relayed from Ciarili

BÁDAÍ NA SCADÁN

Foireann a' bháid a b'fhearr a d'fhág Inis Fraoigh
'S iad a' tarraingt san áit a raibh bádaí na scadán 'na luí
Ar boilg gur fágadh 'sgan tárrtháil orthu faraor
'S mo bhuachaillín bán deas a sheinnfeadh an fhidil 'sa' phíob

Is measa liom Eoghan na scór de fhearaibh an tsaoil
Is é a chuirfeadh ar bord is nach mór a lagaigh sé an tír
Tá Macán bocht buartha, Nóra bheag is a níon
Is dár liom ar ndóigh go bhfuil dólás mór fada ar a mhnaoi

A Fheargail, a dheartháir, má tá tú i bhFlaitheas na Naomh
Iarr furtacht ar an Ard-Rí lena bhfáil ins an chladach seo thíos
Mura bhfaighfí ach a gcnámha da mbíodh ar na leaca ag n-a thaobh
Bheadh a athair bocht sásta agus áthrach mór fada ar a shaol

Níor mhaith liom do shúil riú bheith brúite tuirseach i ngreann
Is do chorpán geal úr a bheith ag súgradh ar bharra na dtonn
Na maidí bhí fút a' lúbadh tharat anall
Bhí do lámh ar an stiúir is tú a' dúil le bheith i bhFlaitheas gan mhoill

Dá bhfeicfeá Eoghan Mór is é ag cuartú cladach is poll
Ag iarraidh tuairisc na mbuachall a fuadú amach ar an toinn
Shiúil sé na cuantaí ach níor dhual dó a leitheid a fháil ann
Ach go bhfuarthas a dtuairisc thuas ar an Iomaire Cham

TRANSLATION
The crew of the best boat that left Inis Fraoigh
Making their way to the place where the herring boats were at anchor
On a submerged rock they ended up and they were not rescued, alas
And my nice fair-haired boy who would play the fiddle and the pipe

I have more regard for Eoghan than a score of the men of this world
It is he who could provide and his death has greatly saddened the land
Poor Macan is sad and so is wee Nora and their daughter
And I feel certain that his wife's sorrow will last for a very long time

Feargal, my friend, if you are in Heaven of the Saints,
Ask the High King for help for them to be found on the shore here below
If their bones were found – were it only on the rocks by his father's side
That wretched man would be satisfied and his life would be greatly changed

I wouldn't like your eye, alas! to be afflicted and lost to joy
Or your youthful white body to be tossed about on the top of the waves
The oars that you plied you used to bend away back past you
Your hand was on the helm and you were expecting to be in heaven soon

If you saw Big Eoghan as he searched shores and holes
Looking for a sign of the boys who were stolen away out on the wave
He sought out the harbours but he was not likely to find the like there
Till news of them was got down at An Iomaire Cam (the Crooked Ridge)