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Bunan Bui

Song	Bunan Bui
Artist	Clannad
Album	Crann Ull

Lyrics

	A Bhuinneán
	Bhuí is é mo chrá do luí
	Is do chnámha sínte ar leaca lom'
	Is nach dtearn tú díth no dolaidh sa tír
	Is narbh fhearr leat fíon nó uisce poill.
	Dá gcuirfeá scéala fá mo dhéin
	Go raibh tú i ngéibhinn nó i ndeacair iot' Ó bhainfinnse béim ar
	Loch Mhic an Éin
	A fhliuchfadh do bhéal is do bhrollach síos.
	Ní hiad bhur n-éanlaith atá mé ag éagaoin
	An chuach, an traona ná an chorr-bhreac
	Ach an Buinneán
	Buí, a bhí lán de chroí
	Is gur cosúil liom féin é i snua is i ndreach.
	Bhíodh sé ag síoról na dí
	Is deir daoine go mbím ar an nós sin seal
	Is níl braon dá bhfuighinn nach ligfinn síos
	Ar fhaitíos go bhfuighinn féin bás den tart!
	Is é 'd'iarr mo stór orm ligint den ól
	Nó nach mbeinnse beo ach seal beag gearr:
	Is é dúirt mé léi gur chan sí an bhréag
	Nó go mb'fhaide do mo shaol an braon seo a fháil.
	Nach bhfeiceann tú éan an phíobáin réidh
	Go dteachaidh sí in éag den tart ar ball?
	Is a dhaoine cléibh, fliuchaigí bhur mbéal
	Nó ní bhfuighidh sibh braon i ndiaidh bhur mbáis!
	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!

Pinyin

	A Bhuinneá n
	Bhuí is é mo chrá do luí
	Is do chná mha sí nte ar leaca lom'
	Is nach dtearn tú dí th no dolaidh sa tí r
	Is narbh fhearr leat fí on nó uisce poill.
	Dá gcuirfeá scé ala fá mo dhé in
	Go raibh tú i ngé ibhinn nó i ndeacair iot' Ó bhainfinnse bé im ar
	Loch Mhic an É in
	A fhliuchfadh do bhé al is do bhrollach sí os.
	Ní hiad bhur né anlaith atá mé ag é agaoin
	An chuach, an traona ná an chorrbhreac
	Ach an Buinneá n
	Buí, a bhí lá n de chroí
	Is gur cosú il liom fé in é i snua is i ndreach.
	Bhí odh sé ag sí oró l na dí
	Is deir daoine go mbí m ar an nó s sin seal
	Is ní l braon dá bhfuighinn nach ligfinn sí os
	Ar fhaití os go bhfuighinn fé in bá s den tart!
	Is é ' d' iarr mo stó r orm ligint den ó l
	Nó nach mbeinnse beo ach seal beag gearr:
	Is é dú irt mé lé i gur chan sí an bhré ag
	Nó go mb' fhaide do mo shaol an braon seo a fhá il.
	Nach bhfeiceann tú é an an phí obá in ré idh
	Go dteachaidh sí in é ag den tart ar ball?
	Is a dhaoine clé ibh, fliuchaigí bhur mbé al
	Nó ní bhfuighidh sibh braon i ndiaidh bhur mbá is!
	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!