It's why my concerns have not obtained permission port of call
In the vale lonely my love is,
is honey on rushes and butter cream
and early autumn I was the trees bloom;
not northerly wind and not rain hard there
is a wharf that harbors by ship by boat,
have more success there, not able to ride Reek,
For those who would up its darling white.

And I thought, darling, when you were young, pretty,
That Can you make learning escape me,
and bustle of the evening or the morning of autumn,
it not be done the guiding star which accompanied me;
Walking the dew as the woods cnómhar,
not I would regret not heartache,
But I get married, my darling,
is my hand proudly on a nice smooth com.

The mountain definitely are, my heart-in,
is not chodlaím night but making grief,
is the dress of silk was, is mayor finer it,
mouth thin faithful and attracted a lot;
sweeter her from me in the valleys loneliness
Do not celebrate music cuckoo bird,
and I prefer the time I stuabhean if
not the hand cream Gael families.

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