Roisin Dubh - The Dubliners

A Róisín ná bíodh brón ort fé'r éirigh dhuit:

Tá na bráithre 'teacht thar sáile 's iad ag triall ar muir,

Tiocfaidh do phárdún ón bPápa is ón Róimh anoir

'S ní spárálfar fíon Spáinneach ar mo Róisín Dubh.

Is fada an réim a léig mé léi ó inné 'dtí inniu,

Trasna sléibhte go ndeachas léi, fé sheolta ar muir;

An éirne is chaith mé 'léim í, cé gur mór é an sruth;

'S bhí ceol téad ar gach taobh díom is mo Róisín Dubh.

Mhairbh tú mé, a bhrídeach, is nárbh fhearrde dhuit,

Is go bhfuil m’anam istigh i ngean ort 's ní inné ná inniu;

D’fhág tú lag anbhfann mé i ngné is i gcruth

Ná feall orm is mé i gnean ort, a Róisín Dubh.

Shiúbhalfainn féin an drúcht leat is fásaigh ghuirt,

Mar shúil go bhfaighinn rún uait nó páirt dem thoil.

A chraoibhín chumhra, gheallais domhsa go raibh grá agat dom

'S gurab í fíor-scoth na Mumhan í, mo Róisín Dubh.

Beidh an Éirne 'na tuiltibh tréana is réabfar cnoic,

Beidh an fharraige 'na tonntaibh dearga is doirtfear fuil,

Beidh gach gleann sléibhe ar fud éireann is móinte ar crith,

Lá éigin sul a néagfaidh mo Róisín Dubh.

Róisín don't be sad because you succeeded:

The brothers have come over the sea and are going by sea,

Your pardon will come from the Pope and from Rome tonight

And Spanish wine will not be spared on my Black Rose.

It's a long time that I let her go from yesterday to today,

Across the mountains to go with her, under sails by sea;

The moment I threw it 'jumped, although the current is great;

And there was string music on either side of me and my Róisín Dubh.

You killed me, my bride, and it was not better for you,

It is that my soul is in love with you and not yesterday or today;

You left me weak in shape and form

Do not betray me, I am in love with you, Róisín Dubh.

I myself would walk the dew with you and deserts of heather,

In order to get a secret from you or a part of my will.

Sweet branch, promise me that you loved me

And that she is the true class of Munster, my Róisín Dubh.

The Erne will be strong floods and hills will be torn down,

The sea will be red waves and blood will be shed,

Every mountain valley and moor in Ireland will tremble,

Some day before my Black Róisín dies.