Nice



Mo rn geal dleas, dleas, dleas
Mo rn geal dleas nach till thu nall
Cha till mi fhin riut, a ghaoi chan fhaod mi
'S ann tha mi ghaoil 'na mo laighe tinn.

Is truagh nach robh mi an riochd na faoilinn
A shnmhadh aotrom air bhrr nan tonn
Is bheirinn sgrobag do'n eilean Ileach
Far bheil an rbhinn dh'fhg m'inntinn trom.

Thug mi mos ann am fiabhras claoidhte
Gun dil rium oidhche gu'm bithinn be
B'e fth mo smaointean a l 's a dh'oidhche
Gum faighinn faochadh is tu bhi 'm chir.

Cha bhi mi str ris a' chraoibh nach lb leam
Ged chinneadh bhlan air bhrr gach gig
Mo shoraidh sln leat ma rinn thu m'fhgail
Cha d'thinig trigh gun muir-ln na didh.

Chorus
My faithful fair darling,
My faithful fair darling, won't you turn back to me;
I will not turn with you, my love, I cannot
For my beloved is lying ill.

I grieve I am not in the guise of a seagull,
Swimming light on top of the waves;
And I would journey to the island of Islay
Where tarries the maiden who vexes my soul.

I spent a month in the torment of fever
When each night I did not expect to survive;
The object of my thoughts each day and night
That my request be granted and you at my side.

I will not struggle with the tree I can't bend,
Though each bough be amply laden with apples;
My fond farewell to you if you have left me,
The sea never ebbs, but follows the flow