Luyện nghe bài hát Mo Ghile Mear

By sen clrach mac

Seal da im' mhaighdean shimh,
's anois im' chaite thrith,
Mo chile ag na dtonn go tran
De na gcnoc is I n-imigcin.

's mo laoch, mo mear,
's mo chaesar, mear,
Suan n san n fin
chuaigh I gcin mo mear.

Bmse ar buaidhirt gach l,
Ag go cruaidh 's ag tuar na nder
Mar uaim an buachaill be
's n romhtar uaidh, mo bhrn.

N cuach go suairc ar nin
Is nl guth gadhair I cn,
N maidin shamhraidh I ceoigh
uaim an buachaill be.

Marcach uasal g,
Gas gan gruaim is sndh,
Glac is luaimneach, I ngleo
Ag an tslua 's ag tuargain treon.

Seinntear ar chlairsigh cheoil
's tinte crt ar bord
Le ard gan chaim, gan che
saoghal is slinte d' fhaghil dom lemhan.

Ghile mear 'sa seal chumha,
's eire go lir faoi dubha;
n san n bhfuaireas fin
luaidh I mo ghile mear.

A literal translation by j. mark sugars

I was a gentle maiden,
But now I am a spent, widow,
My consort plowing the waves
Over the and far away.

He is my hero, my darling,
He is my caesar, a gallant
I've found neither nor fortune
Since my darling went far away.

Every day I am enduring grief,
nitterly and shedding tears,
Because my lively lad has me
And no is told of him - alas!

The cuckoo not sing cheerfully at noon
And the sound of is not heard in nut-tree woods
Nor morning in misty glen
Since my boy went away from me.

Noble, proud horseman,
Youth gloom, of pleasant countenance,
A swift-moving fist, in a fight,
Slaying the and smiting the strong.

Let a strain be on musical harps,
And let many quarts be on the table,
With spirit, without fault, without gloom,
That my lion may receive life and health.

darling for a while under sorrow,
And ireland under black cloacks,
I found neither rest nor fortune
Since my gallant went far away