[From Gerard Manning's List of Clannad Lyrics]

I.

Ar chonnlaigh ghlais an Fhoghmhair

A stóirín gur dhearc mé uaim

Ba deas do chos i mbróig

'Sba ró-dheas do leagan siubhail.

Do ghruaidh ar dhath na rósaí

'Sdo chúirníní bhí fighte dlúith

Monuar gan sinn 'ár bpósadh

Nó'r bórd luinge 'triall 'un siubhail.

II.

Tá buachaillí na h-áite seo

A' gartha 'gus ag éirghe teann

Is lucht na gcochán árd

A' deánamh fáruis do mo chailín donn

Dá ngluaiseadh Rí na Spáinne

Thar sáile 's a shlóighte cruinn

Bhrúighfinn féar is fásach

'S bhéinn ar láimh le mo chailín donn.



III.

Ceannacht buaibh ar aontaigh'

Dá mbínn agus mo chailín donn

Gluais is tar a chéad-searc

Nó go dtéidh muid thar Ghaoth-Bearra 'nonn

Go sgartar ó n-a chéile

Bárr na gcraobh 's an eala ón tuinn

Ní sgarfar sin ó chéile

'S níl ach baois díbh á chur 'n mur gcionn.



IV.

Chuir mé leitir scríobhtha

Annsoir mo sweetheart agus casaoid ghéar

Chuir sí chugam arís í

Go rabh a croidhe istuigh i lár mo chléibh.

Cum na h-eala is míne

Ná'n síoda 's ná cluimh na n-éan

Nach trom an osna ghním-se

Nuair a smaoitighim ar a bheith 'sgaradh léi.



V.

'Sé chuala m/e Dé Domhnaigh

Mar chómhrádh 'gabháil eadar mhnáibh

Go rabh sí 'gabháil 'a pósadh

Ar óigfhear dá bhfuil san áit.

A stóirín glac mo chomhairle

'S a' foghmhar seo fan mar tá

'S cha leigim le 'bhfuil beo thú

A stór nó 's tú mo ghrádh.





Translation

[From Larry Keith Ogle]





On the green stubble-fields of Autumn

I saw you, my sweetheart.

Nice were your feet in shoes

And wonderful your nimble gait.

Your hair the color of roses

And your ringlets tightly plaited

Alas that we're not married

Or on board ship sailing away



The boys around here are

Laughing and getting bold

And the people of the high straw?

Are making ?? of my brown girl

If the King of Spain would

Go abroad with his assembled men

I would flatten grass and rank grass

And I would be with my brown girl



Buying cows at the fair

If I were ? and my brown girl

Go and come first love

Until we go over to Gaoth-Bearra

Until we separate from each other

The tops of the branches and the swan

from the waves ?

That won't separate us

And it's only folly for you to put it ??



I wrote a letter

To my sweetheart and a sharp complaint

She sent it back to me

That her heart was inside me.

Compose the artsswannoble person ?

Finer than silk or bird feathers

Heavy is my sigh

When I think of being apart from her.



What I heard on Sunday

As conversation among the women

That she was going to be married

To a young man from the place.

Sweetheart take my advice

And this Autumn stay as you are

And don't tell anyone, my love,

That you are my love.