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Sé an trua é gan mise is mo chéad searc Ar mhullach an tsléibhe amuigh, 'S gan teach ná bó bheith inár ngaobhar ann Ach an sneachta dhá chur go teo, A dhá láimh i mbrollach mo léine Is go deimhin níor bhaol dhi fuacht Is go dtabhairfinn póg mhilis dhá béilín A chuirfeadh na céadta 'un suain. Agus tháinig mé isteach ag mo mháithrín Is mo bhalcaisí báite fliuch "Muise céard a tharla dhuitse a Mháirtín, Nó cá raibh tusa a' snámh inniu?" "Nach cuma sin dhuitse a mháithrín, Mar ní bhaineann mo chás-sa dhuit? Is go ndeachfainn i gcontúirt mo bháite Le Máire taobh thall den sruth." Is déanfaidh mé cuilt de mo bhríste A sheasfas le linn na bhfear Is ní bhainfidh mé an fhéasóg seo dhíomsa Nó go bhfásfaidh sí míle ar fhad Ach siúlfaidh mé thart fá na tíre Chomh gioblach le caora ghlas Is mura bhfaighidh mise bean ar an gcaoi sin Go dtréigfidh mé an tír ar fad. Is nach trua mise tíocht Lá 'le Phádraig Is mo theanga chomh bán le cailc? 'S a liachtaí sin cailín deas álainn As seo go barr na ngealt(?) A thabhairfeadh póg dhom 'gus fáilte Is a chroithfeadh liom láimh i gceart Ach a stór os anois a' fáil bháis mé Nach galra gan náire é an tart. Tá mo mhuintir a' rá go bhfuil mé is tú pósta Ach dár m’anamsa fós nach bhfuil Is ar a bhfuil de leabhra i mo phócaí Gur ag dradaireacht leo a bhím Ach éirigh is cuir ort do chuid éadaigh ‘Gus cóireoidh mé fhéin do chol Is mura bhfaigheadh muid ár bpósadh in Éirinn Go mbeidh muid ag imeacht anonn. Is níl sé ach mí ó phós mé 'Gus faide liomsa é ná blian Around the world for sporting Gus faraor mar phós mise riamh Óra gealladh eallach is maoin dhom Ach ní bhfuair mé ach lao 'gus bó Óra cailleadh an lao sa ngeimhridh Is an t-earrach dár gcionn an bhó. Translation: It's a shame that my true love and I Aren't on the summit of the mountain outside Without a house or a cow near us But the snow falling hot Her two hands in the breast of my shirt And of course, she would not be in danger of freezing Because I would give a sweet kiss to her mouth That could put hundreds at ease. I came in to my mother And my clothes were soaking wet "Now what happened to you, Martin, Where were you swimming today?" "That doesn't matter to you, mother, My case doesn't concern you But I went in danger of drowning With Mary over the stream." I'll make a quilt from my trousers Which will last for the age of man And I won't shave off this beard Until it grows a mile I'll walk around the country As ragged as a grey sheep And if I don't find a woman that way I'll abandon the country entirely. Isn't it a pity coming to St. Patrick's Day, And my tongue as white as chalk? And the amount of beautiful girls From here to the top of the (madman?)* Who would give me a kiss and a welcome, And would properly shake hands with me But my love, if I'm dying now Isn't thirst a disease with no shame My family say that you and I are married, But on my very soul we aren't yet And on all the books in my pockets I only ever fool around with them But get up and put on your clothes And I'll settle our relationship myself And if we can't get married in Ireland We'll be heading abroad. It's only been a week since I married But it feels longer than a year Around the world for sporting And I regret having ever married I was promised cattle and land But I only got a cow and a calf The calf died in the winter And the spring after, the cow. I wasn't able to make sense of this line. If you can, please let me know! Video Upload powered by https://www.TunesToTube.com