Hò bha mi, hé bha mi
O bha mar rithe
Ged a bha mi mar tha mi
Bha mo làmh air a’ nighinn.
Bha ‘n cù ‘s e sìor dhranndan
as a’ cheann sa robh ‘n nighean
Bha mise gam chrùbadh
sa chùil san robh ‘n t-snighe.
Thuirt am bodach ‘s e ‘g èirigh
as a lèine na shuidhe;
“Cò tha còmhl’ riut, a Sheònaid?
A bheil thu ‘d ònrachd a’ bruidhinn?”
‘S làbhair Seònaid ghrinn uasal
Air uachdar a cridhe
“Barail leam gur e bruadar
A ghluais sibh nur dithis.”
Hò I was, hè I was
O I was with her
Although I was as I am
I was embracing the girl.
The dog was ceaselessly snarling
in the area where she was.
I was crouched in the leaky little room.
The shirt-clad old man sat up and said
“Who’s with you, Seònaid,
or are you talking to yourself?”
And noble, beautiful Seònaid
spoke from her heart.
“I think it was a dream that roused the
pair of you.”