CAOINEADH AN DAOIR

Ó ba thall sa tSeineagáil, is gan saoirse agam le fáil
Mé ruaigthe go Virginia,-ginia, Ó.
An Afraic Thiar mo bhrón, críoch nach bhfeicfidh mé níos mó
Uch monuar! Tá mé creachta, creachta Ó.

Is ar a cósta mín, sioc ná sneachta bán ní bhíonn,
Gach abhainn ag rith de shíor, blátha gleoite ann ar m’fhíor!
Uch monuar! Tá mé creachta, creachta Ó.

Gach ualach orm, gach tasc, is is eagal dom an lasc
I gcríochaibh seo Virginia,-ginia, Ó
Gan aon chara agam sa chúirt, is níl faic im’ shaol ach buairt
Uch monuar! Tá mé creachta, creachta Ó.

THE SLAVE’S LAMENT

It was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthral,
For the lands of Virginia,-ginia, O.
Torn from that lovely shore, I must never see it more;
And alas! I am weary, weary O.

All on that charming coast is no bitter snow and frost,
Like the lands of Virginia,-ginia, O:
Their streams for ever flow, and their flowers for ever blow,
And alas! I am weary, weary O.

The burden I must bear, while the cruel scourge I fear,
In the lands of Virginia,-ginia, O;
And I think on friends most dear, with the bitter, bitter tear,
And alas! I am weary, weary O.

Robert Burns

Lang hae we parted been /'Stóirín, Luigh Taobh Liom

File: Burns

Lang hae we parted been, Lassie my dearie; Now we are met again, Lassie lie near me. Chorus: Near me, near me, Lassie lie near me; Lang hast thou lien thy lane, Lassie lie near me. A' that I hae endur'd, Lassie, my dearie, Here in thy arms is cur'd, Lassie lie near me. Near me, near me...

Scartha le fada uaim Scartha le fada uaim ’Stóirín mo chléibhe Seo sinn le chéil’, a rún, ’Stóirín luigh taobh liom. Taobh liom, taobh liom, ’Stóirín luigh taobh liom; Fada id’ luí leat féin ’Stóirín luigh taobh liom. Gach ní a bhuair mo chroí! ’Stóirín mo chléibhe, Leigheas thú ar gach imní ’Stóirín luigh taobh liom Taobh liom, taobh liom, ’Stóirín luigh taobh liom; Fada id’ luí leat féin ’Stóirín luigh taobh liom.

O my Luve's like a red, red rose

File: Robert Burns

O my Luve’s like a red, red rose   That's newly sprung in June: O my Luve's like the melodie   That's sweetly play'd in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,   So deep in luve am I: And I will luve thee still, my dear,   Till a' the seas gang dry: Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,   And the rocks melt wi' the sun; I will luve thee still, my dear,   While the sands o' life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only Luve!   And fare thee weel a while! And I will come again, my Luve,   Tho' it were ten thousand mile.

Tá mo ghrása ar nós an róisín Tá mo ghrása ar nós an róisín   A bhláthaíonn i mí Iúil Tá mo ghrása ar nós an tsiansa   Is é á sheinnt i dtiúin. Is deas ataoi, a ainnir shéimh   Is táim go mór i ngrá: Beidh grá agamsa duit go deo   Go mbeidh an mhuir gan trá. Go mbeidh an mhuir gan trá, a chuid,   Is na clocha féin á leá Mo chroí id chroíse beidh go brách -   An mhil atá sa mheá. Mo shoraidh slán, a stóirín bán   Mo chúig chéad slán, a rún! Is tiocfad chugat arís, a ghrá,   Ag marcaíocht nó ag siúl.