A Bhuinneán BhuĂ is Ă© mo chrá do luĂ
Is do chnámha sĂnte ar leaca lom'
Is nach dtearn tĂş dĂth no dolaidh sa tĂr
Is narbh fhearr leat fĂon nĂł uisce poill.
Dá gcuirfeá scéala fá mo dhéin
Go raibh tú i ngéibhinn nó i ndeacair iot'
Ó bhainfinnse béim ar Loch Mhic an Éin
A fhliuchfadh do bhĂ©al is do bhrollach sĂos.
Nà hiad bhur n-éanlaith atá mé ag éagaoin
An chuach, an traona ná an chorr-bhreac
Ach an Buinneán BuĂ, a bhĂ lán de chroĂ
Is gur cosúil liom féin é i snua is i ndreach.
BhĂodh sĂ© ag sĂorĂłl na dĂ
Is deir daoine go mbĂm ar an nĂłs sin seal
Is nĂl braon dá bhfuighinn nach ligfinn sĂos
Ar fhaitĂos go bhfuighinn fĂ©in bás den tart!
Is Ă© 'd'iarr mo stĂłr orm ligint den Ăłl
NĂł nach mbeinnse beo ach seal beag gearr:
Is é dúirt mé léi gur chan sà an bhréag
Nó go mb'fhaide do mo shaol an braon seo a fháil.
Nach bhfeiceann tĂş Ă©an an phĂobáin rĂ©idh
Go dteachaidh sĂ in Ă©ag den tart ar ball?
Is a dhaoine cléibh, fliuchaigà bhur mbéal
Nó nà bhfuighidh sibh braon i ndiaidh bhur mbáis!
Oh Yellow Bittern, alas to see you stretched
And your bones there lying on bare flagstones
You did no harm at all in the country
And would just as prefer ditch water to wine
Had you only sent me a message
That you were in a quandry, in need of a drink
I would have broken the ice on the lake
To wet your beak and all the way down to your breast.
I'm not lamenting your ordinary birds
The cuckoo, the corncrake or the dappled heron
But the yellow bittern of the great heart
Who was just like me in many ways
He was always fond of the sup
And people say I'm fond of a drop myself
Whatever drink comes my way, it's down it goes
For fear that I might one day die of thirst!
And my darling asked me to give up the booze
Or I'd only be alive a short while more,
I told her straight out she was telling a lie
And that the drink extended my life's span.
Don't you see that bird with the smooth neck
That only a while ago perished with the thirst?
Ah, my pleasant people, wet your whistles
Because after death ye won't get a drop!
