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Sliabh Liag mór álainn a mbíonn féar fada ag fás air,’S mil bhuí ag goil le fána ar an Mhám mar bheadh an drúcht, A bhfuil buaidh cnoic dá bhreáichte aige go fíormhullaigh Teamhrach, Go Néifinn Mhic Amhlaidh go hAontroim is go Bóinn; Bídh pléisiúr ar aontaí ann, coillte a mbíonn aoibhneas ann, Is caolbhárca síóg tráth a théid siad faoi sheol, Bídh cóistí na bprionsaí ar bhóithre dá n-ionsaí Bídh mórchuid den im ann ’s is milis bainne bó.
Sí an tulach bhinneach úr í a dtig abhaill uirthi is úllaí, Beacha ag déanamh cnuasaigh is ina gcúplaí is apaí cnó, Níl tortha ar bith dá aoibhne nach bhfásann ar an fhraoch ann, ’S is milis boladh an taomtha ar gach taobh di go barr; Bí eorna ina cruacha ann, cruithneachta ina duail ann, Cáisí buí is uachtar is luachair bhog ag fás, Samhradh go buan ann ceilúr lon is cuach ann Is méithmhart ag gluaiseacht in uachtar an Mháim.
Is ag bruach na mara i Málainn tá an sliabh maiseach álainn, An t-úll is an tslat go bhfásann ann is ní áirím sú craobh, Níl lao bó gan dáir ann ná an chéis gan a hál ann, Is an chréibhric go bhfásann fán teampall sin Aoidh; Ag bruach Bile Béilí tá an tsúil ghorm shéimhidh, Tá an seabhac ar a léim ann is é ag éirí le gaoth, ’S ag sáil Chnocán Áine tá an t-inbhear is breáichte, An breac is an bradán bán ann go ngabhfaí in do líon.
Is ag sáil Chnocán Áine tá cúirt gheal is parlús, Aol-bhallaí bána is taipléis ’na suí, Is go mór-bhruínte an tsléibhe a ghluaiseas na céadta ’Un bainse is ’un féasta is a léithéid as gach tír; Bídh slua de mhná Gréagach’ dualach dea-éadaí, Is cláirseach ar théadaí a mbréagadh agus píob, Ré ba bhinne liom an chuach ann ag seinm ar an uaigneas, I mbarr toime luachra nó in uachtar Fhor Aoidh.
Ó Dubhda agus Ó Máille is an Búrcach is fearr ann, A ndúiche agus a státa gach lá faoina súil, ’S níl long dá dtéid thar sáile nach anall air a tharlaíos, Faoi bhruach tonna báiteach is an bád faoina stiúir; Bí gleo péistí móra ann cabhlach ’na ndeoidh ann Ó cheantar Ros Eoghain ann go Bord Dhroim na nÚgh, Fionntrá a mbíonn báirí ann thart timpeall go Málainn, ’S nach iomaí amharc álainn a gheibh Áine as a dún.
An chúirt sin Mháistir English, a ghairdín is a thrinse Is a státaí thart timpeall go hInbhear an Éisc, Bídh oileán mara míonla ann géis gheal is faoilinn, Caolmhac na díomhna agus caoirigh na dtréad; Bí cabhlach na ríte ann, Francaigh as na cianta ann Crann na mbrat nach n-íslíonn don ghaoth bíos na ndéidh, Gunnaí a líonadh ann is lámhach a scaoileadh, ’S fán taobh ó dheas den teampall a gheobhas tú an t-aoibhneas go léir.
Tráth a bhaintear clog na cléire ba é an Sagart Mór an t-oidhre, Is iolra sin Chró Shléibhe tráth théid siad faoi liag, A bhfuil buaidh leis is géilliúint ó Albain go hÉirinn, Ó Ard-Rí na Gréige tá an méid sin leis faoi chíos; Bídh mac tíre agus an leon ann, Pilib agus Domhnall, Is gan ré pingin dar fhóir dóibh nár ól siad i bhfíon, Tráth théid siad ’un cuntais suídh siad i gcomplacht Agus ar an taobh ó dheas den teampall théid cantaireacht ag Aodh.
Tá sagart óg san áit seo agus fuair sé gairm cráifí, Is chaith sé seal i bparlús ag Áine sa dún, Mura bhfaighe sé canna fíona is leabaidh chlúimh éan san oíche, Táiplis is díslí ann is caoi a gcur ’un siúil; Laindéar is ceoltaí, tancair a mbíonn beoir ann, Is an uile sheórt a hordaíodh ar chóir a bheith ann, Le santú na seoda tréigfidh sé an t-ord sin Murab ionann a bhíodh Domhnall i gcóiste lena mhian.
Dochartach na féile a chúirt is a hallaí gléigeal’, ’S a chompal dá réir sin go taobh Mhín na bhFiann, Is biolrach seamrach féar glas bun is barr Chró Shléibhe, Bí duilliúr glas na féithle ann is géimneach na lao; Broic is toirc is traona, fiach na mbeann is an chéirseach, Ag iomas is ag éad ann cá dtéid siad a luí, ’S le moch na maidne ag éirí bídh cú is gadhar a n-iarraidh, ’S buafaill bhinne a séideadh fríd uachtar Fhor Aoidh.
Stone Mountain beautiful big that long grass grow it, and honey yellow was going downhill on the Maam as if the dew, Which triumph hills both bhreáichte he fíormhullaigh Tara In Nephin Mac .so that hAontroim that Boyne; Food pleasure fairs there, woods that delight there is a time in my fairy caolbhárca are underway, Food bprionsaí road coaches of their attack Restaurant majority of sweet butter and cow milk.
She mound bhinneach fresh it can abhaill her as apples, bees making clusters pairings that apes nut, not fruit any of Aoibhne not grow the fury in it, And sweet smell taomtha on each side of her top; be able stacks barley, wheat where there dowels, Cáisí yellow cream soft rushes grow, Summer permanently ceilúr most cuckoo numbers there is méithmhart moving in the Maam cream.
Is at the brink of the sea in Malin is the mountain decorative beautiful, the apple is the rod that grows there and not least raspberry, not calf cow without oak than the ground for without her brood there, is the chréibhric grow about temple that McKee; at the brink Bile meals the eye is blue shéimhidh, is the hawk to jump there is becoming a wind, And heels Mount Anne is the estuary breáichte, the trout and the salmon white to seizure in your number.
Is at heels Mount Anne court is bright as parlor, lime walls white as taipléis' of living, a highly-bhruínte the mountain to ghluaiseas hundreds ' Un bainse most 'un feast the like of each country; Restaurant crowd of women Greek 'Dualach good clothes, is a théadaí to mbréagadh harp and pipe, era I melodious cuckoo there playing the loneliness, I top or upper rushes toime Super McKee.
O'Dowd and O'Malley is the Búrcach optimum, A district and State to every day about hope, and there is a ship of dtéid abroad not forward it to tharlaíos, Under shores tons pale as the boat under his direction; Be din children major fleet 'of ndeoidh there Since Rossan area that Drumnalifferny nÚgh Board, Ventry that there báirí around to Malin, and not deriving many beautiful view from the fort Anne.
The court Master Béarla, a garden is a trench is a static around that Estuary Fish, Food sea island míonla there gases bright as faoilinn, Caolmhac the díomhna and sheep herds; Be fleet passed there, Frenchmen for centuries there tree of flags that the wind lowers the ndéidh anyway, guns shooting filled released there, and about south of the temple received the joy you all.
When extracted clock of the clergy was the Priest Great heir, is plural so Croleavy time goes they stone, Whose triumph he géilliúint from Scotland to Ireland, from High King of Greece has so much to be rent; Food wolf and the lion there, Philip and Donnell, is without bloody penny feel healed those who did not drink wine, time goes as' un accounts suídh they base in order and on the south side of the temple goes to chant at Hugh.
A young priest in this place and it got profession cráifí, is served in the parlor by Anne in close, If receives six cans of wine bed soundly birds at night, Draughts that dies there is an opportunity to put 'un walking; Lantern is ceoltaí, tancair that beer, is stipulated sheórt all should be there, With Santu treasures it tréigfidh the order Unlike former coach Donnell their desire.
Dochartach festival to court to halls shining ', and a roundabout accordingly side Mhín soldier, is biolrach clover green grass bottom top Croleavy, Be green foliage of féithle there géimneach the calf; Badgers as Torque corncrake, the peak debt is the thrush at intuition there is envy dtéid where they lie, and with early morning dog getting a dog food to their request, and sweeter buafaill blowing through Magee Super cream.
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