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Is buachaillín mise a bhíodh ag imeacht go hóg le fraoch, Is ag mealladh mná deasa do chaitheas i dtús mo shaoil, Gan eagla sagart, an tEaspag ná an Pápa séimh, Ach ag ól ’s ag imirt is ag clismirt le Báb na gcraobh.
Nuair a d’éiríos i bpearsain do cheapas go rabhas san aos, Mo chúl do bhí priocaithe, triopaithe, cíortha, réidh, Mo charabhat dearg, mo hata mar dhíon ón mbraon, Mo bhuataisí leathair do scaipeadh an drúcht don bhféar.
Is mó cailín deas a thug taitneamh is gnaoi dom féin, Is gur minic mé i dtigh an tábhairne ag cnagadh is ag díol go daor, Gur imigh an lasair a bhí im leacain mar scáil na gcaor, Mo ghruaig ag glasadh mar a threascarfainn barr an fhéir.
Do bhíos-sa féin tamall is tapaidh do thabharainn léim, Agus urchar maith ceaiste do chaithinn le lúth mo ghéag, I bpáirc na speile is cneasta mar a ghearrainn féar, Agus treabhadh le capaill nach greanta mar a thógainn céim.
Cén mhaitheas san domhsa mo ghaisce is mo lúth go léir, Bhínn ag ól is ag caitheamh gur chaitheas mo stór go léir, D’fhág san mise do mo chaitheamh gan bhean gan spré, Ba é an chúis fé ndeara é, bhí an iomad im chroí den ghame.
Nuair théinnse sa Chathair ar maidin le fáinne an lae, Nuair a d’fhaighinn an blaiseadh ní cheapainn go mbíodh sé daor, Nuair a shuínn ina haice ní stadainn ach ag díol is ag glaoch, Is fad a shásaíodh an chuigeann ’na haice is ea a d’fhaightí mé.
Ciach ar an mbarrchuigeann is í a loisc is do dhóigh mo chroí, D’fhág sí siúd mise gan tapa, gan bheocht, gan bhrí, Anois atáim caite is gan airgead im phócaí puinn, Dia mór le m’anam nach ainnis gan stór i mo shlí.
Anois atáim caite is mé im sheanduine críonna, liath, Is le dhá mhaide croise bím ag tarrac mo cholna im dhiaidh, Dá bhfaighinn cúpla gloine mar ba thaithíodh liom féin d’fháil riamh, Go deimhin tréis a gcaite, do thabharfainnse cúrsa fiaidh.
Boy is yours before disappearing young as heather, is attracted to pretty women spent the beginning of my life, Without fear priest, the bishop or the Pope asleep, But drinking and playing at the Bab clismirt the branches.
When I thought arises in person to the people that I was, my back was priocaithe, triopaithe, combed, ready, My charabhat red, my hat as the roof of the drops, my leather boots to spread the dew to grass.
Most nice girl who enjoys the love to me, is that I often to the house of the pub tapping is selling dear, That left the flame had my cheeks as shadow berries, My hair glasadh as threascarfainn top grass.
Your own quick-in quick time to thabharainn jump, and shot well to chaithinn ceaiste with vigor my arm, I park the scythe as gentle as ghearrainn grass, and plowing with horses not engraved as stór step.
What goodness in my achievement for me all my vigor, I used to drink wearing that spent all my wealth, left in yours to spend my wife without dowry, should be noted is the reason it was too much butter heart of ghame.
When the City théinnse morning to ring the day, when I would get the experience I'd say it had not costly, When shuínn adjoining thereto stadainn not just selling a call, is all the chuigeann shásaíodh 'is the adjoining that I fhaightí.
Mbarrchuigeann Ciach is the best to way to burned my heart, She left without those I fast, without vitality, without meaning, Now that I am past my pockets without money nothing, God must not poor soul without storey my way.
Now that I am past my wise old man, gray, is to putt cross my principal I am drawing my turn, would obtain would thaithíodh few glass as me to find ever, fact after National consumption, for thabharfainnse fiaidh course.
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