Ó ì og ì ò  
 Mhòrag 's na ho rò gheallaidh  
 Ó ì og ì ò  
   
 Mhòrag bheag a' chùil riomhaich  
 Dheanainn-sa do chìr a cheannach  
   
 Mhòrag bheag a' chùil dualaich  
 'S tric do luaidh a' tighinn air m'aire  
   
 Mis' amuigh air luing a' seòladh   
 'S mi gun dòigh air tighinn gu baile  
   
 An cuimhne leat an oidhche bha sinn   
 'S a' luing bhàin air bhàrr na mara  
   
 An oidhche sin a chaidh ar fuadach 
 Thànaig a' mhuir mhùr 'na gleannaibh 
   
 'S [bad word] a Rìgh nach ann a bha mi  
 'N ciste-laigh nam bòrdan tana  
   
 Bhon a chunna mi na coinnlean   
 Ag gabhail araoir air do bhanais 
   
 Nuair dheidheadh tu amach a dh'fhia'chadh  
 Bu trom do thriall bhon a' bhaile  
   
 Le d'ghunna leathann 's le d'fhùdar  
 Le do ghille 's cù 'na dheannamh 
   
 Leagadh tu 'n damh donn a' bhùirein  
 'S fhuil 'ga thùcadh 's e gun anail  
   
 Cha leiginn thu chrò nan caorach   
 Air eagal d'aodach a shalach  
   
 Cha leiginn thu chrò nan gobhar  
 No bhleoghainn a' [bad word] as t-earrach  
   
 Mi air chùl nam beanntan àrda  
 Cha chluinn mo mhàthair mo ghearain  
   
 Mhòrag bheag nighean an Leòdaich  
 Airson a dheanainn dòrtadh faladh 
   
 Mhòrag bheag à tìr nan Leòdach  
 Dh'òlainn do dheoch-slàint' a dh'aindheoin 

English:

   
Little Morag of the lovely locks
I would buy you [bad word]    
Little Morag of the curling tresses
Often your [bad word] to mind
   
Me, out on the ship sailing
Without a way to return home

Do you remember the night we were on board?
The white sailed ship on the surface of the sea
   
That was the night we were driven off course
By the sea that rose in billows
   
It's a pity that I wasn't
In the coffin of narrow boards
   
Since I saw the candles
Blazing at your wedding banquet
   
When you went on the hunt
Heavy your procession from the village
   
With your slender barrelled gun
Powder, attendant and bounding dog
   
You would kill [bad word] brown stag
Leaving him breathless and choked on his blood
   
I would not permit you to go to the sheep pen
For fear you would soil you clothing
   
I would not permit you to go to the goat pen
Or to milk the cows at springtime

I am on the backside of the high mountains
My mother can't hear [bad word]    
Little Morag, daughter of the MacLeod chief
For whom I would spill blood
   
Little Morag from the land of the MacLeods
I would drink your toast notwithstanding