An Eirinn Ni Neosainn Ce Hi
Areir 's me 'g tearnnamh ar neoin
Ar a' dtaobh eile 'en teora seo thios
Do thaobhnaigh an speirbhean im chomhair
Dfhaig taomanac, breote, lag tinn
Le haon ghean da mein is da clo
Da breithre 's da beol tanai binn
Do leimeas fe dhein dul 'na treo
Is ar Eireann ni neosainn ce hi.
A gradh ghil bi pairteach liom fhein
Is go hairithe da mbeidir liom scriobh
Beinn ag gaire le ban-chnois na gcraobh
Da bhfaighinn airithe o eine ce hi
Nil a cairde ro-shasta liom fhein
Cun arus a dheanamh na tias
Ach ma tha si d'reir raite mo bheal
Ni nair dom a leamh duit ce hi. Extra: (inc. translation) FOR IRELAND I'D NOT TELL HER NAME Ar éirinn Ní n-Eósainn Cé h-í
Aréir is mé téarnamh um' neoin
Ar an dtaobh thall den teóra 'na mbím,
Do théarnaig an spéir-bhean im' chómhair
D'fhág taomanach breóite lag sinn.
Do ghéilleas dá méin is dá cló,
Dá béal tanaí beó mhilis binn,
Do léimeas fé dhéin dul 'na cómhair,
Is ar éirinn ní n-eósainn cé h-í. Last night as I strolled abroad
On the far side of my farm
I was approached by a comely maiden
Who left me[? 'sinn' = 'us'] distraught and weak.
I was captivated by her demeanour and shapeliness
By her sensitive and delicate mouth,
I hastened to approach her
But for Ireland I'd not tell her name. Dá ngéilleadh an spéir-bhean dom' ghlór,
Siad ráidhte mo bheól a bheadh fíor;
Go deimhin duit go ndéanfainn a gnó
Do léirchur i gcóir is i gcrich.
Dó léighfinn go léir stair dom' stór,
'S ba mhéinn liom í thógaint dom chroí,
'S do bhearfainn an chraobh dhi ina dóid,
Is ar éirinn ní n-eósainn cé h-í. If only this maiden heeded my words,
What I'd tell her would be true.
Indeed I'd devote myself to her
And see to her welfare.
I would regale her with my story
And I longed to take her to my heart
Where I'd grant her pride of place
But for Ireland I'd not tell her name. Tá spéir-bhruinneal mhaordha dheas óg
Ar an taobh thall de'n teóra 'na mbím.
Tá féile 'gus daonnacht is meóin
Is deise ró mhór ins an mhnaoi,
Tá folt lei a' tuitim go feóir,
Go cocánach ómarach buí.
Tá lasadh 'na leacain mar rós,
Is ar éirinn ní n-eósainn cé h-í. There is a beautiful young maiden
On the far side of my farm
Generosity and kindness shine in her face
With the exceeding beauty of her countenance.
Her hair reaches to the ground
Sparkling like yellow gold;
Her cheeks blush like the rose
But for Ireland I'd not tell her name. Verses and translation as given in Mary O'Hara A Song for Ireland. Her
notes:
"The melody of this song has travelled far. Clondillon relates hearing a
Roumanian folk singer sing the tune believing it to be a Roumanian
folksong. Perhaps some soldier of fortune belonging to the Wild Geese had
the gift of song!"
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