Eudail mhòir a shluagh an domhain Dhòirt iad d’ fhuil an dè ’S chuir iad do cheann air stob daraich Tacan beag bhod chrè. (Great sweetheart of all people of the world They poured your blood yesterday And they put your head on an oak stick A short distance from your body.) Òbhan, òbhan òbhan ìri Òbhan ìri ò! Òbhan, òbhan òbhan ìri ’S mòr mo mhulad ’s mòr. (Woe is me, woe is me Woe is me, great indeed is my sorrow.) I
