Ye Bockagh


mo chúrsa déanta agus mo shaidhbhrisSgapuidhar feadh Éire;Mo chapull mo chaoraigh, orrtha baodhal. mo chofraigh air gach taobh dhíom,Is mo chuineog ar mo mhéaruibh,Agus mo sgillin an aonaighLe n-ól le mo mhion.

Má’s bacach ar aon chois,Siubhala go héarach – Is níl aon chearn do ÉireNach dtoige mo chíosGo Corcaigh ‘s go Dubh Éile,‘S go Baile ÁthCliath na dtéarmaigh,Go Droichead Áthna n-aontaigh,‘S go Ceanadas na Midhe.

  • QUB Bunting MS 7/98 (Suggested in Nicholas Carolan, 2010, p.98)
  • The Lame Beggar

    My race is run and my wealth Is scattered throughout Ireland; My horse or my sheep, It is not they that are in danger. My coffers are on every side of me, And my churn is at my hands, And I have my shilling on the fair-day To drink with my dear one. Even though I am a lame beggar with one leg, I will walk airily – And there is no corner of Ireland From which I will not take my levy – To Cork and to Dubh Éile, And to Dublin of the law-terms, to Drogheda of the fairs, And to Kells in Meath.

    (Translation in Nicholas Carolan, 2010, p.98)