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Is a bhruinnillín bhéasach, is tú a mhéadaigh míle osna i mo lár, Is go luaitear le chéile na céadta nach bpósann go brách, Do dhá shúilín chlaona is do bhéilín ciúin tanaí mín tláth, Is tú mo stóirín le bréagadh ’s dá bhféadfainn é, ghabhfainn do pháirt.
Is nach mise a bhíos cúthal ins an gclúid nach mbíonn aithne orm ann. Ag cuimhneamh ar mo Mhóirín tráthnóna is go moch leis an lá, Ag Dia Mór atá na cumhachta, níor shiúil sé fear eile níos fearr, A stór, ná tabhair cúl dhom, is tú an chúlfhionn lena dtug mé dhi grá.
Is a bhuachaillí óga, ná pósaigí a lán de na mná, Mar níl ina nglórthaí ach mar a d’éireodh an tuile ar an trá, Go dtriomaí Loch Éirne is go dtréige an eala an clúmhach bán, Ní inseoidh mé go héag dhuit cén réasún lena dtug mé dhuit grá.
Is bhruinnillín polite, as you grew thousand sigh in my center, is stated together hundreds not marry forever, Your two spy divert and your mouth quiet thin smooth tláth, You are my darling with coaxed and if I could it, ghabhfainn your part.
It is not I who I was cúthal in the gclúid not know I exist. Given my morin evening early in the day, At Great God's power, not walked another man better, Treasure, do not give back me, you are the kinder chúlfhionn which I gave love.
As young boys, pósaigí not a lot of women, as there where only voices that arise as the flood on the beach, In dtriomaí dtréige Lough Erne as the fluffy white swan, I will not tell thee what reasonably to expire I gave thee with love.
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