Dónall Óg

(Ní fios cé chum an dán seo)

 

Ní raibh i do ghrása ach mar bheadh mám den tsneachta geal,

Nó gaineamh i dtrá i lár na farraige,

Nó feochan gaoithe thar dhroim na ngarraithe,

Nó tuile thréan do bheadh tar éis lae fearthainne.

 

Your love was just but a handful of snow,

Like the sand swept away by a tidal flow,

Or just as a breeze over gardens came,

Or a heavy flood after a day of rain.

 

Dúirt mo mháithrín liom gan labhairt leat,

Aon lá den tseachtain ná Dé Domhnaigh,

Is olc an tráth ar thug sí rabhadh dom,

Is é fál ar an ngort é i ndiaidh na foghla.

 

My mother told me not to speak with you,

On Sunday or any day of the week with you,

But she was too late, like a lock on the gate,

Around the field that’s been trespassed on.

 

Is mithid dom féin an baile seo a fhágáil,

Is géar an chloch, is fuar an láib ann,

Is ann a bhfuaireas guth gan éadáil

Is focal trom ó lucht an bhéadáin.

 

It’s time for me to leave this town,

Where stone is sharp and clod is cold,

This place where I’m abused aloud

And cursed upon by a gossiping crowd

 

Fuagraim an grá is mairg a thug é,

Do mhac na mná úd ariamh nár thuig é,

Mo chroí i mo lár gur fhág sé dubh é,

Is ní fheicim ar an tsráid seo ná in áit ar bith é.

 

Woe to love and to him who bestowed it,

To the son of that woman who never has known it,

My heart that would pound as it once overflowed with

Love for that lad who’s no longer around.

 

Bhain tú thoir díom is bhain tú thiar díom,

Bhain tú an ghealach is bhain tú an ghrian díom,

Bhain tú an croí geal a bhí i mo chliabh díom,

Is is rí-mhór m’fhaitíos gur bhain tú Dia díom.

 

You have taken the east from me, taken the west from me,

You have taken the moon and you’ve taken the sun fron me,

You have taken the bright heart that beat in my breast from me.

And my greatest fear is – you’ve taken God from me.