Príosún Chluain Meala
Údar anaithnid
Ó, bliain 's lá amárach
'sea d'fhágas an baile
ag dul go hArd Pádraig
'cur lásái lem hata:
bhí Buachaillí Bána ann
is rás acu ar eallaigh--
is mé go dubhlach uaigneach
i bpríosún Chluain Meala.
Tá mo shrian is mo dhiallait,
ar iasacht le fada;
mo chamán ar fiaradh
faoi iarthar mo leapa,
mo liathróid á bualadh
ag buachailli an ghleanna--
is go mbuailfinn poc báire
chomh hard leis na fearaibh!
A Chiarraigh bídh ag guí liom,
is bog binn liom bhur nglórtha,
is beag a sileas-sa choiche
ná billfinnse beo oraibh--
's go mbeidh ár dtrí cinn-ne
ar thrí spící mar sheó acu,
faoi shneachta na hoíche
is gach síon eile 'á ngeobhaidh chughainn.
Go hUibh Ráthach má théann tú.
beir scéala go dtí mo mhuintir
go bhfuilim daor ar an bhfód seo
is nach bhfuil beo agam ach go hAoine,
Bailídh gléas tórraimh
agus cónra bhreá im thijpeall--
sin críoch ar ó Dónaill
is go deo deo bídh ag guí leis.
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The Jail of Clonmel
Author Unknown
O, it's one year tomorrow
my home I deserted
and went to Ard Pádraig
my hat done in laces.
The Whiteboys were there
tormenting the cattle
---now I'm grieving and lonely
in the jail of Clonmel.
My bridle and saddle
are loaned out a long time,
my hurley is slanted
in under my bed,
my ball hit about
by the boys of the valley
--I who'd hit a goal-puck
as high as the next!
Kerrymen, pray for me.
I love your soft voices,
nor thought I would never
return to you living.
But our three heads will soon
be on spikes for a show
in the snows of the night
and all weathers that come.
If you go to Uibh ráthach
take the news to my people
I'm condemned on this sod
and won't live beyond Friday.
Get the things for my wake
and a fine coffin round me
--here's an end of Ó Dónaill
and pray for him always.
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