Tomás Ó Neachtain - An Chaora Ghlas

Описание: Sé an trua é gan mise is mo chéad searc
Ar mhullach an tsléibhe amuigh,
'S gan teach ná bó bheith inár ngaobhar ann
Ach an sneachta dhá chur go teo,
A dhá láimh i mbrollach mo léine
Is go deimhin níor bhaol dhi fuacht
Is go dtabhairfinn póg mhilis dhá béilín
A chuirfeadh na céadta 'un suain.


Agus tháinig mé isteach ag mo mháithrín
Is mo bhalcaisí báite fliuch
"Muise céard a tharla dhuitse a Mháirtín,
Nó cá raibh tusa a' snámh inniu?"
"Nach cuma sin dhuitse a mháithrín,
Mar ní bhaineann mo chás-sa dhuit?
Is go ndeachfainn i gcontúirt mo bháite
Le Máire taobh thall den sruth."

Is déanfaidh mé cuilt de mo bhríste
A sheasfas le linn na bhfear
Is ní bhainfidh mé an fhéasóg seo dhíomsa
Nó go bhfásfaidh sí míle ar fhad
Ach siúlfaidh mé thart fá na tíre
Chomh gioblach le caora ghlas
Is mura bhfaighidh mise bean ar an gcaoi sin
Go dtréigfidh mé an tír ar fad.

Is nach trua mise tíocht Lá 'le Phádraig
Is mo theanga chomh bán le cailc?
'S a liachtaí sin cailín deas álainn
As seo go barr na ngealt(?)
A thabhairfeadh póg dhom 'gus fáilte
Is a chroithfeadh liom láimh i gceart
Ach a stór os anois a' fáil bháis mé
Nach galra gan náire é an tart.

Tá mo mhuintir a' rá go bhfuil mé is tú pósta
Ach dár m’anamsa fós nach bhfuil
Is ar a bhfuil de leabhra i mo phócaí
Gur ag dradaireacht leo a bhím
Ach éirigh is cuir ort do chuid éadaigh
‘Gus cóireoidh mé fhéin do chol
Is mura bhfaigheadh muid ár bpósadh in Éirinn
Go mbeidh muid ag imeacht anonn.

Is níl sé ach mí ó phós mé
'Gus faide liomsa é ná blian
Around the world for sporting
Gus faraor mar phós mise riamh
Óra gealladh eallach is maoin dhom
Ach ní bhfuair mé ach lao 'gus bó
Óra cailleadh an lao sa ngeimhridh
Is an t-earrach dár gcionn an bhó.

Translation:
It's a shame that my true love and I
Aren't on the summit of the mountain outside
Without a house or a cow near us
But the snow falling hot
Her two hands in the breast of my shirt
And of course, she would not be in danger of freezing
Because I would give a sweet kiss to her mouth
That could put hundreds at ease.

I came in to my mother
And my clothes were soaking wet
"Now what happened to you, Martin,
Where were you swimming today?"
"That doesn't matter to you, mother,
My case doesn't concern you
But I went in danger of drowning
With Mary over the stream."

I'll make a quilt from my trousers
Which will last for the age of man
And I won't shave off this beard
Until it grows a mile
I'll walk around the country
As ragged as a grey sheep
And if I don't find a woman that way
I'll abandon the country entirely.

Isn't it a pity coming to St. Patrick's Day,
And my tongue as white as chalk?
And the amount of beautiful girls
From here to the top of the (madman?)*
Who would give me a kiss and a welcome,
And would properly shake hands with me
But my love, if I'm dying now
Isn't thirst a disease with no shame

My family say that you and I are married,
But on my very soul we aren't yet
And on all the books in my pockets
I only ever fool around with them
But get up and put on your clothes
And I'll settle our relationship myself
And if we can't get married in Ireland
We'll be heading abroad.

It's only been a week since I married
But it feels longer than a year
Around the world for sporting
And I regret having ever married
I was promised cattle and land
But I only got a cow and a calf
The calf died in the winter
And the spring after, the cow.

I wasn't able to make sense of this line. If you can, please let me know!

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