https://seannos.tg4.ie/baile/amhranaithe/eibhlin-ni-chonghaile/dearthairin-og-mo-chroi-sean-nos/

Deartháirín Óg Mo Chroí (little young brother of my heart)

Is cuimhneoidh mé chúns mhairfeas beo
Ar an mbaile i Ros a’ Mhíl
Is ar mo bhealach soir ag an scoil úd thall
Is an cúinne a mbínn i mo shuí
Ní raibh bróig ná stoca ar mo dhá choisín
Ach mo mhála ar mo dhroim
Is mé ag cuimhniú theacht abhaile arís
Ag deartháirín óg mo chroí.

Is nach iomaí oíche fhada bhreá
A chaith mé i Ros a’ Mhíl
Ar bheagán céille ar bharr na céibhe
Ag damhsa ‘s ag gabháil fhoinn
Bhíodar ann as Bearna siar go Carna
‘s as chuile cheard den tír
Is bhí an chlann uilig in éineacht ann
Agus deartháirín óg mo chroí.

Is nár bhocht an scéal ag mo Mháithrín é
An lá ar fhág mé an teachín tuí
Bhí an obair gann ‘s ní raibh a ghalún ann
Ach mo bhádóir i measc na n-imircigh
‘S nár bheag a cheap mé an mhaidin úd
Nach bhfillfinn ar ais arís
Ach mé ag fágáil slán ag an talamh bán
‘s ag mo deartháirín óg mo chroí.

Sa gcurachín bheag chanbháis
A chaith mé tús mo shaoil
Ag tabhairt móin go hÁrainn is ar ais anall
‘S as sin soir go Bleá ’n Rí
Bhíodh mo Dheaide bocht is é báite fliuch
Ag láib ‘s an fheamainn bhuí
‘s mo Mháithrín thiar ag fanacht linn
Is le deartháirín óg mo chroí.

------
As long as I live, I will remember that town of Ros a' Mhíl, and going over to school, and the corner where I sat. There were no shoes or socks on my two little feet, just the pack on my back, And I'm remembering coming home again to my dear little young brother.

And isn't it many a fine long night I spent in Ros a' Mhíl (Rossaveel), With little sense at the top of quay/pierhead
Dancing and playing tunes, They were there from Bearna to Carna, and from every part of the land, And all the children were together there, And my dear little young brother

Wasn't it a sad day for my dear mother, when I left the little thatched house. Work was scarce and his boat was not there[?], but my boatman in the midst of the emigrants. It's little I thought on that morning that I wouldn't return again, As I said goodbye to the fair land and to my dear little young brother.

I spent the first part of my life in the little canvas currach (rowboat), going back and forth to Arann island delivering turf (peat), and from there east to Bleá ’n Rí (Baile an Rí, Kingstown),
My poor daddy soaking wet from the mud and the yellow seaweed/knotted wrack
And my dear mother waiting for for us, with my dear little young brother.

-- People with good Irish are most welcome to improve on this hasty translation