I have no idea what the Gaelic words on the top mean, but I pulled this off the Internet somewhere several months ago when I was looking for an English interpretation of Mo Ghile Mear.

Domhnach 28 Eanair, scriobh Conchubar :

cé hiad na focal le
"Mo Ghile Mear" Ní bréag a rá nach feidir liom focal ar bith as
béal Sting a thiscínt nuair a bhí seisean ag seinm leis na Flaithí.

[GE]
Amhrán Seacaibíteach ar ndóigh atá san amhrán seo ina samhlaítear
an t/ir mar bhean ag caoineadh a grá, an Stíobhartach Séarlas Óg.
Seán Clárach Mac Domhnaill a chum é. Tá leagan níos iomláine ar
fáil i Filíocht na nGael, eag. P. Ó Canainn, 1940.
[BE]
This is a Jacobite song in which Ireland is depicted as a woman
lamenting her love, Prince Charles Stuart (Bonnie Prince Charlie) who is
far away. There is a more complete version in Filíocht na nGael, ed. P
Ó Canainn, 1940. Written by Seán Clárach Mac Domhnaill.

[GE]
Seo iad na focail ar an amhrán céanna mar a deir Pádraigín Ní
Uallacháin é ar an gcaiséad A Stór is a Stóirín :

Seal go rabhas im' mhaighdean shéimh
Anois im' bhaintreach chaite thréith
Mo chéile a' treabhadh na dtonn go tréan
De bharr na gcnoc 's in imigéin.

Curfá :
'Sé mo laoch mo ghile mear
'Sé mo Shaesar gile mear
Suan ná séan ní bhfuaireas féin
Ó luadh i gcéin mo ghile mear.

Bímse buan ar buairt gach ló
Ag caoi go crua 's ag tuar na ndeor
Ó scaoileadh uainn an buachaill beo
'S ná ríomhtar tuairisc uaidh mo bhrón.

Curfá

Ní haoibhinn cuach ba shuairc ar neoin
Táid fíorchaoin uaisle ar uathadh sp/oirt
Táid saoithe is suadha i mbuairt 's i mbrón
Ó d'imigh uainn an buachaill beo.

Curfá

[BE]
And for the learners :
Once I was a gentle maiden
Now I'm a feeble worn widow
My spouse boldly ploughing the waves
Over the hills and far away.

Refrain :
He is my hero my Gile Mear
He is my Caesar my Gile Mear
Sleep or happiness I have not
Since my Gile Mear has gone away.

I am in grief each day
Crying lamentable and weeping sore
Since my lively boy was sent away
And sadly no word of him is known.

Refrain

There is no pleasure in the sweetest midday cuckoo
The finest of the nobility have little sport
The poets and scholars are troubled and in sorrow
Since my lively boy has left me.

Refrain

HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 5-Jun-02.