Hug on her, hug on ir-u
On his strong and durable stick
I will go for a visit to India
And from there to the land of her knowledge
South-west wind off the land
And she will ask you to come to me
I put on her thigh Canidh
—S beat I’n gallion to Maol Domhnáich
South-west wind off the pool
The sea is rising and its current is in the mist
—She is not asked to return
But a lads to be willing
When she was sent a riffle
Part of a canvas to be disobeyed
Bâ門逃to cut a sinteg
Go to Tir McNeill on a wedding
br/>They called you Cuilthionn
Mountains as big as Scotland
Canvas would send you away
Although that is a strange story

SOUMETTRE LES CORRECTIONS