An Buinnean Bui that ne'er broke out on a drinking-bout Might as well have drunk For his bones are thrown on the naked stone Where he lived all alone like the hermit An Buinnean Bui, I pity your lot Thou they say that a sot like myself was cursed I was sober awhile, But I'll drink and be wise For I fear I might die before my time
And its not for the common bird that I mourn The blackbird or the crake or the crane But for the Buinnean Bui who is shy and apart And to drinks in the mire from the lone bog-drain If I had known you were nearing your death While my breath held out I'd have run to you With a splash from the Lake or a drink from the mire But I fear I might die before my time