Oona.
O bard of the black eye, it is you
Who have found victory in the world and fame;
I call on yourself and I praise your mouth;
You have set my heart in my breast astray.
Hanrahan.
O fair Oona of the golden hair,
My desire, my affection, my love and my store,
Herself will go with her bard afar;
She has hurt his heart in his breast greatly.
Oona.
I would not think the night long nor the day,
Listening to your fine discourse;
More melodious is your mouth than the singing of the birds;
From my heart in my breast you have found love.
Hanrahan.
I walked myself the entire world,
England, Ireland, France, and Spain;
I never saw at home or afar
Any girl under the sun like fair Oona.
Oona.
I have heard the melodious harp
On the streets of Cork playing to us;
More melodious by far I thought your voice,
More melodious by far your mouth than that.