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A BhuinneГЎn BhuГ­ is Г© mo chrГЎ do luГ­
Is do chnГЎmha sГ­nte ar leaca lom`
Is nach dtearn tГє dГ­th no dolaidh sa tГ­r
Is narbh fhearr leat fГ­on nГі uisce poill.
DГЎ gcuirfeГЎ scГ©ala fГЎ mo dhГ©in
Go raibh tГє i ngГ©ibhinn nГі i ndeacair iot`
Г“ bhainfinnse bГ©im ar Loch Mhic an Г‰in
A fhliuchfadh do bhГ©al is do bhrollach sГ­os.

NГ­ hiad bhur n-Г©anlaith atГЎ mГ© ag Г©agaoin
An chuach, an traona nГЎ an chorr-bhreac
Ach an BuinneГЎn BuГ­, a bhГ­ lГЎn de chroГ­
Is gur cosГєil liom fГ©in Г© i snua is i ndreach.
BhГ­odh sГ© ag sГ­orГіl na dГ­
Is deir daoine go mbГ­m ar an nГіs sin seal
Is nГ­l braon dГЎ bhfuighinn nach ligfinn sГ­os
Ar fhaitГ­os go bhfuighinn fГ©in bГЎs den tart!

Is Г© `d`iarr mo stГіr orm ligint den Гіl
NГі nach mbeinnse beo ach seal beag gearr:
Is Г© dГєirt mГ© lГ©i gur chan sГ­ an bhrГ©ag
NГі go mb`fhaide do mo shaol an braon seo a fhГЎil.
Nach bhfeiceann tГє Г©an an phГ­obГЎin rГ©idh
Go dteachaidh sГ­ in Г©ag den tart ar ball?
Is a dhaoine clГ©ibh, fliuchaigГ­ bhur mbГ©al
NГі nГ­ bhfuighidh sibh braon i ndiaidh bhur mbГЎis!
Oh Yellow Bittern, alas to see you stretched
And your bones there lying on bare flagstones
You did no harm at all in the country
And would just as prefer ditch water to wine
Had you only sent me a message
That you were in a quandry, in need of a drink
I would have broken the ice on the lake
To wet your beak and all the way down to your breast.

I`m not lamenting your ordinary birds
The cuckoo, the corncrake or the dappled heron
But the yellow bittern of the great heart
Who was just like me in many ways
He was always fond of the sup
And people say I`m fond of a drop myself
Whatever drink comes my way, it`s down it goes
For fear that I might one day die of thirst!

And my darling asked me to give up the booze
Or I`d only be alive a short while more,
I told her straight out she was telling a lie
And that the drink extended my life`s span.
Don`t you see that bird with the smooth neck
That only a while ago perished with the thirst?
Ah, my pleasant people, wet your whistles
Because after death ye won`t get a drop!

A BhuinneГЎn BhuГ­ is Г© mo chrГЎ do luГ­
Is do chnГЎmha sГ­nte ar leaca lom`
Is nach dtearn tГє dГ­th no dolaidh sa tГ­r
Is narbh fhearr leat fГ­on nГі uisce poill.
DГЎ gcuirfeГЎ scГ©ala fГЎ mo dhГ©in
Go raibh tГє i ngГ©ibhinn nГі i ndeacair iot`
Г“ bhainfinnse bГ©im ar Loch Mhic an Г‰in
A fhliuchfadh do bhГ©al is do bhrollach sГ­os.

NГ­ hiad bhur n-Г©anlaith atГЎ mГ© ag Г©agaoin
An chuach, an traona nГЎ an chorr-bhreac
Ach an BuinneГЎn BuГ­, a bhГ­ lГЎn de chroГ­
Is gur cosГєil liom fГ©in Г© i snua is i ndreach.
BhГ­odh sГ© ag sГ­orГіl na dГ­
Is deir daoine go mbГ­m ar an nГіs sin seal
Is nГ­l braon dГЎ bhfuighinn nach ligfinn sГ­os
Ar fhaitГ­os go bhfuighinn fГ©in bГЎs den tart!

Is Г© `d`iarr mo stГіr orm ligint den Гіl
NГі nach mbeinnse beo ach seal beag gearr:
Is Г© dГєirt mГ© lГ©i gur chan sГ­ an bhrГ©ag
NГі go mb`fhaide do mo shaol an braon seo a fhГЎil.
Nach bhfeiceann tГє Г©an an phГ­obГЎin rГ©idh
Go dteachaidh sГ­ in Г©ag den tart ar ball?
Is a dhaoine clГ©ibh, fliuchaigГ­ bhur mbГ©al
NГі nГ­ bhfuighidh sibh braon i ndiaidh bhur mbГЎis!
Oh Yellow Bittern, alas to see you stretched
And your bones there lying on bare flagstones
You did no harm at all in the country
And would just as prefer ditch water to wine
Had you only sent me a message
That you were in a quandry, in need of a drink
I would have broken the ice on the lake
To wet your beak and all the way down to your breast.

I`m not lamenting your ordinary birds
The cuckoo, the corncrake or the dappled heron
But the yellow bittern of the great heart
Who was just like me in many ways
He was always fond of the sup
And people say I`m fond of a drop myself
Whatever drink comes my way, it`s down it goes
For fear that I might one day die of thirst!

And my darling asked me to give up the booze
Or I`d only be alive a short while more,
I told her straight out she was telling a lie
And that the drink extended my life`s span.
Don`t you see that bird with the smooth neck
That only a while ago perished with the thirst?
Ah, my pleasant people, wet your whistles
Because after death ye won`t get a drop!

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