Cailín deas cúiseach na mbó
Our aunt Neilí sang this version of a song normally heard in the south of Ireland where it’s called Cailín deas crúite na mbó / The pretty girl milking the cows. That song has the same lovely melody but the words are quite different. In Munster, singing the song was supposed to bring bad luck.
Ó bhí mise lá ag goil go Dubhrainn agus casadh domh dís cailín óg
Chuir a(on) bhean acu píosa dá dúiche nach mbuailfinnse barr an crann seoil;
Ó ba ródheas a coiscéim is a héideadh is í go haerach ag goil romhamsa sa ród
Ós a rí nár dheas a bheith ag súgradh le cailín deas cúiseach na mbó.
Ó shiúil mé thar croic agus gleanntáin is faoi chrainn a raibh cnó ar a mbarr
Is mé ag iarraidh tuairisc mo chéadsearc ná is í a lagaigh an croí in mo lár;
Ó ba aoibhinn is ba dheas an tráthnóna, bhí an smaolach ar chraobh ag gabhail cheoil
Is i bpáirc bheag a bhí aici i gcoisíseal, bhí mo chailín is í ag bleághan na bó.
Ó tá cailín i gcontae na Gaillimhe is tá cailín i gcontae Mhaigh Eo,
Is tá cailín beag eile sa bhaile nach bhfaca sibh a leithéid go fóill;
Ó nó thógfadh sí croí na bhfear marbh is ‘ach duine a chluinfeadh mo scéal
Ós nár mhéanair a gheobhadh í le mealladh, mo chailín deas cúiseach na mbó.
Ó bhí mise lá ag goil go Dubhrainn agus casadh domh dís cailín óg
Chuir a(on) bhean acu píosa dá dúiche nach mbuailfinnse barr an crann seoil;
Ó ba ródheas a coiscéim is a héideadh is í go haerach ag goil romhamsa sa ród
Ós a rí nár dheas a bheith ag súgradh le cailín deas cúiseach na mbó.
One day as I was going to Dubhrainn, I met a pair of young girls
One of them bet me a piece of her property, I wouldn’t reach the top of the mast
Oh her footsteps and her clothes were delightful as she went ahead of me gaily on the road
Oh heavens, it would be good to be having fun with my comely pretty girl of the cows.
Oh I walked over hills and valleys under trees that had nuts in their boughs
And I was searching for trace of my true love for she had weakened my heart in my core
Oh the afternoon was sweet and pleasant and the thrush was singing in the branches
And in a little field she had nearby was my girl as she milked the cow.
Oh there’s a girl in county Galway and there’s a girl in county Mayo
And there’s another little girl at home and you’ve never yet seen the likes of her
For she would raise the hearts of men who are dead and everyone who would hear my story
Oh wouldn’t it be fortunate for the man who would get to woo her, my comely pretty girl of the cows.