Preab San Ól

Is iomaí slí sin a bhíos ag daoine
ag cruinniú píosaí is ag déanamh stóir,
is a laghad a smaoiníos ar ghiorra an tsaoil seo
go mbeidh siad sínte faoi leac go fóill.
Más tiarna tíre, diúc nó rí thú,
ní rachaidh pingin leat is tú ag dul faoin bhfód.
Mar sin is dá bhrí sin níl beart níos críonna
ná bheith go síorraí ag cur preab son ól.

An long thar sáile níl cuan nó cearda
nach gcaithfeadh cairde ar fud an domhain mhóir
ó ríocht na Spáinne agus suas Gibraltar
Agus ins an áit a mbíonn an Grand Senor.
Le gach lasta ag líonadh málaí
ní choinneodh an bás uaidh uair nó dhó.
Mar sin, a chairde, níl beart níos fearr dúinn
ná bheith mar táimid ag cur preab san ól.

vertaling in Engels:

THE PUB WITH NO BEER

It's lonesome away from your kindred and all
By the camp fire at night where the wild dingoes call,
But there's nothing so lonesome so morbid or drear
Than to stand in a bar of a pub with no beer.

Now the publican's anxious for the quota to come
There's a far away lock on the face of the bum
The maid's gone all cranky and the cook's acting queer
What a terrible place is a pub with no beer.

Then the stock-man rides up with his dry dusty throat
He breasts up to the bar, pulls a wat from his coat,
But the smile on his face quickly turns to a sneer,
When the bar man said sadly the pub's got no beer.

Ther's a dog on the 'randa-h for his master he waits
But the boss is inside drinking wine with his mates
He hurries for cover and cringes in fear
It's no place for a dog round a pub with no beer.

Old Billy the blacksmith first time in his life
Has gone home cold sober to his darling wife,
He walks in the kitchen, she says you're early me dear,
But he breaks down and tells her the pub's got no beer.