Buachaill On Eirne Lyrics – The Corrs
Singer: The Corrs
Title: Buachaill On Eirne
Buachaill n irne m ‘s bhragfainn cailn deas g
N iarrfainn b spr li t m fhin saibhir go leor
‘S liom Corcaigh da mhid , dh thaobh
A’ ghleanna ‘s Tr Eoghain
‘S mura n-athra m basa ‘s m n’ t-oidhr’
Ar Chontae Mhaigh Eo
Rachaidh m ‘mrach ag dhanamh leanna fn choill
Gan choite gan bd gan grinnn brach’ ar bith liom
Ach duillir na gcraobh mar adaigh leapa os mo chionn
‘S r sheacht m’anam dag th ‘s t ‘fachaint orm anall
Buachailleacht b, mo leo, nr chleacht mise ariamh
Ach ag imirt ‘s ag l le h’gmhn deasa an tsliabh
M chaill m mo str n moide gur chaill m mo chiall
A’s n m liom do phg n’n bhrg atim ag caitheamh le bliain
Translation
I’m a boy from Lough Erne and I could charm a nice young girl
I would not ask for her wealth as I am rich enough myself
I own a good part of Cork, two sides of the glen in Tyrone
And not to repeat myself I’m the heir of County Mayo
I will go tomorrow to make ale in the wood
Without a cot without a boat without a pinch of gruel with me
But leaves of the branches as bedclothes over my head
And think well done for you as you watch me from over there
A cowherd, my pet, I’ve never been accustomed to be
Instead of playing and drinking with the nice young women
On the mountain side
If I lost my riches I probably didn’t lose my senses
And your kiss is no more to me now than a shoe worn for a year
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Buachaill On Eirne – English Translation
The herds of the herds my m and salt of Caodn South G
N sofins b er li t my fan salt fan gun ghu fer
And led gran lugs a mid
The glen and three
And unless the noun m was the fan
Our MACS cottage EO
Myth Mach’s Raindear Do Leven Beens
Columbus them cud crises boredom
But a leafleated the victims of as a beep Adam above me
Rate M’m DAG TRAG TRAG TRAG TAKE ANY
A heaven b, my lea, I anthot
But am worging and light with the editor of Telve
M lost my str n moide that m my sense lost
A s m m m m m m kn n blag n’m wear with Bristons
Translation
I’m A Boy Fraud and She Could Car Th nice Young Girl
I Would not Ask For Her Wearth I Whom Enough Myself
I Own A God Part of Cork, Two Sides of the Glen In Tyrone
And not to Repate myself in Issel I’m the heir of county mayo
I will go tomorrow to make Ale in the Wood
Without A Cot Without a Boat Without Without Pinch with Me
Butaves of the branches of bedclothes over my head
And THKE ‘THKEL YOUR SEE FOR YOU WATCH ME from OVER OVER OVER OVER OVER OVER OVER OVER THERE
A cowherd, my pet, i’ve Never ben accustomed to
Install of Playing and DRAKING with the Nice Young Women
On the Mountain Side
IF I LOST MY Richens I Probably DIn’T LEE MY SENSES
And your kiss and mare to me Now Than a nice worn for who is
Find more lyrics at lyrics.jspinyin.net
Lyrics The Corrs – Buachaill On Eirne
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