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Théim amach ’na Chamais BhigA sheiftiú an méid a thig, Glasán beag ná glasán mór dá dtiocfadh a fháil, Nuair a phillim arís ’un toighe a chur tuairisc greim bídh, Bheir sí orm aghaidh a craois is méadal mór.
Ó, mo chreach ’s mo mhíle díth, Nó gur spreag sé in mo chroí, A ghabháil i gcleamhnas riamh le Beití Sailí Deain, Nó níl aon lá ó cuireadh an snaidhm Orm féin ’s ar Bheití mhín Nach bhfuil leatrom agus léan domh féin i ndán.
Nuair a théimse siar ’na trá A chur amach bodóg agus leathach, Tiocfaidh mé aniar salach sronnach marbh tuirseach amach ón lá, Nuair a thigim isteach ’un toighe a chur tuairisc greim bídh, Fágfaidh sí pláta brachán Indian is cáfraith fúm.
Is iomaí cnapán salach trá A bhris ar an éan is ar an mhaide thiar, ’S char baineadh truisleadh riamh ná scanradh as do chroí, Is go n-éireofá go cruinn leis an fhaoileann ar an toinn, Is go dtiocfá i dtír le lasta liúdar i bPoll an Lín.
Barr an Phointe is an Bhoilg Mhór, Sruth Phort Deilg is an Camas Mór, Béal Phort Chala ó thuaidh go beacht as Droim an Bhogha, Bhí tú i dtólamh ó thaobh go taobh, ’S bhí tú i gcónaí bonn ar bhonn, ’S cha dtug tú riamh do dheireadh don Oitir Mhór.
Ach tá tú caite anois is lom, ’S tá sliocht an anróidh ar do cheann, Chaill tú bláth na hóige a bhí ort i dtús do shaoil, Mar sin féin is tú grá mo chroí, Cha scaraim leat choích’, Nó go síntear ins an chill mé le do thaobh.
Dhéanfaidh Mac John Eoin go beacht Cros de chéaslaidh a bheas gan lucht, ’S dhéanfaidh an curach cónair dhíon domh féin go brách, ’S cuirfidh Beití le mo thaobh léinidh uisce de mhálaí plúir, Is dhéanfaidh scarbh marbhfáisc orm san uaigh.
I go out 'of Camas Small To what can improvise, Glasson small or large finches both could get, Once again phillim' un toighe to report some food, Bring me a breech face a big Méadal.
Oh, my ruin and my dearest deprivation, Or that he inspired in my heart, To catch in kinship never Bethany Willow by the Standards, Or no days of the knot and I Bheití gentle Not oppression and sorrow for myself destiny .
When I go back 'the beach Take out heifer and halves, I will dirty resilient sronnach dead tired out from the day, when thigim in' un toighe to report some food, will leave a plate of porridge indian is cáfraith me.
Many lump dirty beach A break of the bird on the stick behind, and char were truisleadh never not scare off your heart, is that éireofá exactly the beauty, of the waves, is to come ashore cargo Saithe in Hole Lin.
Top Point of Abdominal Great, Stream Port Deilg is the Camas Mor, Belfast Port Chala north precisely from Drum Rainbow, You were always from side to side, and you were always tandem, and cha gave you wherein Oitir ever to end the Great.
But you have spent now bare, and a passage anróidh on your head, You lost the flower of youth that you had in the beginning your life, however as you love my heart, Cha scaraim you forever, Or is extended in the I cell by your side.
Son John John will precisely Cross of chéaslaidh to be without force, and by the indoor corridor curach myself forever, and my perspective will shift Is Bethany water of flour bags, a scarf made ??marbhfáisc me in the grave.
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