Bunan Bui
A BhuinneĂ¡n BhuĂ is Ă© mo chrĂ¡ do luĂ
Is do chnĂ¡mha sĂnte ar leaca lom'
Is nach dtearn tĂș dĂth no dolaidh sa tĂr
Is narbh fhearr leat fĂon nĂł uisce poill.
DĂ¡ gcuirfeĂ¡ scĂ©ala fĂ¡ mo dhĂ©in
Go raibh tĂș i ngĂ©ibhinn nĂł i ndeacair iot'
Ă bhainfinnse bĂ©im ar Loch Mhic an Ăin
A fhliuchfadh do bhĂ©al is do bhrollach sĂos.
NĂ hiad bhur n-Ă©anlaith atĂ¡ mĂ© ag Ă©agaoin
An chuach, an traona nĂ¡ an chorr-bhreac
Ach an BuinneĂ¡n BuĂ, a bhĂ lĂ¡n de chroĂ
Is gur cosĂșil liom fĂ©in Ă© i snua is i ndreach.
BhĂodh sĂ© ag sĂorĂłl na dĂ
Is deir daoine go mbĂm ar an nĂłs sin seal
Is nĂl braon dĂ¡ bhfuighinn nach ligfinn sĂos
Ar fhaitĂos go bhfuighinn fĂ©in bĂ¡s den tart!
Is Ă© 'd'iarr mo stĂłr orm ligint den Ăłl
NĂł nach mbeinnse beo ach seal beag gearr:
Is Ă© dĂșirt mĂ© lĂ©i gur chan sĂ an bhrĂ©ag
NĂł go mb'fhaide do mo shaol an braon seo a fhĂ¡il.
Nach bhfeiceann tĂș Ă©an an phĂobĂ¡in rĂ©idh
Go dteachaidh sĂ in Ă©ag den tart ar ball?
Is a dhaoine cléibh, fliuchaigà bhur mbéal
NĂł nĂ bhfuighidh sibh braon i ndiaidh bhur mbĂ¡is!
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!
Is do chnĂ¡mha sĂnte ar leaca lom'
Is nach dtearn tĂș dĂth no dolaidh sa tĂr
Is narbh fhearr leat fĂon nĂł uisce poill.
DĂ¡ gcuirfeĂ¡ scĂ©ala fĂ¡ mo dhĂ©in
Go raibh tĂș i ngĂ©ibhinn nĂł i ndeacair iot'
Ă bhainfinnse bĂ©im ar Loch Mhic an Ăin
A fhliuchfadh do bhĂ©al is do bhrollach sĂos.
NĂ hiad bhur n-Ă©anlaith atĂ¡ mĂ© ag Ă©agaoin
An chuach, an traona nĂ¡ an chorr-bhreac
Ach an BuinneĂ¡n BuĂ, a bhĂ lĂ¡n de chroĂ
Is gur cosĂșil liom fĂ©in Ă© i snua is i ndreach.
BhĂodh sĂ© ag sĂorĂłl na dĂ
Is deir daoine go mbĂm ar an nĂłs sin seal
Is nĂl braon dĂ¡ bhfuighinn nach ligfinn sĂos
Ar fhaitĂos go bhfuighinn fĂ©in bĂ¡s den tart!
Is Ă© 'd'iarr mo stĂłr orm ligint den Ăłl
NĂł nach mbeinnse beo ach seal beag gearr:
Is Ă© dĂșirt mĂ© lĂ©i gur chan sĂ an bhrĂ©ag
NĂł go mb'fhaide do mo shaol an braon seo a fhĂ¡il.
Nach bhfeiceann tĂș Ă©an an phĂobĂ¡in rĂ©idh
Go dteachaidh sĂ in Ă©ag den tart ar ball?
Is a dhaoine cléibh, fliuchaigà bhur mbéal
NĂł nĂ bhfuighidh sibh braon i ndiaidh bhur mbĂ¡is!
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!
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