Gwandryas Iwerdhon/Irish Rover

Kernewek		English
		(translated by Matthi Clarke)
Peswara Gortheren mil eth kans ha hwegh Ni a woelyas yn mes Corcaigh hweg Ha goelya dhe ves gans brykkys yn gorhel Rag hel Evrog Nowydh mar deg Hi o lester pur vrav – lovanys 'lergh a-rag Ha fatel wre hy lywya an gwynsow gwyls Godhevel hwythow meur, seyth warn ugens gwern pur hir Ha henwys Gwandryas 'Werdhon Dhyn ni unn milyon argh a kwethow Sligo margh Dhyn ni dew vilyon balyer a ven Dhyn ni tri milyon pall a geher margh dall Dhyn ni peswar milyon balyer eskern Dhyn ni pymp milyon kath ha hwegh milyon rath Ha seyth milyon balyer a Borter Dhyn ni eth milyon trok a lostow gavar dhrog Y'n gorhel Gwandryas ‘Werdhon. Yth esa down yn y sorn Mickey Coote ha tollgorn Pan omrestra benynes rag dons Ev a seni marthys brav, dhodho lies quadrille skav Kyn fe skwith an dhonsoryon dre jons Gans y geskows didhan, ev o den prowt ha glan Ha'n damyow veu rollyes der-dro dhodho I 'wre aswonn yn skav pan esa a'y sav Bos marner Gwandryas ‘Werdhon. Yth esa Barney McGee dhiworth glannow an Lee Yth esa Hogan a Gonteth Tyrone Yth esa Johnny McFail ha kas o ganso hwel Ha den a West Meath o Malone Yth esa William ap Prys neb o medhow pupprys Trigys ova ev yn Carmarthen Ha pur splann, Mick McCann dhiworth glannow teg an Bann Ev o lywyas Gwandryas 'Werdhon Seyth bledhen fest drudh o pan dardhas brygh rudh Ha'n gorhel y'n niwl kellys o Ha'n para brav ha tew a lehas bys y’n dew Saw my ha'n ki koth hwath der-dro Nena skwattya karrek vras, re’m fe skruth divlas Treylyes veu an gorhel yn tien, Naw-weyth a-der-dro, ha'n ki koth marow o Ha'n diwedh Gwandryas 'Werdhon		On the fourth of July eighteen hundred and six We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks For the grand city hall in New York 'Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft And oh, how the wild winds drove her She'd got several blasts, she'd twenty-seven masts And we called her the Irish Rover We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags We had two million barrels of stones We had three million sides of old blind horses hides We had four million barrels of bones We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs Seven million barrels of porter We had eight million bails of old nanny goats' tails In the hold of the Irish Rover There was awl Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute When the ladies lined up for his set He was tootin' with skill for each sparkling quadrille Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet With his sparse witty talk he was cock of the walk As he rolled the dames under and over They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance And he sailed in the Irish Rover There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee There was Hogan from County Tyrone There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work And a man from Westmeath called Malone There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule And fighting Bill Tracey from Dover And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the Bann Was the skipper of the Irish Rover We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out And the ship lost it's way in the fog And that whale of the crew was reduced down to two Just myself and the captain's old dog Then the ship struck a rock, oh Lord what a shock The bulkhead was turned right over Turned nine times around, and the poor dog was drowned I'm the last of the Irish Rover

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