Tá na Páipéir Dá SaighneáilThe Papers Have Been Signed
Translation kindly provided by Brendan:
Do you have any further information about this song? Edit this page and help us expand this section. ^close
I believe there are a number of variations of this song; this version has a few differences from the one my uncle used to sing (e.g. Tir na n’Uain instead of Tir na Long) which (naturally!) I would prefer. There are also some things that don’t look right to me, but I am loathe to attempt to correct as I’m not an expert.
The papers have been signed,
And the soldiers are going over,
The drummers are happy and light-hearted,
The Irish are going to the Land of the Ships,
If I had them,
I'd give you two thousand, one hundred cows,
If you'd be with me,
In County Mayo.
Lying in my bed,
My sighs do be great,
And when I get up in the morning,
My tears are my prayers,
The hair on my head is falling out,
and disappearing like fog,
and with the help of God,
I won't be alive much longer.
When I get up and about, I'm lonely,
And I look out on the hill over yonder,
I remember your curly locks,
That have left me cut to the core,
My heart is a slab of black coal inside,
And no-one has pity for me except the King of Grace,
And whatever girl I would give you,
I would also put her in the coffin.
My stockings are all torn,
And my pockets are without a penny,
My wedding dress,
Alas, is still without a stitch,
I have debts at the pub,
But I have never drunk a drop,
But it is my greatest sorrow, my love,
That you and I wouldn't be young for a while again.
Isn't it lovely for the little birds,
Rising high up,
On one small branch,
But it's not so for me,
And my true love,
For as long as each day continues,
To keep us apart from each other.