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Chan eil sa' Roinn-Eorpa an oigh a bheireadh ort barr,
'S cha do sheas ann am broig te og nas ceanalta gnaths;
Cha do ghluais ann an gun, a ruin an tall nam bal
Te eile thig suas ri tuar do mhaise-s' a ghraidh.
Mar ghealach nan speur cur reul am falach le gloir
Mur ghathan na grein' cur reul na maidne fo sgleo,
mar shruthan ron fhiadh's gun deur sa gleannan ri ol,
Tha thusa dhomh, ghraidh-'s cha nar leam aithris rim bheo.
When I am alone I think of you all the time,
Your lovely gentle face touched my heart in my breast;
Your beauty, my love, inspired my poem to you,
I'd rather your kiss than the wourld's gold in my hand.
May God bless the breast that suckled you young,
The mother that noourished and controlled your life as a babe;
My blessing on the knee that held you, my love
and nursed you young, a joy for her as you grew.
I could recognise from afar your flawless person,
As pretty as aperfect, wholesome, new picture;
Love and kindness swim in the look of your eyes,
Your breath as honey mist under the dew.
No wonder my love your mother and father are so proud,
Rare for a parent to have one such as you;
Even if I had more skill at muse and poetry,
I could never weave all your beauty into verse.
There is no maid in Europe who could surpass you-
A more graceful young girl never stood in shoe;
There never moved in a gown in the ballroom, my dear,
Any other who could match your beauty, my love.
As the moon in the skies eclipsing the stars in its glory,
As the rays of the sun hiding the morning star,
As a stream for the deer when the glen was dry,
You are to me, my love-I'll not be ashamed to tell while I live.
line breaks added by mudelf ;-)