4 acessos
B'fhearr liom bheith ag scriobh/ I would rather write
Mar gheall ar solas an lae / About the nature and character of daylight
Na' behith ag cur sios / Than to describe
Ar miant mo chroi / The yearnings of my heart
B'fhearr liom bheith a siul / I would instead, walk
San bhfoiris gle / The illuminated forest
Rain becomes silver
Leave turn to gold
B'fhearr liom feachaint siar /I would rather look back
Is bheith ag eitilt san aer / And fly through the air
Na' behith I cgonai troid / Than to always fight
In aghaidh an saol/ Against the world
B'fhearr liom bheith im' leanbh / Instead of this I would be a child
San aoibhneas gie / In intense happiness
Rain becomes silver
Leave turn to gold
Cloth become amber
Wind turn to snow
B'fhearr liom lui ar thalahm / I would rather lie on the ground
Is bheith a stanadh ar an re / And gaze at the heavens
Na' behith feachaint sios uaim / Than to look down
Ar dath an chre /At the colour of the earth
B'fhearr liom bheith ag cogar / Instead, I would whisper
Le ceol na n-ean / The song of birds
Mere, soeur . . . la guere n'est pas bonne / Mother, sister . . . war is not a good thing
Gens du monde la guere n'a que des vaincus / People of the world, war has only losers
Simple orguell de l'homme pour montrer sa capacite en detruisant son prochain / The simple pride of men to demonstrate their power whilst destroying their brothers