Never seen the film but Iarla Ó Lionáird is one of my favourite singers and this is one of my favourite songs.
It's a love song that translate as 'The Twisting of the Rope'.
Agus rinne mise cleas
Ag Tigh Mhic Ui Dhomhnaill aréir
Is an tarna cleas ag teach
An Ósta lena thaobh
An triú cleas ní bfhearr domh
A chur le mo scéal
Is gur mhinicí domh bheith ag caitheamh
An dúthracht mhaith léi
A Rí na bhfeart cad do chas
Ins a' dúiche seo mé?
'S gur mó cailín deas a gheobhainn
Im' dhúthaigín beag féin
Gur casadh mé isteach mar a raibh searc
Agus rún geal mo chléibh
Is chuir an tseanbhean amach mé
Ag casadh an tsúgáinín féir
Curfá:
Má bhíonn tú liom, bí liom
A stóirín mo chroí
Ma bhíonn tú liom, bí liom
Os comhair an tsaoil
Ma bhíonn tú liom, bí liom
Gach orlach de do chroí
Is é mo liom go fann nach liom
Dé Domhnaigh thú mar mhnaoí
Tá mo cheannsa liath le bliain
Is ní le críonnacht é
Ní bheathaíonn na briathra
Na bráithre pé sa domhan scéal é
Is táim i do dhiaidh le bliain
Is gan fáil agam ort féin
Is gur geall le fia mé ar sliabh
Go mbeadh gáir chon ina dhéidh
Do threabfainn, d'fhuirsinn
Chuirfinn síol ins a' chré
'S do dhéanfainn obair shocair
Álainn, mhín, réidh
Do chuirfinn crú fén each
Is mire shiúil riamh ar féar
Is ná héalaodh bean le fear
Ná déanfadh san féin
I did a trick in O’Domhnall's house last night
And a second trick at the holstelry next door
I'd prefer not to add the third trick to my story
And I often spent a good __ with her
Oh God Almighty, what drove me to this district?
When it's many a fine lass I'd find in my own townland
I called into the house of my own true love
And the old woman put me twisting rope 'til I was outside the door
Chorus:
If you'll be mine, be mine oh treasure of my heart
If you'll be mine, be mine before the whole world
If you'll be mine, be mine every inch of your heart
Alas that you're not my wife this Sunday
My head is gray and it's not from old age
Fair words butter no parships anyway
I'm after you now for a year and it's useless
And I'm like a deer on the moor and the hounds are yelping after me
I'd plow, I'd toil, I'd sow seed in the clay
And I'd do a steady job, beautiful, smooth and even
I'd shoe the maddest horse ever to walk on grass
And the woman still wouldn't elope with a man who’d do that