English (machine translation)
Oh, the village is you saw the surprise,
On White Dhonncha two poor is condemned,
was a white cap in place a hat
and hemp rather róipín charabhata.
Oh, and I'm coming up for the night,
Like a great possession uainín among sheep,
My breasts loose my head I stretched,
is how I get my brother before me but extended it.
Oh, and I cried the first round at Sound Lake,
the second bottom to chroiche round,
the third round over your choirpse
include Donegal both splitting my head.
If you were in my place you should,
Below Sligo or Ballinrobe,
Bhrisfí the crowned and charged the rope
is allowed Denis White home on the information.
Oh, that Dhonncha White, it was not the most strands hung thee,
But wept for most litter barns struck,
the plow of retreating left and right,
and the red side of the upper jaw to.
Oh, that Dhonncha White, my pet is true,
like I know what you have truly won,
Drinking the cup is a redness of the pipe,
is walking in the middle of the night dew.
Dear Mr. Mhaolchróin, which sciúrsa the misfortune,
not cow calf hacker was my brother,
But pretty accurate boy on a hill is a hill,
A softly from fuaimín would hurl.
Oh, that Dhonncha White, that in the sorrow,
To excel as an iomprófá spurs and boots,
I would fashionable cloth you would permanence of cloth,
and would put you off as a decent man.
Dear Mr. Mhaolchróin, your sons were not cohabiting,
not your daughters want you dowry,
are two of the empty board and the floor is filled,
and Denis White, my, my pet, stretched.
A dowry Dhonncha White is coming home,
is not cows, sheep or horses,
But as pipe tobacco is bright candles,
and not on those two mhaíochtáil consumption.
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