Before you edit: All changes are checked by a moderator before being published to the site and could take a few days.
Nuair a théim a luí san oíche, bím ag smaointiú ar an iasc,Nuair a éirím amach ar maidin, bheirim rúid go dtí an bhinn, Bíonn na héanacha ag cur pléisiúir orm ’na suí i mbéal na bpoll ’S an phéist ag an Tor Dhearg ag cur na scadán tharna droim.
Bím ag smaointiú ar an eangaigh is ar an bhád a mbíonn sí ann, Bím ag smaointiú ar na rámhaí is a mbuillí ins an toinn, Bím ag smaointiú ar an fhearthainn ’s ar an tréan a bhí sa ghaoith ’S gach uair dár chroch mé an stiúir uirthi ’s an teilm ina cionn.
Ach is deas an rud na slanntracha a bheith soilsiú ar ár mbróig, ’S dá bhfuil sa domhan á bplúchadh go minic ná iad a dhíol, Ach caithfimid a ghabháil an canál leo, maith nó olc an t-am San áit a mbeidh lúcháir ar an cheannaí romhainn ’s buidéal dúinn den lionn.
Nuair a shuím cois na tineadh, bím ag smaointiú ar an am A raibh mé fhéin ’s mo churach beag amuigh ar bharr na dtonn, ’S gan idir mé is an tsíoraíocht ach an t-éadach tana tarr Ag cosnamh gaoithe is farraige i measc éanacha na dtonn.
Ach anois atá mé aosta is mé ag éirí lag breoite tinn, Níl mé ag dúil go brách le biseach a fháil go síntear mé sa chill, Bheirim altú do Dhia na glóire mar chuir mé isteach m’am Ar chreig i lár na farraige i measc éanacha na mbeann.
When I go to bed at night, I am by thinking of the fish, when I rise in the morning, I give rúid to the gable, are the birds taking pleasure I 'of sitting in the mouth of the hole and the worm at the Tor Red taking back tharna herring.
I'm thinking of the grid is the boat that she is there, I'm thinking on the oars as the stroke in the waves, I'm thinking of the rain and strong was the wind, and every time our I hung the LED she and a teilm over.
But nice to the slanntracha be lighting our shoes, and two are in the world when congestion often than sell them, but we need to catch the canal with them, good or bad time Where are rejoices the merchant coming and we bottle of ale.
When I'm sitting along the tineadh, I am by thinking of the time A was myself and my coracle little out on top of the waves, and not between me and eternity but the cloth and delicate tummy Having reserved wind and sea among birds of waves.
But now I'm older I become sick sick poor, I do not ever expect to recuperate that I extended in the cell, I swear to God the glory grace as I put in my time on Cregg in the sea among giant birds.
SongsInIrish.com is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to amazon.com or amazon.co.uk.