SUANTRAÍ DO NA MAIRBH
Mar an ngrian, ar maidin múchtaIs an ré sa tsáil’ á bá
Nó, a ghrá le scaipeadh an drúchta
Tá tusa imithe uaim go brách!
Cloisim fós é ceol mór na píbe
Ar an ngaoth ón trá thall
Ach ní chloiseann tú mé ag caoineadh
Ní fheicfidh mé do ghnúis ar ball!
I do chodladh, i do chodladh
Ó táim gan suan is gan aon sólás,
Táim ag caoineadh, táim a chograch
Is leag do cheann ar m’ucht go sámh.
I do chodladh, i do chodladh
Ó táim gan suan is gan aon sólás,
Táim ag caoineadh, táim a chograch
Is leag do cheann ar m’ucht go sámh.
Seoithín seó . . .
LULLABY FOR THE DEAD
Like the sun, quenched its first morning
and the moon lost to the sea,
like the chill, lost unto the morning,
so you my love are lost to me!
I can hear now the pipers calling
on that far distant shore;
and my tears now like leaves are falling
and I will see your face no more!
You are sleeping, you are sleeping,
Oh no sleep or peace can comfort me;
I am weeping, oh I am weeping,
tonight I will sleep and sleep with thee.
Seoithín seó . . .
