Here is the translation in Amhrain Mhuighe Seola. The traslation departs somewhat from the Irish language version. I could add that as well if you're interested:

A PITY I'M NOT IN ENGLAND

I would I were in England
I Spain or merry France,
Or in the West on Indian shores,
To meet my white love's glance.

O Maure! of the plaited locks
If you were here with me,
Sure, 'tis myself would woo you, love,
Till morning came to see.

I lay me on my bed of pain,
I lay me not to rest,
My heart it is a bleeding heart,
A wound is in my breast.

The leeches of the world all
Would pity my sad plight;
There's no lance to probe my wounds
Save May's glance of light.

'Tis long I have been roving
In country and in town,
But never in my wanderings met
A maid of such renown;

Until I saw my white love
On the slopes of Knock-na-shee
Her tresses in the fairy wind
A streaming wild and free.

My true love she did promise me
Two thousand ambling kine,
And on here amblind pasture-lands
To rear a mansion fine.

I swear me by the midnight moon,
And by the noonday sun,
I'd leave the seas behind me
Ere another year is done.

O I would you were in England,
And I in sunny Spain,
That I might rise and speed me thence,
To woo my love again.

Brían