An Paistin Fionn (The Fair Haired Youth)
Gra mo chroi mo phaistin fionn
A croi 's a haigne ag gaire liom
A ciocha geala mar bhlath na n-ull
Is a piob' mar eala la Marta
Curfa:
It tusa mo run, mo run, mo run
Is tusa mo run is mo ghra geal
It tusa mo run, 's mo chumann go buan
'S e mo chreach gan tu agam o d' mhaithrin
Cara mo chroi mo phaistin fionn
A dha gru' ar lasadh mar bhlath na gcrann
Ta mise saor ar mo phaistin fionn
Ach amhain nuair a olaim a slainte
Da mbeinnse sa bhaile 'mbionn sugradh is greann
No idir dha bhairille lan de leann
Mo shiuirin i m'aice 's mo lamh faoin a ceann
Is sugach a d'olfainn a slainte.
Bhi me naoi n-oiche i m' lui go bocht,
O bheith sinte faoin dile 's me 'dir dha thor,
A chumann mo chroi, 's me ag smaoineamh ort
Is ni bhfaighinnse la fead na le glao thu
O, treigfead mo mhuintir 's mo chairde gaoil
Agus treigfead a maireann de mhna an tsaoil
Ni threigfead le m' mharthain* thu, 'ghra mo chroi,
No go sinfear i gconra faoi chlar me!
*le e bheo, fad a mhairfidh me
The Fair Haired Youth - An Paistin Fionn
Love of my heart my fair haired youth
his heart and joyousness laughing with me
His white breast is as the flowers of the apple
and his neck is like that of a Swan
Curfa:
You are my dear, my dear, my dear
you are my dear and my dearest one
You are my dear and my enduring companion