Amhrán Pheadair Bhreathnaigh - Altan

Tráth chuaigh mé seal tamailt ar cuairt

Gur bhreatnaigh mé uaim an spéir

Thart fá na hoileáin ó thuaidh

Mar bheadh eilit agus cú 'na diaidh

'Sé deirfeadh gach duine fán chuan

Tráth thuirling mé anuas fán ché

Aithnim go maith ar do ghruaim

Gur fear thú a bhfuil ruaig do dhiaidh

Casadh domh cailín dheas óg

Ach má casadh sí a labhair go géar

Más fear thú a bhain do mhnaoi óig

Cha mholaim rómhór do «thrade»

Chonaic mé fear ar tír mór

Is é ag imeacht gan bhróg inné

Is dóigh liom gur tusa an fear óg

Is go bhfuil ort an tóir do dhiaidh

D’fhreagair mé an ainnir dheas óg

Mar ghlac sí go mór mo scéal

'Stad do do mhagadh níos mó

Nó ní duine den tseort sin mé

Ach suigh thusa anall I mo chomhair

Is bí ag an nós liom féin

Nó rachaidh mé os coinne mo shróin

Amach ar tír mór le léim

Thit muid I dtuirse 's I mbrón

Is d’fhiafraigh an óigbhean díom

Cá bhfaighimis gloine le hól

A thógfas an brón dar gcroí

Tá teach beag ar leataobh an róid

Agus coinníonn sé I gcónaí braon

Gabh thusa gus «rappal» ar an bhord

Is ní dhíolfaidh do phócaí phingin

Bhí biotáilte fairsing go leor

A raibh beagán 'á ól sa tír'

'S dá dtarrnóinnse Galún Uí Dhomhnaill

B’fhurast mo scór a dhíol

Once I visited for a while

That I looked down at the sky

Around the northern islands

Like an elk and a hound after him

Everyone would say about the harbor

Once I landed around the pier

I know your gloom well

You are a man who is being chased

Turns to me a pretty young girl

But if she turns she speaks sharply

If you are a man related to your young wife

I do not highly recommend your «thrade»

I saw a man on a mainland

He is leaving without a shoe yesterday

I think you are the young man

The pursuit of success is what you need

I answered the young fair maiden

Because she really took my story

'Stop your mockery anymore

Or I'm not that kind of person

But you sit back in front of me

Be in the habit of being myself

Or I'll go opposite my nose

Out on the mainland to jump

We fell into weariness and sorrow

The young lady asked me

Where would we get a glass to drink

Which will lift the sadness of our hearts

There is a small house by the roadside

And it always keeps dripping

You go to «rappal» on the table

And your pockets will not sell a penny

Spirits were quite extensive

A little 'drinking in the country'

And if I were to draw a Gallon O'Donnell

My score was easy to sell