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I bhfad ó bhaile thriall mo stórGo críocha an Oileáin Úir, Is d’fhág sí mé anseo faoi bhrón, ’S gan triomú ar mo shúil, Luadh mé léithe i dtús mo lae, ’S nach trua leat féin mo scéal, Ó, grá mo chroí mo chailín deas, Sí a thógfadh domhsa cian.
Is mór mo chumhaidh ’do dhiaidh, a rún, Ó d’éalaigh tú thar toinn, Tá an saol faoi ghruaim, tá an aimsir fuar, Tá mé cráite buartha tinn, Beo ní bhead le cumhaidh ’do dhiaidh, ’S a stór, táim cloíte i bpéin, Ó, grá mo chroí mo chailín deas, Sí a thogfadh domhsa cian.
A rún mo chléibh, anois pill arís, Go bpóstar mé agus tú, Beidh só agus aoibhneas inár saol, ’S beidh buaireamh an tsaoil ar shiúl, Beidh saol an phósta séanmhar sóúil Suáilceach sona suairc, ’S ní bhead arís faoi bhrón mar ’bhí, ’S ní baol domh choíche gruaim.
Far from heading home my darling In the Islands Fresh purposes, she is left me here in sorrow, and without drying my eyes, mentioned I first gray in my day, and not pity my story, Oh, my love my heart pretty girl, She would take me a remote.
It is my grief 'after you, darling, Since you escaped from over the sea, life is miserable, the weather is cold, I am tormented worried sick, Live homesickness would necessarily not' behind, And dear, I exhausted and in pain, Oh, my dear love my pretty girl, She would take me a remote.
Love of my heart, now pill again, In bpóstar me and you, will be luxury and joy in our lives, and will concern all away, will be a marriage thriving delicious virtuous happy chanting, And would necessarily again bereaved 'was, and me never risk not gloom.
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