Bean an Leanna

Play recording: Bean an Leanna

Is éirigh i do shuí, a bhean a’ leanna¹, ná fan le do chaipín a ghléas,
Go bhfágha tú dhom braon uisce beatha nó cárt de do chuid leanna féin!
Ó beidh muid ag ól go dtí maidin, seo sláinte na bhfear uilig go léir.
Ach nuair a fhágfas an mháistreás an baile beidh na cailíní is deise agam féin.

Is a Dhia céard a dhéanfas mé amárach, nuair a fheicfeas mé mo ghrá ag dul aniar?
Ní fhéadfaidh mé a dhul ina láthair le méid a’s a bhí eadrainn ariamh.
Nuair a smaoiním ar a súgradh a’s ar a gáire, ar inneach a láimhín a bhí fial
Ó titim i lionn dubh le dólás agus goilim féin mórán ina diaidh.

’Gus shiúil mise bogaigh agus sléibhte, is cnoic a bhí géar as a mbarr
’S a lán bealaí eile nach ndéarfad — ní raibh únsa ar bith céille i mo cheann.
Ag cuartú mo chailín deas aerach nach sínfead mo thaobh léi go brách
Gur chóra dhi codladh taobh thuas díom ná bheith i gConga dhá uairín roimh lá.

Is fada mo chosa gan bróga, ach is fuide mo phócaí gan pingin,
Is fada mé ag siúl le mná óga ach níor shiúil mise riamh le mo mhian.
Is fada mo chónra dhá déanamh, mo thuama dhá bhreacadh ag saoir
Mo chróchar dhá tógáil lá an earraigh, is na buachaillí óga ag dul faoi.

Is bhí mé oíche a’s mé súgach, bhí mé ag triall ar tigh Mhicil sa ngleann
Bhí an strioncán de phíobaire sínte ann agus jug fuisce líonta aige ar clár.
Ó thit muid lag marbh síos ann, ní raibh preab inár gcois ná inár láimh
Ach seo beannacht shíol Éabha agus Ádhaimh daoibh — agus íocfaidh mé féin an reicneáil.

Translation

Arise, landlady, don’t delay to fuss with your cap,
And get me a drop of whiskey or a quart of your own ale!
We’ll be drinking until morning — here’s a health to all the fellows.
And when the mistress leaves town I shall have the prettiest girl!

Oh God, what shall I do tomorrow when I see my love heading east?
I can’t go up to her, because of all that’s passed between us.
When I think about her playfulness and her laughter, about the work of her generous hands,
I fall into black despair, and shed many tears for the loss of her.

I’ve walked bogs, hillsides and steep mountains,
And a lot of other places I can’t even tell you — I hadn’t an ounce of sense in my head.
Searching for the kind, airy girl with whom I will never lie down,
That it would be more proper for her to lie alongside me than to be in Cong two hours before day.

My feet have long been shoeless, but even longer that my pockets have been penniless;
I’m a long tim walking out with young women, but I’ve never walked with the one I desire.
My coffin is long in the making, and my tomb being carved out by the masons;
My bier shall be lifted on a spring day, with young men bearing it.

One night I was drunk, I was making for Micheal’s in the glen;
A piper was striking up a note, and he had a jug of whiskey on the table.
We got so drunk that we could move neither hand nor foot!
But here’s the blessing of the children of Adam and Eve upon you — and I’ll pay the reckoning myself.