(English portion only):

When Ireland stream sings lullaby
There grows a lillypad
When a white gleam is in her eye
The night is on head

And like a lovesick lamb and sheep
She hath my heart and soul
Nor life I owe more liberty
For life is part of all

And often when the people scorn
They lost their ease to sleep
I still long to her sheeling ore
And through the stormy sea

And all the crickets singing so
She spares my heart would fall
And hums in sad, sweet undertone
The parts we under sphire

(Hardly a good transcript, but this was a difficult piece!