I will say goodbye to my parents for ever,
I can no longer stay at home
Forever listening, each night and day,
To the river's murmering and sighing.
Chorus:
You're the river without tenderness or pity,
You've stolen my nice young boy from me,
And tomorrow may I be far from your bank
In the place I'll not hear your song.
I remember the day he went away,
The spring sun was in the brightness of his eyes
And my treasure told me not to be sad,
And that we would be married in the summer.
On a fine spring morning as I milked the cow
It was but a week since he had left,
That I was told that my jewel had died,
And that I would never see my bright love again.
I don't care if they shun me,
I don't care about the parish priest's scorn
There's no greater torment to inflict
Than the pain that is through my heart.
I haven't seen my love for three hard seasons,
But I will not forget my sweetheart's face
I see the fairness of his skin and the blueness of his eyes
As I look at my beautiful baby.
Back to "Abhainn gan trua"
Back to the main page