Текст песни «Clannad - Bunan Bui»

A Bhuinnea?an Bhua?a is a?a mo chra?a do lua?a
Is do chna?amha sa?ante ar leaca lom'
Is nach dtearn ta?a da?ath no dolaidh sa ta?ar
Is narbh fhearr leat fa?aon na?a uisce poill.
Da?a gcuirfea?a sca?aala fa?a mo dha?ain
Go raibh ta?a i nga?aibhinn na?a i ndeacair iot'
a?' bhainfinnse ba?aim ar Loch Mhic an a?'in
A fhliuchfadh do bha?aal is do bhrollach sa?aos.

Na?a hiad bhur n-a?aanlaith ata?a ma?a ag a?aagaoin
An chuach, an traona na?a an chorr-bhreac
Ach an Buinnea?an Bua?a, a bha?a la?an de chroa?a
Is gur cosa?ail liom fa?ain a?a i snua is i ndreach.
Bha?aodh sa?a ag sa?aora?al na da?a
Is deir daoine go mba?am ar an na?as sin seal
Is na?al braon da?a bhfuighinn nach ligfinn sa?aos
Ar fhaita?aos go bhfuighinn fa?ain ba?as den tart!

Is a?a 'd'iarr mo sta?ar orm ligint den a?al
Na?a nach mbeinnse beo ach seal beag gearr:
Is a?a da?airt ma?a la?ai gur chan sa?a an bhra?aag
Na?a go mb'fhaide do mo shaol an braon seo a fha?ail.
Nach bhfeiceann ta?a a?aan an pha?aoba?ain ra?aidh
Go dteachaidh sa?a in a?aag den tart ar ball?
Is a dhaoine cla?aibh, fliuchaiga?a bhur mba?aal
Na?a na?a bhfuighidh sibh braon i ndiaidh bhur mba?ais!
Oh Yellow Bittern, alas to see you stretched
And your bones there lying on bare flagstones
You did no harm at all in the country
And would just as prefer ditch water to wine
Had you only sent me a message
That you were in a quandry, in need of a drink
I would have broken the ice on the lake
To wet your beak and all the way down to your breast.

I'm not lamenting your ordinary birds
The cuckoo, the corncrake or the dappled heron
But the yellow bittern of the great heart
Who was just like me in many ways
He was always fond of the sup
And people say I'm fond of a drop myself
Whatever drink comes my way, it's down it goes
For fear that I might one day die of thirst!

And my darling asked me to give up the booze
Or I'd only be alive a short while more,
I told her straight out she was telling a lie
And that the drink extended my life's span.
Don't you see that bird with the smooth neck
That only a while ago perished with the thirst?
Ah, my pleasant people, wet your whistles
Because after death ye won't get a drop!