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Is an dtiocfá ag baint an aitinn liom, a Mhalaí Ní Mhaoileoin? Óra thiocfainn is dhá cheangal leat, a chuid den tsaol is mo stór, Is nach rachainn chun an aifrinn leat, is ní le grá don anam é, Ach mar shúil is go mbeinnse ag amharc ar do chúilín catach bán.
Is an dtiocfá chun na coille craobhaí liom, a Mhalaí Ní Mhaoileoin? Céard a bheadh muid a dhéanamh ann, a chuid den tsaol is mo stór? Ag baint úlla de bharra craobha is ag imirt lena chéile, Is ag rince ar thaltaí gléigeal’ nó go n-éiríodh an lá bán.
Is an dtiocfá ar chúl an teampaill liom, a Mhalaí Ní Mhaoileoin? Is céard a bheadh muid a dhéanamh ann, a chuid den tsaol is a stór? Ag éisteacht leis an dántaireacht ag ministéirí Gallda, Is go socraíodh muid an cleamhnas úd, a Mhalaí Ní Mhaoileoin.
Chuaigh sí liom ar chúl an teampaill, mo chúig mhíle brón, Is nár shíl sí gur le gean uirthi, sí mo chuid den tsaol is mo stór, Nuair a d’ísligh mise síos uirthi, agus tharraing mé mo scian uirthi, Agus lig mé fuil a croí léi go dtí lascaí na cuid bróg.
Is céard é sin atá dhá dhéanamh agat, a ógánaigh óig? Céard é sin atá á dhéanamh agat, mo chuid den tsaol is mo stór? Lig m’anam liom ’s ná deán é, is ní chuirfead éileamh choíchin ort ’S go siúlfainn na seacht ríochta le do leanbhán óg.
Is tháinig Mailí Bhán ar cuairt agam dhá uairín roimhe an lá, Agus leag a béal anuas orm is nárbh fhuaire é ná an bás, An ’do chodladh atá tú, a bhuachaill, is mithid duit feasta gluaiseacht, Tá an tóir ag tíocht anuas ort faoi bhás Mhalaí Ní Mhaoileoin.
Agus cén chaoi a bhfuil do mháithrín, a ógánaigh óig? Agus cén chaoi a bhfuil do mháithrín, mo chuid den tsaol ’s mo stór? Óra tá sí buartha cráite is ní hé sin fhéin is cás di, Ach mé bheith ag goil faoin gcroich amáireach faoi bhás Mhalaí Ní Mhaoileoin.
Is the come using the gorse me, brows Malone? Oops could have two require you to part of the life in my treasure, is not I go to Mass with you, not to love the soul, But eye that I'd look at your white curly locks.
Is the come to the forest Cruagh me, brows Malone? What would we do there, a part of the life in my treasure? Using apples crops branches are playing with each other, is dancing on thaltaí shining 'or that halted the white day.
Is the come back of the church with me, brows Malone? Is what we would do there, a part of the life and treasure? Listening to the dántaireacht by ministers anglicised, is that settled we affinity for whom a bag Malone.
She went to the back of the church, my five thousand regret, is not she thought that her affection, she bounced my my dear, when I lowered it down, and I pulled my knife on it, and I let blood to her heart until welts of her shoe.
This is what you do are two, a young adolescent? What is being done to you, my life is part of my treasure? Let my soul and I do not it, not demand choíchin would compromise you and I would walk the seven kingdom with your young baby.
Is entered Mali White visiting me two uairín previous day, and set his mouth down on me is not coldest than death, the 'sleep are you, boy, it is time that you no longer move, is the pursuit is coming down on you death bags Malone.
And how is your mother, a juvenile young? And how is your mother, my domains and my dear? Oops she is worried distressed that is not already taken the case to it, But I have appetites under gcroich tomorrow death bags Malone.
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