An Páistίn Fionn

Grá lem’ anam mo pháistín fionn
A bhfuil a croí is a haigne ag gáire liom
A cíocha geala mar bhláth na gcrann
Is a píob mar eala lá Márta

Is tusa mo rún mo rún mo rún
Is tusa mo rún is mo ghrá geal
Is tusa mo rún mo chumann go buan
‘Sé mo chreach gan tú agam ó do mháithrín

Cara mo chroí, mo pháistín fionn
A bhfuil a dá ghrua ar lasadh mar bhláth na dtom
Tá mise saor ar mo pháistín fionn
Ach amháin gur d’ólas a sláinte

Tréigfead mo chairde is mo mhuintir gaoil
Tréigfead a mhaireann de mhnáibh an tsaoil
Ach ní Tréigfead lem’ mharthain thú, a stór mo chroí
Go síntear I gcómhra faoi chlár mé


Ged is grianach

Ged is grianach an làtha o
Hao ri ri ho ro
Huraibh o ro ho ho
Hao ri ri o

Gur beag m’aighear ri bhòidhchead
‘s mi ri coimhead a’chaolais
‘s gun mo ghaolsa ‘ga sheòladh
Ach nam faicinn thu tighinn
‘s mi gu rachadh ‘nad chòmhdhail
‘s mi gu rachadh ‘nad choinneamh
Air mo bhonnan gun bhrògan
‘s cheart aindheoin luchd diùmbaidh
‘s mi gun dùraigeadh pòg dhut
Ged a chuirte mi’m sheasamh
Air an t-seisean Di-dòmhnaich
Ann am fianais na cléire
‘s gun ach léine ‘gam chòmhdach

Though the day is sunny
Little my joy in its beauty
And I watching the narrows
And my love is not sailing there
But if I were to see you coming
I would go to meet you
I would go to meet you
On the soles of my feet without shoes
And despite folks’ disapproval
I’d dare to kiss you
Though I’d be summoned to stand
Before the kirk session on Sunday
In sight of the clergy
With only a shirt covering me


Chuir m’athair mise

Chuir m’athair mise dh’an taigh charraideach
‘n oidhche sin a rinn e bhanais dhomh
Gur truagh a righ nach b’e m’fhalaraidh
M’an do bhrist mo làmh an t-aran dhomh
M’an d’rinn mo sgian biadh a ghearradh dhomh
Sheathain chridhe nan sùl socair
Tha do bhàta nochd ‘sna portaibh
Och ma tha chan eil I socair
O nach robh thu ghaoil na toiseach

My father put me in the house of strife
That night that he arranged the wedding for me
Alas that it wasn’t my funeral
Before my hand broke the bread for me
Before my knife cut up my food
John, my love of the gentle eyes
Your boat is tonight in the harbour
But it’s not steady
Because you weren’t, my love, upon her prow