Ar mhaidin geal sa Mharta, dfhag me slan ar New Orleans,
Is thug me a ghaidh ar Jacksontown ag lorg stor is maoin,
Mo ghran ar airgid iasachtachni raibh cairde agam le fail,
Sin a Bhris mo chroi le cra is cumhaidh ]ar bhruach loch Pontchartrain.
Thug me leim ar traein, le heiri grein agus thriall me rith an lae,
's ag deireadh neoin le tuirse is broin ba mhian liom dhul faoi shuain.
Nior chairde domh na stainseiri gur tharla fa mo dhein,
An ainnir chron de threibh Creole ar Bhruach Loch Pontchartrain.
Ar me "A chailin Creole, ta mo phocai lom foraoir,
Ach ab e na alligators, do luifonn sios faoin speir".
"Ta failte romhat go dti mo thi, ce gur simpil e i reim,
Ach nior diultadh riamh don strainseir ann ar bhruach Loch Pontchartrain.
Thug si go teach a mathara me is rann si liom go fial,
'S a folt dubh cas in a ndlaoithe deas thar a guailli chroch aniar,
Ar a mhaise is sceimh, nil scriobh na leamh ar a hailleacht na a gnaoi,
Is i an annair chaomh a mheall mo chroi ar Bhruach Loch Pontchartrain.
Dhiultaigh si me a phosadh ach d'inis si liom go fior,
Go raibh a gra ar bharr na dtonn i bhfad i gcein on tir,
Duirt si go mbeadh si dilis do is go bhfanadh si lei fein,
Go bpillfeadh se chuig a ghra Creole ar bhruach loch Pontchartrain.
Cead slan le bron, A chailin chron, anois ta ag imeacht uaim,
Ach beidh coimhne ar do chinealtas ag teach beag cois an chuain,
'Measc cairde cleibh ag spraoi no scleip go lionfad gloine lan,
Le slainte ag ol d'ainnir Creole ar Bhruach Loch Pontchartain.
seamus mc spud Carefree
- 14 years, 8 months, 20 days ago
