Nach Cloite an Galar an Gra - Хелависа, Clann Lir

Sé mo chreach is mo dhíth, is nach cloíte an galar an grá,

Is mairg go mbíonn sé a mí, seachtain is lá.

Do bhris sé mo chroí is do mhill sé an t-easnamh i’m' lár,

Is codladh ní bhfaighim ach ag taidhreamh ar me dhian-ghrá.

‘Sé mo chreach is mo chás, nach gcáitheann sé sneachta ‘gus sioc;

Mise ‘s mo ghrá do bheith i lár na farraige amuigh,

Gan loing, gan bád, gan árthach ná aon ní ar bith

Ach caite insa tsnámh is mo dhá láimh casta ina crios.

S' do casadh slua sí orm síos chun Lios Bhaile Dháith.

Is d’fhiafraíosa díobh cé'n ní do leighisfeadh an grá?

Dúirt duine acu liom go ciúin, go taise ‘s go tnáth:

An rud a théann ins an chroí ná scaoiltear as é go brách.

Is a chailín bhig óig, ná pós an seanduine liath,

Ná cuir do dhá láimh le grá dó thairis aniar.

Mar tá'n tú beag óg is fós níor tháiing duit ciall

Is má mhaireann tú beo beidh mórchuid leanbh id' dhiaidh.

He is my prey and my need, and love is not a disease,

It's a pity it's months, weeks and days.

It broke my heart and ruined the deficit in my heart,

It's a sleep I only get to meditate on my intense love.

‘It is my prey and my case, that it does not throw snow‘ and frost;

It's my love to be in the middle of the open sea,

No ship, no boat, no vessel or anything

But worn in the swim are my two twisted hands in my belt.

A crowd turned me down to David 's Garden.

I ask them what love can cure?

One of them told me quietly, softly and quietly:

What goes into the heart is never released.

His little young girl, do not marry the old gray man,

Do not stretch out your hands with love for him.

Because you're a little young you still didn't make sense

If you survive you will have many children.