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Éirigh in do shuí suas, a bhuachaillín óig, ’Gus tabhair leat an pónaí is fearr agat ar dtús, Ach téirigh ’un an chora agus aithris do bhrón, ’Gus tabhair leat abhaile, sí Máire Ní Taidhg Óig.
’Gus a Mháire, is tú a deirim, is tú grá mo chroí, Is tú an phlándóg is deise agus is áille fán saol, Dheamhan lúibín claí ná toime nár shiúil mé in do dhiaidh, Ar shúil is go dtabharfá tuineadh dhom, sea dhiúltaigh tú mé.
Nuair a éiríonns Máire go hard ins an sliabh, Mar a íslíonns an ghealach sea a ardaíonns an ghrian, Tá ceo aoibhinn meala ag goil roimpi is ina diaidh, Is tá úllaí cumhra ar chranna ann ’gus iad ag claonadh le cumha.
Dheamhan ar mhór liomsa le bean a fháil le dhá mhíle punt, Barr sléibhe de loilíochaí agus iad a bheith i bhféar, Tréad álainn de chapaill ’gus tíobhas dá réir, Ach sí Máire mo roghain agus faighim í gan spré.
Nach truaigh ghéar gan mise is an bhean is fearr liom fán saol, I mullach Ghleann na nEang nó i nGleann Ghlan Dé, Mo dhá lámh a bheith fúithi is thairsti agam is mé a bheith ag pógadh a béil, ’Gus an oíche a bheith chomh fada agam le haon tseachtain déag.
Succeeded in sitting up, a young boy, and bring you the best of pounds at first, But téirigh 'un weir and replicate to mourn, and bring home, she Mary Young Tadhg.
And Mary, as you say, you are the love of my heart, You are the phlándóg nicest and most beautiful about life, devil bracket fence than toime not walked in behind, Of eyes that would give tuineadh me, yes rejection I.
When Mary éiríonns high in the mountain, As the moon íslíonns ardaíonns yes to the sun, is a delightful honey appetites fog that eventually faces, is a fragrant apples on masts and are inclined to nostalgia.
I swear a great woman to get two thousand pounds, Top mountain of loilíochaí and be in grass, Herd beautiful horses and economies accordingly, But Mary she and I get my discretion without dowry.
Not pity sharp without yours is the best woman I care about life, in the summit Valley nEang or Valley Rain God, My two hands to be under and beyond to me that I be kissing her mouth, And the night be long I no eleventh week.
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