These are the verses that Liam O Maonlai sings, they are 1, 2 & 13 from a total of thirty-three.
The poem came to me courtesy of the British Library (much appreciated) and the translation is from
Paddy Moloney, lacking a line in the last verse.


Na Fataí Bána/White Potatoes


Mo mhíle slán do na fataí bána,
Ba subhach an áit a bheith in aice leo,
Ba fáilí soineannta iad ag tíocht chun láithreach,
Agus iad ag gáirí linn ar cheann an bhoird.

Ba chabhair don bhanaltra iad, don fhear is don gharlach,
Don lag is don láidir, don óg is don chríon,
Ach fáth mo dhocharna is ábhar m'angair,
Gur lobh na preátaí gan sioc ná síon.
 
Céard a cheannós bráithlín don fhear a sinfear
Tobac ná píopaí ná cónra chláir
Ach Ard Rí Fhlaithúnais le cabhair is slí 'gainn
Agus ar ndóigh b'aoibhinn dhúinn dhá bhfaigheadh muid bás.

A thousand farewells to the white potatoes
For as long as we had them, a pleasant hoard
Affable innocent, coming into our company
As they laughed us at the head of the board.

They were help to the nurse, to the man and the child,
To the weak and the strong, to the young and the old
But the cause of my sorrow, my grief, my affliction
Them rotting away, without frost, without cold.

What will buy a shroud for those to be buried?
Tobacco, pipes or a coffin of wood?
And, of course, it would be a release if we could.