Verses and translation as given in Mary O'Hara, A Song for Ireland. Her notes:
"The melody of this song has travelled far. Clondillon relates hearing a Roumanian folk singer sing the tune believing it to be a Roumanian folksong. Perhaps some soldier of fortune belonging to the Wild Geese had the gift of song!"

 

FOR IRELAND I'D NOT TELL HER NAME

Last night as I strolled abroad

On the far side of my farm

I was approached by a comely maiden

Who left me[? 'sinn' = 'us'] distraught and weak.

I was captivated by her demeanour and shapeliness

By her sensitive and delicate mouth,

I hastened to approach her

But for Ireland I'd not tell her name.

 

If only this maiden heeded my words,

What I'd tell her would be true.

Indeed I'd devote myself to her

And see to her welfare.

I would regale her with my story

And I longed to take her to my heart

Where I'd grant her pride of place

But for Ireland I'd not tell her name.

 

There is a beautiful young maiden

On the far side of my farm

Generosity and kindness shine in her face

With the exceeding beauty of her countenance.

Her hair reaches to the ground

Sparkling like yellow gold;

Her cheeks blush like the rose

But for Ireland I'd not tell her name.

 

 Ar éirinn Ní n-Eósainn

Cé h-í Aréir is mé téarnamh um' neoin

Ar an dtaobh thall den teóra 'na mbím,

Do théarnaig an spéir-bhean im' chómhair

D'fhág taomanach breóite lag sinn.

Do ghéilleas dá méin is dá cló,

Dá béal tanaí beó mhilis binn,

Do léimeas fé dhéin dul 'na cómhair,

Is ar Éirinn ní n-eósainn cé h-í.

 

Dá ngéilleadh an spéir-bhean dom' ghlór,

Siad ráidhte mo bheól a bheadh fíor;

Go deimhin duit go ndéanfainn a gnó

Do léirchur i gcóir is i gcrich.

Dó léighfinn go léir stair dom' stór,

'S ba mhéinn liom í thógaint dom chroí,

'S do bhearfainn an chraobh dhi ina dóid,

Is ar Éirinn ní n-eósainn cé h-í.

 

Tá spéir-bhruinneal mhaordha dheas óg

Ar an taobh thall de'n teóra 'na mbím.

Tá féile 'gus daonnacht is meóin

Is deise ro-mhór ins an mhnaoi,

Tá folt lei a' tuitim go feóir,

Go cocánach ómarach buí.

Tá lasadh 'na leacain mar rós,

Is ar Éirinn ní n-eósainn cé h-í.

 

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