Originale | Traduzione inglese da www.irishpage.com
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NA BUACHAILLÍ BÁNA | THE WHITE BOYS |
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A Dhonncha Brúin 's deas do chraithfinn lámh leat | O, Dennis Browne I'd happily shake your hand |
Agus ní le grá duit ach le fonn do ghabháil | And not for love of you, but a desire to capture you |
Cheanglóinn suas thú le rópa cnáibe | I would tie you up with a hempen rope |
Agus chuirfinn mo "Spír" i do bholg mór. | And I'd put my spear in your big belly. |
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Mar is iomaí buachaill maith chuir tú thar sáile | For 'tis many a good lad you sent abroad |
Thiocfas anall fís is cúnamh leo | Whose return is envisioned along with help |
Faoi chultaibh dearga agus hataí lása | Wearing red uniforms and lace (trimmed) hats |
'S beidh an droma Francach a' seinm leo! | And the French drums playing for them! |
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A chrann duilleach, má chríondo do bhláthsa, | O budding tree, if your flowers wither, |
mo chreach níor dhaingnigh do fhréamhacha | My despair that your roots did not set |
mar tháinig an donas orm le linn na bhFrancach | Because I despaired in the time of the French |
is an t-arm Gallda ar gach uile thaobh. | And the foreign armies on all sides |
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Cén bhrí an cluiche seo go dtaga an Spáinneach | What purpose this game till the Spaniard comes |
is imeoidh an pharlaímint ó chumhacht an rí, | And the parliament taken from the kings control, |
seo é an imirt a bhfaighidh muid sásamh | Here's the play that would bring us satisfaction |
beidh an talamh bán againn ar bheagán cíos'. | The land will be clear to us at low rents. |
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Ag teacht an tséasúir déanfaidh muid sléachtadh, | When comes the season we will slaughter, |
maróidh muid céad agus dhá mhíle bó, | We will kill two thousand one hundred cattle. |
beidh buailí Shasana le beagán géimní | The English bulls will have little to roar about |
ag teacht an tséasúir má bhíonn muid beo. | When comes the season if we are alive. |
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Beidh leathar fairsing ag na gréasaithe Gaelach | There will be leather aplenty for Irish shoemakers |
is ní iarrfaidh muid péire orthu níos lú ná coróin, | And we will not ask for a pair less than a crown, |
beidh bróga againne gan Dia dá méadú | We will have shoes without God's measure |
is ní íosfaidh muid béile níos mó gan feoil. | And we'll not eat a meal again without meat. |
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A Johnny Gibbons mo chúig chéad slán leat, | Johnny Gibbons I give you my best wishes |
is fada uaim thú in sa nGearmáin | You are far away from me in Germany |
is é do chroí gan chealgadh a bhí riamh le suairceas | It was your pure heart which was always joyful |
ar an cnoc seo thuas tá ár gcúnamh fann. | On this hill above there is faint help. |
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Tá sé dá aithris dúinn ó bhéal an údair | It is being recited to us from the author's mouth |
go loiscfidh an slúp linn nár baisteadh a dhream, | That the sloop will be destroyed whose crew was not baptised, |
mura dtaga tú de relief orainn ins' aimsir chruatain | If you do not come to our relief in this time of hardship |
is mór an truaí muid faoi bharra gleann. | Great will be our misery at the head of the glenn. |
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Tá Johnny Gibbons is ár nAthair Maol're | Johnny Gibbons and our Father Mallory |
agus iad á gcaomhúint amach faoin móin, | They are being protected out in the bog, |
faoi thart is faoi easonóir is fhuacht na hoíche | Thirst and dishonour and cold of the night |
is níl fiú an bhraoin dí acu ná dram lena ól. | They have not even a drop or a dram to drink. |
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Ní mar sin a chleacht siad ach fuíoll na bhfuíoll | This is not how they lived but in abundance |
agus shoraidh díofa nach dtug aire dó, | And curses to them who didn't care for him, |
is rímhór m'fhaitíos mura bhfuil ag íosa | Great is my fear if Jesus does not have |
go mbeidh siad síos leis, agus tuilleadh leo. | Them in his displeasure, and more with them. |
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Tá a fhios ag an saol nár mharaíos caora | The world knows that I didn't kill a sheep |
in san oíche is nár speir mé bó, | In the night nor hamstring a cow, |
Má tá i ndán is go n-éireoidh an lá linn | If from my poem we win the day |
go bhfaighidh muid sásamh in san gcúis seo fós. | May we be satisfied in this cause yet. |
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Bronnann muid Camas ar an Athair Maol're | We present Camas to Father Mallory |
is Baile an Mhaoil le haghaidh a bhó | And a place of plenty for his cow |
is ní bheidh muid choíche arís ár ndíbirt | And we never again shall be banished |
gan bhia gan dídean amach faoin móin. | Without food or shelter out on the bog. |
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Tá bullán bacach faoi bharr an tsléibhe | There is a crippled bullock on the mountain |
is deir gach aon neach nach mbeidh i bhfad beo, | And everyone says he will not live very long, |
Coirnéal Máirtín 'tá ina cheann ar an taobh sin | Coronel Martin is in charge on that side |
agus measaim féin gur aige is cóir. | And I believe that he deserves it. |
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Tá céad fear acu a chuir an t-airgead le chéile | There are a hundred men who put the money together |
nár ghearr féith is nár ith an fheoil, | Who did not cut muscle nor eat the meat, |
ach, a chlann Mhig Eochagáin, má tá tú in Éirinn | But, clann Mac Eochagan, if you are in Ireland |
ná lig an léirscrios go hIorras Mór. | Don't let the destruction come to Erris Mor. |