,
is that often, dear, you from crown to pound
wearing for single young women without reputation
is after selling a music man farthing id would phúits
is the way you who would hand you. '

'Do creidse lies all held
as rarely I go to the house of the pub,
money is my pockets and bulk butter thrúnc
is not spent ever pound on any present,
will otherwise of business I in the autumn is to us,
' Harvesting potatoes gardens are taking stakes of a base,
is my bhuaibh mhachaí full of white and black
is not nobody but my mother two milking. '

'A man shop in Youghal that I find is a desire,
is most likely to be those which would I prefer,
A would sell my master the quarter this to us
is God, not him those' I would have been a student. '
For I took over is that lane was narrow,
was after me so short a daorphuins were both given,
all was better than anyone calling it to the rum
is sold humbly she came from.

Tomorrow morning when the dew was successful
Your she screamed for her mother yelled at her,
For she wet her clothes with eye drops
is for this that I mhóidigh about it,
'them, making dúrtsa heard her quietly
In go, sell barley to Youghal on the ship,
I would love sheep groups arriving on this fair to us,
is that it bpósfainn in london independently.

For ritheas the road and the near-over
is not had in any corner of the street is,
That dtánag poorly under the opinion that home
is surprised at the people how dtánag,
As far as my work have told me to sit,
not, 'Take off your coat that drops ólfair drink ',
but the hardness of fhuarma old man sitting
is not a pipe but Fibre cnáideach.

'' Them, where did caught the stake 'was around your home?
Or where did caught sheep for inclusion?
Or where did caught the barley was in Youghal for sale?
Or where did caught cow ciardhubha is white?
From a quick look-in as ghéilleas thy foolish way is that
departs so much in the sky with the wind,
not marry you if my life dtéinn fleet
But I never endure my needle. "

Warning: This is a machine translation!
Can you help us provide a proper one?


We will work out the chords for you on request.