Ar maidin inné go moch.

Ag imeacht fé thuairim an aonaigh.

Is na stocaí ar a dtaobh acu.

Do tháinig mearathal éigin

Is scamall ón spéir orthu

Is b’é an áit ar seoladh ar strae iad,

Ná go Póna na Stéige soir.

Shuíodar is dheineadar comhairle,

Is ghoileadar deora cuid.

Is d’ímpíodar cabhair Rí na Glóire,

Go dtógfadh sé an cro den chnoc

Chun gur casadh chun tí Thaidhg na mBó iad,

Mar a fuaireadar cóir is cion.

Séamas Ó Súilleabháin, Clochbhuaile d’inis an scéal seo do

Mhaolmhuire Mac Gearailt

Tuairíní.

Two women left my own house

At dawn of yesterday,

Over the hill to the distant fair

With their bundles of stockings for sale.

The mist and the fog surround them

And where did their footsteps stray

To the hill above Póna na Stéige

And they knew they were out of their way.

Down they sat on the heather,

They mixed their tears with their prayers

Begging the King of Glory

To the fog from the hill.

The mist soon parted before them

And great was their joy to see

Tadhg na mBó’s house on the hillside

With welcome and warm good cheer.

Told by James O’Sullivan , Cloughvoola, to Myle Fitzgerald, Tooreens.