Push for PORTER

izquierdaPreab San Ólderecha

Is iomaí slí sin do bhíos ag daoine
Ag cruinniú píosaí is ag déanamh stóir,
'S a laghad a smaoiníos ar ghiorra a' tsaoil seo,
Go mbeidh siad sínte faoi leac go fóill.
Más tiarna tíre, diúc no rí thú,
Ní chuirfear pingin leat 's tú 'dul faoin bhfód,
Mar sin is dá bhrí sin, níl beart níos críonna
Ná bheith go síoraí ag cur preab san ól.

Why spend your leisure bereft of pleasure?
Amassing treasure, why scrape and save?
Why look so canny at every penny?
You'll take no money within the grave
Landlords and gentry with all their plenty
Must still go empty where e'er they're bound
So to my thinking we'd best be drinking
Our glasses clinking another round

Is gearr an saol 'tá ag an lílí sciamhach
Cé gur buí agus gur geal a ghabháil,
Is Solamh críonna ina chulaith riúil
Nach bhfuil baol air in áille dhó.
Níl sa tsaol seo ach mar soinneán gaoithe,
Ga a scaoiltear nó slám de cheo:
Mar sin 's dá bhrí sin, níl beart níos críonna
Ná bheith go síoraí ag cur preab san ól.

King Solomon's glory, so famed in story
Was far outshone by the lily's guise
But hard winds harden both field and garden
Pleading for pardon, the lily dies
Life's but a bauble of toil and trouble
The feathered arrow, once shot ne'er found
So lads and lasses, because life passes
Come fill your glasses for another round

An ceannaí craosach níl meon ná slí ar bith
Le ór a dhéanamh nach bhfeictear dhó,
An ráta is daoire ar an earra is saoire,
Is ar luach sé phinge de cuirfeadh coróin;
'S do réir chaint Chríosta is ní do-dhéanta
An camall cíocrach 'thabhairt tríd an ghró;
Mar sin 's dá bhrí sin, níl beart níos críonna
Ná bheith go síoraí ag cur preab san ól.

The huckster greedy, he blinds the needy
Their strifes unheeding, shouts "Money down!"
His special vices, his fancy prices
For a florin's value he'll charge a crown
With hump for trammel, the scripture's camel
Missed the needle's eye and so came to ground
Why pine for riches, while still you've stitches
To hold your britches up? Another round!



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