Tras-scríbhinn

Tá mé ina mhaighistir[1] ag teacháil scoile i mBaile Átha Cliath,
Tá mé ag teacháil ann le fada.
Tá mé ag cúirtéireacht le cailín, le cailín ag an bhóthar,
Cailín a bhfuil airgead aici is ór.
Tá sí ag cúirtéireacht le beirt, le beirt nó triúr,
Tá eagla mhór ormsa go mbeidh sí ag súil.
Téimsa a dh'amharc uirthi trí heat[2] insa lá,
Saoilim mé féin go bhfuil sí ina chailín bhreá.
Dúirt sí liom nach bpósfadh sí mé go brách,
Mur bpósfainn ise ar maidin, ar maidin roimh an lá.
Thug so domhsa cineál de fright
Nó fuair mise chuig an tsagart straight.
Gháirigh sé liom, dúirt sé go rabh mo scéal go breá,
Go bpósfadh sé mise ar maidin roimh an lá.
Na[3] a bhí mé pósta mí nas mó
D'éirigh mo bheansa deabhaltaí slow.
Chan éireochadh sí ó mhaidin, ó mhaidin go meán lae,
Caithfinnse breakfast a thabhairt chuici ar an tray.
Cha(r) lig an eagal domhsa a'n ndadaí[4] a rá,
Ach i gcónaí go rabh sí ina bhean bhean bhreá.
Teachaim sa scoil ó mhaidin go tráthnóna,
Na thigim 'na mbaile[5] tá mo chroí lán dóláis.
Mo thoigh salach giobach is mo leaba gan cóiriú,
Bábaí bocht sa chradle is a mhamaí ag sweetheartáil fríd an tsráid,
Ag guí le Dia i gcónaí gan mise (le) choíche theacht.
Cha ligeann eagal domhsa a'n ndadaí a rá
Ach i gcónaí go bhfuil sí ina bhean bhean bhreá.
Le mo chuidse airgid a chóireann sí í féin suas,
Is domhsa a thabhrann sí beagán de mheas.
Cha ligeann eagal damhsa a'n ndadaí a rá,
Ach i gcónaí go bhfuil sí ina bhean bhean bhreá.
Dá bhfeicfeá mo bhean bhean bhreá...
Dá bhfeicfeá mo bheansa ar maidin Dé Domhnaigh,
Le boinéidí is le ribíní is le búclaí ar a bróga,
Gúna bán de shíoda síos go béal a bróige,
Sé a fhiafranns[6] na baitsiléirí cá bhfuil sí siúd ina cónaí.
Ach cha ligeann eagal damhsa a'n ndadaí a rá,
Ach i gcónaí go bhfuil sí ina bhean bhean bhreá.
Téann mo bheansa 'un Aifrinn ar maidin Dé Domhnaigh,
Cha dtig sí 'na mbaile go tráthnóna Dé Luain.
Dá gcosnóchainnse cúig phunta, cúig phunta insa lá,
Chaithfinn mo bheansa i bhfad roimh an lá.
Phós mise an bhean so mar gheall ar an tsaibhreas,
Rud a fháganns mo chroí dólásach,
Mo chraiceann bocht gan léine.

Aistriúchán

I am a master teaching school in Dublin,
I'm teaching there a long time.
I'm courting a girl, a girl on the road,
A girl who has silver and gold.
She is courting two, two or three,
My great fear is that she will be expecting.
I go to see her three times a day,
I believe she is a beautiful girl.
She told me she would never marry me,
If I didn't marry her in the morning, in the morning before daybreak.
This gave me a bit of a fright
So I went straight to the priest.
He smiled at me, he said it was fine,
That he would marry me in the morning before daybreak.
When I was married a month or more
My wife became devilishly slow.
She wouldn't get up in the morning, from morning until midday,
I would have to give her breakfast on a tray.
I was too afraid to say anything,
But always that she was a beautiful woman.
I teach in the school from morning until evening,
When I come home my heart is full of sorrow.
My house is dirty and untidy and my bed is unmade,
The poor baby in the cradle and his mother 'sweethearting' through the street,
Praying to God that I never come home.
I'm too afraid to say anything
But always that she is a beautiful woman.
She dresses herself up with my money,
And she has little respect for me.
I'm too afraid to say anything,
But always that she is a beautiful woman.
If you saw my beautiful woman...
If you saw my woman on Sunday morning,
With bonnets and ribbons and buckles on her shoes,
A white silk dress down to her toes,
The bachelors ask where that one lives.
But I'm too afraid to say anything,
But always that she is a beautiful woman.
My wife goes to Mass on Sunday morning,
She doesn't come home until Monday evening.
If I earned five pounds, five pounds a day,
My wife would spend it long before the day is out.
I married this woman for riches,
This is what leaves my heart sorrowful,
My poor back without a shirt.

Fonótaí

Tráchtaireacht

Tá tras-scríobh air seo leis in Róise Ní Bhaoill, Ulster Gaelic voices: bailiúchán Doegen 1931 (Béal Feirste, 2010), 238-41. Tá leagan eile de i gcló in Gerard Stockman agus Heinrich Wagner, 'Contributions to a study of Tyrone Irish,' Lochlann 3 (1965), 43-235: 214-17. Ní hionann é is an t-amhrán dar teideal 'An Máistir Scoile' atá in Lillis Ó Laoire, Ar chreag i lár na farraige (Indreabhán, 2002), 343.