162. The Fairy Wort

BUAINIDH mi an earnaid, Le earlaid a bruth, Chur barrlait air gach ainreit, Fad 's is earnaid i.

Earnaid shith, earnaid shith, Mo niarach an neach dh' am bi, Ni bheil ni mu iadhadh grein, Nach bheil di-se le buaidh reidh.

Buainidh mi a chraobh urramach Bhuain Moire mhor, Mathair chobhair an t-sluaigh, Chur dhiom gach sgeula sguana, sgulanach, Dim-bith, dim-baigh, dim-buaidh, Fuailisg, guailisg, duailisg, doilisg, Gun teid mi dh' an fhuar lic fo'n talamh.

PLUCK will I the fairy wort, With expectation from the fairy bower, To overcome every oppression, As long as it be fairy wort.

Fairy wort, fairy wort, I envy the one who has thee, There is nothing the sun encircles, But is to her a sure victory.

Pluck will I mine honoured plant Plucked by the great Mary, helpful Mother of the people, To cast off' me every tale of scandal and flippancy, Ill-life, ill-love, ill-luck, Hatred, falsity, fraud and vexation, Till I go in the cold grave beneath the sod.