A' Bhirlinn Bharrach - Karen Matheson

Hug air i-a, hug air ir-u

Air a bhata laidir dhionach

Theid I cuairt do na h-Innsean

‘S as a sin gu tir a h-eolais

Gaoth an iar-dheas far an fhearrainn

‘S ise g’iarraidh tighinn do bharraidh

Chuir I air a sliasaid Canaidh

‘S bheat I’n gailionn gu Maol Domhnaich

Gaoth an iar-dheas far na linne

Muir ag eirigh ‘s ruth ‘na mhire

‘S ise nach iarradh gu tilleadh

Ach a gillean a bhith deonach

Nuair a chuirte rithe rifeannan

Pairt de' canabhas a' dhiobradh

B’eutrom a ghearradh I sinteag

Dol gu Tir Mhic Nill air bhoidseachd

Thug iad an Cuilthionn mar ainm ort

Beanntainean cho mor ‘s tha;n Albainn

Cuireadh canabhas air falbh thu

Ged tha sud ‘na sheanchas neonach

Hey i-a, hey ir-u

On his strong defensive stick

She will go on a trip to India

From there to the land of her knowledge

Southwest wind off the land

She wants to come to terms with it

She put Canna on her thigh

I beat the galley to Maol Domhnaich

Southwest wind off the pool

A rising sea and a rushing rush

She does not want to return

But her boys be willing

When riffles were added

Part of the canvas dissipate

It was easy to cut into a stretcher

Going to Tir Mhic Nill on a witchcraft

They named you the Cuillin

The largest mountains in Scotland

Canvas would send you away

Although this is a weird story