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Tá an t-oileán aerach álainn spéiriúil suite ar charraig chrua,Aniar thar dhroichead i measc na sléibhte is mairtear ann gan buairt, Tá an lon is an chéirseach ag gabháil thrína chéile is iad ag tíocht le loin aduaidh, Nuair a bhog mé an ród ó Leitir Móir go hinis barr an chuain.
Tá an cosán draíochta trasna taoille a thriomaíonn ar am trá, An coinín críonna ar thóraíocht dídean is nach siúlann sé isteach ann, Ar cheal tobac téann na daoine amach an bealach seo faoi rún, Ag treabhadh an róid ó Leitir Móir go hinis barr an chuain.
Nár dheas an bádóir a bhí in Joe Bháitéir, nár dheas í a cheird is a stuaim, Maidhcil is Micil Mháirtín sa gCrompán lá ó thuaidh, Dá mhéid é spreacadh an ghála ní chuirfeadh sí an yacht go tóin, Nó gur sheol sí an ród ó Leitir Móir go hinis barr an chuain.
Is tá fílí iontacha álainn spraíúil ar cholbha an oileáin, A chumfadh píosa d’amhrán binn a thógfadh corp ón mbás, Nár dheas é a hathrú ceaileacó is go mairfeadh sé go buan, Nár sheol sé an Yank sa ród ó Leitir Móir go hinis barr an chuain.
Is tá deireadh mo smaointe scríofa síos agam anseo le dúch, Slán leat, a Mhurchadh ghnaíúil, a chaith neart den Chlarke sa gclúid, Tá brón is briseadh croí orm is tá na deora le mo ghrua, Ach rachaidh mé fós an ród ó Leitir Móir go hinis barr an chuain.
The island gay beautiful scenic situated on hard rock, South a bridge among the mountains mairtear without concern, are the numbers that the thrush engaged upset when they ola loin guard, When I moved the road Leitir Mor to tell from the top of the harbor.
The path is magic across tidal drying time beach, the rabbit wise pursuit shelter is not he walks into it, On the absence of tobacco goes the people out of the way confidential, plowing the roadway from Leitir Mor to tell top port .
Was nice the boatman was Joe Walter, She was nice to craft the initiative, Maidhcil most Micil Martin in gCrompán day north, The larger boost the gale would not she the yacht sank, Or that she launched the road from Leitir Mor to tell top of the harbor.
It is a beautiful great poets playfully surround the island, A chumfadh piece of sweet songs to lift the body from death, was nice to change that would last ceaileacó it permanently, Did not He launched the Yank in the roadway from Leitir Mor to tell top the harbor.
The end is my thoughts written down and I here with ink, Goodbye, to Murchadh ghnaíúil, spent plenty of Chlarke in gclúid, is sorrow and heartache me most are the tears of my cheeks, But I will continue the road from Lettermore to tell the top of the harbor.
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