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AmhrĂĄn na bhFiann (A soldiers song)
Seo dhibh a chĂĄirde duan Ăglaigh,
Cathréimeach briomhar ceolmhar,
Ăr dtinte cnĂĄmh go buacach tĂĄid,
'S an spéir go min réaltogach
Is fonnmhar faobhrach sinn chun gleo
'S go tiĂșnmhar glĂ© roimh thĂocht do'n lĂł
FĂ© chiĂșnas chaomh na hoiche ar seol:
Seo libh canaĂdh AmhrĂĄn na bhFiann.
CurfĂĄ:
Sinne Fianna FĂĄil
A tĂĄ fĂ© gheall ag Ăirinn,
buion dĂĄr slua
Thar toinn do rĂĄinig chugainn,
FĂ© mhĂłid bheith saor.
Sean tĂr ĂĄr sinsir feasta
Nà fhagfar fé'n tiorån nå fé'n tråil
Anocht a théam sa bhearna bhaoil,
Le gean ar Ghaeil chun bĂĄis nĂł saoil
Le guna screach fé låmhach na bpiléar
Seo libh canaĂdh AmhrĂĄn na bhFiann.
Cois bånta réidhe, ar årdaibh sléibhe,
Ba bhuachach ĂĄr sinsir romhainn,
Ag låmhach go tréan fé'n sår-bhrat séin
TĂĄ thuas sa ghaoith go seolta
Ba dhĂșchas riamh d'ĂĄr gcine chĂĄidh
Gan iompĂĄil siar Ăł imirt ĂĄir,
'S ag siĂșl mar iad i gcoinne nĂĄmhad
Seo libh, canaĂdh AmhrĂĄn na bhFiann.
CurfĂĄ
A bhuĂon nĂĄch fann d'fhuil Ghaeil is Gall,
Sin breacadh lae na saoirse,
Ta scĂ©imhle 's scanradh i gcroĂthe namhad,
Roimh ranna laochra ĂĄr dtire.
Ăr dtinte is trĂ©ith gan sprĂ©ach anois,
Sin luisne ghlé san spéir anoir,
'S an bĂobha i raon na bpilĂ©ar agaibh:
Seo libh, canaĂdh AmhrĂĄn na bhFiann.
IN ENGLISH:
We'll sing a song, a soldier's song,
With cheering rousing chorus,
As round our blazing fires we throng,
The starry heavens o'er us;
Impatient for the coming fight,
And as we wait the morning's light,
Here in the silence of the night,
We'll chant a soldier's song.
Chorus:
Soldiers are we
whose lives are pledged to Ireland;
Some have come
from a land beyond the wave.
Sworn to be free,
No more our ancient sire land
Shall shelter the despot or the slave.
Tonight we man the gap of danger
In Erin's cause, come woe or weal
'Mid cannons' roar and rifles peal,
We'll chant a soldier's song.
In valley green, on towering crag,
Our fathers fought before us,
And conquered 'neath the same old flag
That's proudly floating o'er us.
We're children of a fighting race,
That never yet has known disgrace,
And as we march, the foe to face,
We'll chant a soldier's song.
Chorus
Sons of the Gael! Men of the Pale!
The long watched day is breaking;
The serried ranks of Inisfail
Shall set the Tyrant quaking.
Our camp fires now are burning low;
See in the east a silv'ry glow,
Out yonder waits the Saxon foe,
So chant a soldier's song.
Chorus |