Tras-scríbhinn

Thug mé grá dhuit agus mé beag bídeach
Agus chuir mé barr air agus mé mór millteach;
Ní hé an grá é a thug an t-uan dhon chaora
Ach grá buan daingean nach féidir a scaoileadh.

Scéal ar an ngrá seo, nach mairg a thug é
Dh'aon mac máthar ariamh nár thuig é;
Mo chroí in mo lár is d'fhága sé dubh é,
Ní fheicim ar an tsráid seo ná in áit ar bith é.

Gheall tú dhom agus rinne tú bréag liom
Go mbeifeá romham ag cró na gcaorach;
Lig mé fead 'gus dhá fhichead béice,
Ní bhfuair mé romham ach na huain ag méileach.

Gabhfaidh mo stórsa an ród seo amáireach,
Beidh cnaipí airgid ar rostaí lámha,
Measa leis mise ná a dtiocfaidh is ná a dtáinig,
Mo chomaoin dhó mar bheinn le (seala).

Go ndéantar fíon dhon tsruth seo síos
Is (luachair) ghlas don raithneach (chríon),
Nóiníní bána dho bharr an fhraoigh,
Tá páirt dho do ghrá-sa nach bhfágfaidh mo chroí.

Deir siad liomsa go bhfuil mé malraiteach,
Go bhfuil céile eile in aice baile liom;
Lucht na mbréag is ná rabh rath orthub,
Ach beidh mé pósta le mo stór (is dho) mo thaca.

Chuaigh mo mhuintir ar fad go Sasana
Ag déanamh mo chleamhnas le buachaill deas eicínt,
Nuair a shíl siad féin gur maighdean acu mé
Cén chaoi a mbeinn ach i mo chladhaire banaltra.

Chuir tú amach mé, bhí an oíche ag báisteach,
Is fuair mé leagan mór le fána,
Níor úirt tú 'Dia linn' is bhí tú i láthair,
(Is b'fhurast a aithint) dhom an uair sin go rabh fuath ag mo ghrá dhom.

Tá mo chroí istigh chomh dubh le airne
Nó le bonn bróige a bheadh ar ealtaí bána
Nó le gual dubh dóití i gceárta,
Tá lionn dubh mór os cionn mo gháire.

Aistriúchán

I loved you when I was tiny
And I added to it when I was huge;
It is not the love that the lamb gave the sheep
But an enduring strong love that cannot be broken.

A tale of this love, woe to the one who gave it
To any mother's son who never understood it;
My heart within me he left black,
I don't see him on this street or anywhere else.

You promised me, and you lied,
That you would meet me at the sheep-pen;
I gave a whistle and and two score shouts,
All I found were lambs bleating.

My love will travel this road tomorrow,
With golden buttons on wrists,
He prefers me to all who will come or who have come,
My obligation to him for I would be (...).

Until wine be made of this stream below us
And green rushes(?) of the withering(?) fern,
White daisies of the heather-tops(?)
There is a part of your love which won't leave my heart.

They tell me that I am baneful,
That there is another partner near me at home;
May the liars never prosper,
But I will be married to my love and to my mainstay (?).

All my family went to England
To make a match for me with some nice boy,
When they thought that I was a virgin
How would I be but as a foolish nurse (?).

You sent me out, the night was raining,
And I took a big tumble down the slope,
You didn't say 'God bless us' and you were present,
I could easily see at that time that my love hated me.

This heart of mine is as black as a sloe
Or a black shoe-sole on white flocks(?)
Or black coal burned in a forge,
There is a great dark mood covering my laughter.

Tráchtaireacht

Leagan é seo den amhrán 'Dónall Óg', ceann de na hamhráin ghrá is mó clú i dtraidisiún amhránaíochta na hÉireann. Cloistear leaganacha de ar fud na tíre agus i nGaeltacht na hAlban. Déantar cur síos ar an arraing, an dobrón agus an briseadh croí atá ar bhean óg ar thuiscint di go bhfuil a grá geal, Dónall Óg, tar éis í a thréigean. Le haghaidh staidéir ar an amhrán, a leaganacha, agus na foinn a luaitear leis féach Seosamh Ó Duibhginn, Dónall Óg: taighde ar an amhrán (BÁC, 1960). Tá taifeadtaí go leor den amhrán ar fáil. Is féidir leagan eile de as contae na Gaillimhe a chloisteáil ar Seosamh Ó hÉanaí: Ó mo dhúchas (Gael-Linn, 1976).