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She is the flower of winter

My lovely Celtic bloom

She waits for me by Aran’s shore

For the currach’s swift return

She smiles away my hardest day

My Aran flower sweet

I’ve loved her since our childhood years

Mo chailín deas mo chroi.


She is the primrose of the spring

My gentle Aran rose

She looks for me when I’m at sea

With eyes of purest love

I feel the brightness of her heart

Reach out from Aran’s quay

While searching for the currach’s bows

In the wild Atlantic seas


She is the warmth of summer’s morn

My island’s mystic air

With wild flowers held close to her breast

With hands of loving care

I see her walk the cliff tops there

As the currach beats the foam

She calls to me from high above

The seagulls’ nesting young


She is the autumn’s shyness

My close of Celtic day

She’ll wait till night falls all alone

Just to greet me from the sea

I lift the currach from the waves

And I rest it on the stones

She comes to help my aching back

Then she takes me to her home.


She is my gentle Aran girl

As pure as sweet primrose

As fair as any summer’s day

She’s as wild as winter’s snows

She has the freshness of the spring

She’s autumn on her hair

With eyes of Aran like the sea

She’s my gentle Aran girl


©Finbar Furey 1997

Aran Girl