Cad é sin don té sin nach mbaineann sin dó
This is a combination of a couple of versions of this well-known and widely sung song. The basic words and melody are from Síle Mhicí Uí Ghallchóir, from Dobhar, in Gaoth Dobhair, Donegal as noted down by Séamus Ennis. It’s supplemented by a few verses from Máire Nic Chomhaill, Crolly, Donegal and a few verses we have known all our lives.
An gcluin tú mé a Chathaoir agus druid a mo chomhair
Nó go dtúsóidh mé a theagasg duit ligint den ól;
B’fhearr duit bean agat nó sealbhán bó
Ná bheith ag cruinniú do leathphingin’ is do hata i do dhorn.
Grá folaigh ní thug mé don aon mhnaoi ariamh
Nó dá dtabharfainn ó mheallfainn a croí ina cliabh;
Maoin eallaigh níor chuir mé ariamh ann spéis,
Is mrá deasa go leanfadh ar aonach mé.
Dá muirbhfinn an riabhach is dá n-íosfainn an fheoil
Dá ndíolfainn a craiceann agus a luach uilig a ól,
Dá gcaithfinn mó bhríste sa tinidh is é a dhó
Cad é sin don té sin nach mbaineann sin dó.
Tá céad fear in Éirinn nár ól ariamh deoir,
Cruinniú na ndéirce is a mhála ar a thóin,
Ag feitheamh ‘ach tráthnóna cé thiocfas an ród,
Cad é sin don té sin nach mbaineann sin dó.
Deir daoine go bhfuil mé gan rath is gan dóigh
Gan earraigh ná éadach gan bólacht ná stór,
Ach má tá mise sásta mo chónaí a ghnóthú
Cad é sin don té sin nach mbaineann sin dó.
Tá a fhios agam cailín deas cneasta lách cóir
A bhfuil a cneas mar an eala is a plucaí mar rós,
Bíodh sise agus mise ag éalú faoi shó
Cad é sin don té sin nach mbaineann sin dó.
Chuaigh mé chun aonaigh agus dhíol mé mo bhó
Ar chúig phunta airgid is ar ghiné bhuí óir
Má ólaim an t-airgead is má bhronnaim an t-ór
Cad é sin don té sin nach mbaineann sin dó.
Do you hear me Cahir, come over to me now
til I start teaching you to give up the drink
You would be better off with a wife or pasture for a cow
Than to be collecting halfpennies with your hat in your hand.
I never gave secret love to any woman ever
If I were to do so, I’d seduce her heart in her breast
I was never interested in the wealth of cattle
As pretty women would follow me to the market.
If I killed the brindled cow and ate the meat
If I sold the hide and drank its value
If I threw my trousers into the fire and burnt them
What’s that to anyone it doesn’t concern.
There’s a hundred men in Ireland that never drank a drop
Gathering and begging with their bag on their arse
Waiting every afternoon to see who’d come along the road
What’s that to anyone it doesn’t concern.
People say I’m feckless and of no use
Without any worldly goods or clothes, without cattle or wealth
But if I’m content to eke out my living
What’s that to anyone it doesn’t concern.
I know a pretty girl who is proper, kind and decent
Whose complexion is like the swan and her cheeks like the rose
Let she and I elope at our ease
And what’s that to anyone it doesn’t concern.
I went to the fair and I sold my cow
For five pounds in money and a guinea in gold
If I drank the money and gave away the gold
What’s that to anyone it doesn’t concern.