Mo ghille mear

My fast ghille
Home | Tags: Sean-Nós | Submitted by ColmSagCeo
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Irish

English (machine translation)

Seal if I was my gentle maiden,
and now im widow last feature,
My spouse plowing the waves strongly
Over the hills and far away,
He is my hero, my ghille fast,
He is my Shaesar, Gille fast,
Rest or pleasure I did not distance myself from my ghille noted in quick.

Bímse permanent concern every day,
At IMF predicting hard and the tears
Since we released the boy alive
and not calculated from him, my sorrow,
He is my hero, my quick ghille ...

Not speak pleasantly neon cuckoo,
a dog in the woods voice becomes nut
All summer morning in ngleanntaibh cheoidh,
Since I released the boy alive.
He is my hero, my quick ghille ...

It seems a young Aonghus,
Le Louis Mac Cian large mbéimeann,
Le Bor, Naas cáidhmhac the like,
Taoiseach Championship delightful music,
He is my hero, my quick ghille ...

Noble, proud young horseman,
Gas or grief most pleasant complexion,
Take moving hand in a fight early,
at the downfall of the crowd is beating treon,
He is my hero, my quick ghille ...

Played on musical harps,
a wealth filled liquor board,
With high flawless intent or mist
For life and health to get me a lion.

Gille fast and while under sorrow,
is all Ireland under black chlócaí,
Rest or pleasure I did not mention in the distance from my quick ghille.
He is my hero, my quick ghille ...

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Chords

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