Bunan Bui

A Bhuinnen Bhu is mo chr do lu
Is do chnmha snte ar leaca lom'
Is nach dtearn t dth no dolaidh sa tr
Is narbh fhearr leat fon n uisce poill.
D gcuirfe scala f mo dhin
Go raibh t i ngibhinn n i ndeacair iot'
bhainfinnse bim ar Loch Mhic an in
A fhliuchfadh do bhal is do bhrollach sos.

N hiad bhur n-anlaith at m ag agaoin
An chuach, an traona n an chorr-bhreac
Ach an Buinnen Bu, a bh ln de chro
Is gur cosil liom fin i snua is i ndreach.
Bhodh s ag sorl na d
Is deir daoine go mbm ar an ns sin seal
Is nl braon d bhfuighinn nach ligfinn sos
Ar fhaitos go bhfuighinn fin bs den tart!

Is 'd'iarr mo str orm ligint den l
N nach mbeinnse beo ach seal beag gearr:
Is dirt m li gur chan s an bhrag
N go mb'fhaide do mo shaol an braon seo a fhil.
Nach bhfeiceann t an an phobin ridh
Go dteachaidh s in ag den tart ar ball?
Is a dhaoine clibh, fliuchaig bhur mbal
N n bhfuighidh sibh braon i ndiaidh bhur mbis!
Oh Yellow Bittern, alas to see you stretched
And your bones there lying on bare flagstones
You did no harm at all in the country
And would just as prefer ditch water to wine
Had you only sent me a message
That you were in a quandry, in need of a drink
I would have broken the ice on the lake
To wet your beak and all the way down to your breast.

I'm not lamenting your ordinary birds
The cuckoo, the corncrake or the dappled heron
But the yellow bittern of the great heart
Who was just like me in many ways
He was always fond of the sup
And people say I'm fond of a drop myself
Whatever drink comes my way, it's down it goes
For fear that I might one day die of thirst!

And my darling asked me to give up the booze
Or I'd only be alive a short while more,
I told her straight out she was telling a lie
And that the drink extended my life's span.
Don't you see that bird with the smooth neck
That only a while ago perished with the thirst?
Ah, my pleasant people, wet your whistles
Because after death ye won't get a drop!