Cóilín ∙ádraig »éamais

Since you were born ’tis sad to say,

Ó saolaío« ÷ú is mairg a rá,

That the ship was over-there in store for-you —

Go rai¢ an long anonn i ndán duit —

It was before-you constantly that there’d be a day,

¡í sé roµat de ¿íor go mbeifeá lá,

Among the emigrants.

I measc na n‑imirceána¥.

Home has no living for you,

Níl mairea¥táil ag baile «uit,

You yourself are not a knocker

Ní ÷usa féin is cáinte

But the people that you leave behind idle,

A¥ an dream a d'±ág tú ÷iar díoµaoin,

Tearing with the scarcity.

Ag straca« leis an nganntan.

Chorus:

Curfá:

A ship is going across today

Tà long ag dul anonn inniu,

Cóilín Phádraig Shéamais,

A Chóilin ∙àdraic Shéamais,

And off with-you across over-seas,

Agus imi³ leat ÷ar sàile anonn,

So you get value for your labour.

Mar a ¢fai³i« tù lua¥ do ¿ao÷air.

Slaving away and raking in dust

Ag sclá¢aío¥t is ag sluaisteáil cré,

From the rising till the setting of the sun,

Ó éiri go luí na gréine,

That you’d be over in the land of the foreigner,

A ¢eas tú ÷all i dtír na nGall,

Cóilín Phádraig Shéamais.

A Chóilin ∙àdraic »éamais.

’Tis many a fine, sunny day,

Is iomaí lá breá gréine,

That you spent a little worried,

A ¥ai÷ tú ar ¢eagán buar÷a,

Hunting among the green hills,

Ag fia¥ i measc na gcnocán glas,

Or fishing in the harbours.

Nó ag iascairea¥t sna cuanta.

You were a hero in the corracle,

As you’d overcome the gale,

The creaking of oars.

Gíoscán na maidí ráµa.

(Chorus)

(Curfá)

You’ll never see again,

Your friends, nor your relations,

Do ¥áirde, ná do ³aolta,

And you’ll never again break up,

The turf on the mountain-side.

Farewell to the shore, and to the mountain,

Fág slán ag clada¥, is ag slia¢,

Farewell to Conamara;

So you’ll never ever return,

To your land or your home.

Ar do ÷ír ná ar do ¢aile.

(Chorus)

(Curfá)

Literal translation by Noel Leggett