Táim Cortha ó Bheith im’ Aonar i mo Luí

Trad. Arr. Eithne Ní Uallacháin

‘Táim cortha ó bheith im’aonar i mo luí’ (3)

Trathnóinín déanach ’s mé dul a’ bhalcéireacht
’Sea do dhearcas an spéirbhean a’ caoi
D’fhiosraíos féin di gur labhair sí a scéal liom
‘Táim cortha ó bheith im’aonar i mo luí’.

One evening of late as I carelessly strayed,
I spied a fair maid in deep mourn.
I asked her the matter, she quickly made answer
‘I am weary of lying alone, alone’.

’S a mhuirnín donn dílis suigh anseo taobh liom
Agus aithris dom scéal ar d’shaol.
Mar a cúig a’s a sé is ní shásóidh sin mé
Mar táim cortha ó bheith im’aonar i mo luí.

My comely young damsel, come down here ’longside me
And tell me of the years that have flown.
For seven gone long and seven along
I am weary from lying alone, alone.

Tá róisín breá néata sa ghairdín seo taobh linne
’Sé a bhainim a’s déanam é ’fhí
Mar is róghearr ina dhiaidh sin go mbeadh sé róthraochta
Leis an naí a bheadh na haonar ’na luí, ’na luí
Leis an naí a bheadh na haonar ’na luí.

There’s a neat sweet li’l flower in the garden alongside us
Take it away,’tis your own
For the flower, it will fade, and so also the maid
Though she’s weary from being alone, alone
Though she’s weary from being alone.

Curfá

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