Translation of the song lyrics An poc ar buile - The Rumjacks

An poc ar buile (original)

Ag gabháil dom sior chun Droichead Uí Mhóradha Píce im dhóid 's mé ag dul
i meithil
Cé casfaí orm i gcuma ceoidh
Ach pocán crón is é ar buile
Do ritheamar trasna trí ruillógach
Is do ghluais an comhrac ar fud na muinge
Is treascairt do bhfuair sé sna turtóga
Chuas ina ainneoin ina dhrom le fuinneamh
Ailliliú, puilliliú, ailliliú tá an puc ar buile!
Ailliliú, puilliliú, ailliliú tá an puc ar buile!
Níor fhág sé carraig go raibh scót ann
Ná gur rith le fórsa chun mé a mhilleadh, S’Ansan sea do cháith sé an
léim ba mhó
Le fána mhór na Faille Bríce
Bhí garda mór i mBaile an Róistigh
Is bhailigh fórsa chun sinn a chlipeadh
Do bhuail sé rop dá adhairc sa tóin ann
S’dá bhríste nua do dhein sé giobail
Ailliliú, puilliliú, ailliliú tá an puc ar buile!
Ailliliú, puilliliú, ailliliú tá an puc ar buile!
I’M THE MAD PUCK GOAT O' KILORGLIN, AND I’M ATERROR TO YER EVERY FOE,
COME SING TO MY SACRED MEMORY.
FROM DROMORE OUT TO DINGLE, A-CARRYIN' THE
DEVIL I GO
A-DRIVIN' THE VILLAIN BEFORE ME
I nDaingean Uí Chúis le haghaidh an tráthnóna Bhí an sagart paróiste
amach 'nár gcoinnibh
Is é dúirt gurbh é an diabhal ba Dhóigh leis
A ghaibh an treo ar phocán buile
Ailliliú, puilliliú, ailliliú tá an puc ar buile!
Ailliliú, puilliliú, ailliliú tá an puc ar buile!
Ailliliú, puilliliú, ailliliú tá an puc ar buile!

An poc ar buile (translation)

As I continue to go to O'More's Bridge, I burn as I go
in meithil
Who would turn me in a misty look
But a crocodile bag is furious
We ran across three ruts
Your fight is all over the neck
He got crushed in the turtles
In spite of that, his back was filled with energy
Alliteration, alliteration, alliteration the puck is mad!
Alliteration, alliteration, alliteration the puck is mad!
He did not leave a rock untouched
Do not run with force to destroy me, It is then that he cast the
most jump
With the great slope of the Brick Opportunity
There was a large guard in Rochestown
We gathered a force to clip us
He struck a rope with his horns in the buttocks there
He made two new trousers
Alliteration, alliteration, alliteration the puck is mad!
Alliteration, alliteration, alliteration the puck is mad!
I’M THE MAD PUCK GOAT O ’KILORGLIN, AND I’M ATERROR TO YER EVERY FOE,
COME SING TO MY SACRED MEMORY.
FROM DROMORE OUT TO DINGLE, A-CARRYIN 'THE
DEVIL I GO
A-DRIVIN 'THE VILLAIN BEFORE ME
The parish priest was in Daingean Uí Chúis for the evening
out 'against us
He said he was the devil he thought
The direction caught a mad bag
Alliteration, alliteration, alliteration the puck is mad!
Alliteration, alliteration, alliteration the puck is mad!
Alliteration, alliteration, alliteration the puck is mad!