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SIAN a chuir Moire nam buadh,
Moch is anamoch dol dachaidh is uath,
Buachaille Padruig, is banachaig Bride,
D’ ur sion, d’ ur dion, ’s d’ ur comhnadh.
Ho hi holigan, ho m’ aighean,
Ho hi holigan, ho m’ aighean,
Ho hi holigan, ho m’ aighean,
Mo chrodh-laoigh air gach taobh an abhuinn.
Bith buarach chioba air m’ aighean siocha,
Bith buarach shioda air m’ aighean laoigh,
Bith buarach shugain air crodh na duthcha,
Ach buarach ur air m’ aighean gaoil.
Ho hi holigan, ho m’ aighean.
Fhaic thu bho ud air an lianu,
’S a laogh mear aic air a bialu,
Dean, a chaomhag, mar a rinn i chianu,
Thoir am bainne, a laoigh na Fiannaich.
Ho hi holigan, ho m’ aighean. |
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THE charm placed of Mary of light,
Early and late going to and from home,
The herdsman Patrick and the milkmaid Bride,
Be saining you and saving you and shielding you.
Ho hi holigan, ho my heifer,
Ho hi holigan, ho my heifer,
Ho hi holigan, ho my heifer,
My calving kine on each side of the river.
A shackle of lint on my elfish heifer,
A shackle of silk on my heifer of calves,
A shackle of straw on the cows of the townland,
But a brand new shackle on my heifer beloved.
Ho hi holigan, ho my heifer.
Seest thou that cow on the plain,
With her frisky calf before her,
Do, thou lovable one, as she did erstwhile,
Give thou thy milk, O calf of 'Fiannach.'
Ho hi holigan, ho my heifer. |