The Corrs Buachhaill on Eirne
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Buachaill ?n ?irne m? is bhr?agfainn f?in cail?n deas ?g.
N? iarrfainn b? spr? l?i, t? m? f?in saibhir go leor
Is liom Corcaigh d? mh?id ?, dh? thaobh an ghleanna, is T?r Eoghain,
Is mura n-athra’ m? b?asa?, is m? an t-oidhre ar chontae Mhuigheo.
Buachailleacht b?, mo leo, n?r chleacht mise riamh
ach ag imirt is ag ?l le h?gmhn? deasa f? shliabh.
M? chaill m? mo st?r n? m?ide gur chaill m? mo chiall
Is n? m? liom do ph?g n? an bhr?g at? ar caitheamh le bliain.
Rachaidh m? am?rach a dh?anamh leanna f?n choill,
gan coite gan b?d gan gr?in?n brach’ ar bith liom,
ach duilli?ir na gcraobh mar ?ide leaba os mo cheann
is ?r?, a sheacht m’anam d?ag th?, is t? ag f?achaint orm anall.
I am a boy from Ireland and I’d coax a nice young girl,
I wouldn’t ask for a dowry with her, I’m rich enough myself,
I own Cork, big as it is both sides of the glen and Tyrone,
And if I don’t change my ways I’ll be the heir for County Mayo.
Cow herding, my Leo, I did not never practice,
But playing and drinking with new young women by the mountain.
If I lost my wealth and I don’t think I lost my sense,
And your kiss is no more to me than a show worn for a year.
My love and treasure, don’t marry the old grey man,
But marry a young man, my Leo, even though he lives but a year,
Or you’ll still be without a daughter or son above you,
Crying in the afternoon or in the morning hard.