[postlink]http://dagendauwsnotenbalk.blogspot.com/2013/08/mna-na-heireann-sinead-o-connor.html[/postlink]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tt8p5AxJn18endofvid [starttext]
Eentje voor het slapen gaan... en om morgen gezond weer op te staan.
Mná na hÉireann
Ta bean in Eirinn a phronnfadh sead damh is mo shaith le n-o
'S ta beann in Erinn is sa binne leithe mo rafla ceoil no seinm thead
Ata bean in Eirinn is niorbh fhearr le beo
Mise ag leimnigh no leagtha ! gcre is mo tharr faoi fhod
Ta bean in Eirinn a bheadh ag ead, liom mur bhfaighinn ach pog
0 bihean ar aonach, nach ait an sceala, is mo dhaimh fein leo
Ta bean ab fhearr lom no cath is cead dhiobh nach bhfagham go de
Is ta cailin speiruil ag fear gan bhearla, dubghranna croin
Ta bean a dearfaidh da siulainn leithe go bhfaighinn an t-or
Is ta bean 'na leine is fearr a mein no na tainte bo
Le bean a bhuairfeadh baile an mhaoir agus clar thin eoghaln
Is ni fhaicim leigheas ar mo ghalar fein ach scaird a dh'ol
The woman of Ireland
There's a woman in Ireland
would give me a jewel and my fill to drink
There's a woman in Ireland
for whom my voice is more sweet
than the sound of harps and strings
There's a woman in Ireland
would love me more alive,
roguery on my tongue,
than cold and deathless, my body below the ground
There's a woman in Ireland
would rage with envy if I stole a kiss
from a woman tinker at the fair in Tubber
and she with warts on her face
And strange it is: this love I bear them
and a hundred more who I'll never win
while a swarthy man with no Irish weds a queen
There's a woman in Ireland
says if I walked with her I'd inherit the wind
and a woman in Ireland
tall, grave of manner, silent as a stone
And the woman who would deafen Ballymore
and the plain of Tyrone
and I see no cure for my affliction
but to drink no more
[endtext]
Eentje voor het slapen gaan... en om morgen gezond weer op te staan.
Mná na hÉireann
Ta bean in Eirinn a phronnfadh sead damh is mo shaith le n-o
'S ta beann in Erinn is sa binne leithe mo rafla ceoil no seinm thead
Ata bean in Eirinn is niorbh fhearr le beo
Mise ag leimnigh no leagtha ! gcre is mo tharr faoi fhod
Ta bean in Eirinn a bheadh ag ead, liom mur bhfaighinn ach pog
0 bihean ar aonach, nach ait an sceala, is mo dhaimh fein leo
Ta bean ab fhearr lom no cath is cead dhiobh nach bhfagham go de
Is ta cailin speiruil ag fear gan bhearla, dubghranna croin
Ta bean a dearfaidh da siulainn leithe go bhfaighinn an t-or
Is ta bean 'na leine is fearr a mein no na tainte bo
Le bean a bhuairfeadh baile an mhaoir agus clar thin eoghaln
Is ni fhaicim leigheas ar mo ghalar fein ach scaird a dh'ol
The woman of Ireland
There's a woman in Ireland
would give me a jewel and my fill to drink
There's a woman in Ireland
for whom my voice is more sweet
than the sound of harps and strings
There's a woman in Ireland
would love me more alive,
roguery on my tongue,
than cold and deathless, my body below the ground
There's a woman in Ireland
would rage with envy if I stole a kiss
from a woman tinker at the fair in Tubber
and she with warts on her face
And strange it is: this love I bear them
and a hundred more who I'll never win
while a swarthy man with no Irish weds a queen
There's a woman in Ireland
says if I walked with her I'd inherit the wind
and a woman in Ireland
tall, grave of manner, silent as a stone
And the woman who would deafen Ballymore
and the plain of Tyrone
and I see no cure for my affliction
but to drink no more
[endtext]