A ógánaigh an chúil chraobhaigh
(O young man of the flowing hair)

Irish

A ógánaigh an chúil chraobhaigh, cad é an taobh ar [a] go mbionn tú,
Nó an bhfuileann tú gan chéile, nó an it aonar a luíonn tú?
Ó táimse gan chéile agus im aonar sea luímse,
Cé hé sin dá fhiafraí, nó an éinne beo ‘n tír í?

‘N amhl’ ná n-aithníonn tú mé fhéinig, céadsearc do chroí-se,
‘S gur mé do chailín ciúin craobhach a bhíodh taobh leat san oíche.
Ní aithnímse tú fhéinig agus níl aon phioc ded ghnaoi ann,
Mar sin do mhill cré mé, gath gréine ‘gus gaoithe.

Nuair is dóigh le mo mhuintir go mbím ar mo leabaidh,
Ar do thuama sea bhímse ó oíche go maidean.
A’ cur mo chás síos leat agus a’ síorghol, mo mhairg,
I ndiaidh mo chailín ciúin stuama a luadh liom ‘na leanbh.

Bionn mo mhuintir á plé liom, bráithre ‘gus sagairt,
I dtaobh mé bheith i ngrá leat, a Mháire ‘s tú marbh.
Ba scáth ar an síon thú agus ba dhíon thú ar fhearthainn,
Mo ghrian an lae gheimhridh, ‘s tú thíos ins an talamh.
O young man of the flowing hair, where can you be found?
Are you without company, do you sleep alone?
For I am solitary and lie alone,
Who is there I can ask for, anyone in the world?

I doubt you would recognise me, the first love of your heart,
But I am your quiet, steadfast girl who was your comfort at night.
I don't recognise you for there's nothing of beauty left,
That's how the clay destroys me, as the darts of the sun and wind.

When my people think that I am on my bed,
I am on your grave from night till morning.
Willing myself to be with you and eternally weeping, my grief,
Because of my silent strong girl who pledged to me as a child.

My people are always on at me as well as the brothers and priests,
About me being in love with you Mary and you dead.
You were my shelter from the storm and my shield from the rain
My sun on a winter's day and you're beneath the ground.