BUAINIDH mi an earnaid,
Le earlaid a bruth,
Chur barrlait air gach ainreit,
Fad ’s is earnaid i.
Earnaid shith, earnaid shith,
Mo niarach an neach dh’ am bi,
Ni bheil ni mu iadhadh grein,
Nach bheil di-se le buaidh reidh.
Buainidh mi a chraobh urramach
Bhuain Moire mhor, Mathair chobhair an t-sluaigh,
Chur dhiom gach sgeula sguana, sgulanach,
Dim-bith, dim-baigh, dim-buaidh,
Fuailisg, guailisg, duailisg, doilisg,
Gun teid mi dh’ an fhuar lic fo’n talamh.
PLUCK will I the fairy wort,
With expectation from the fairy bower,
To overcome every oppression,
As long as it be fairy wort.
Fairy wort, fairy wort,
I envy the one who has thee,
There is nothing the sun encircles,
But is to her a sure victory.
Pluck will I mine honoured plant
Plucked by the great Mary, helpful Mother of the people,
To cast off' me every tale of scandal and flippancy,
Ill-life, ill-love, ill-luck,
Hatred, falsity, fraud and vexation,
Till I go in the cold grave beneath the sod.