AMHRÁN NA bhFIANN
Seo dhibh, acháirde duan Óglaigh,
Cathréimeach briomhar ceolmhar,
Ár dtinte cnámh go buacach táid,
'S an spéir go min réaltogach,
Is fonnmhar faobhrachsinn chun gleo,
'S go tiúnmhar glé roimh thíocht do'n ló,
Fé chiúnaschaomh na hoiche ar seol:
Seo libh, canaídh Amhrán na bhFiann.
[CURFÁ]
Sinnne Fianna Fáil atá fé gheall ag Éirinn,
Buion dár slua thar toinn do ráinig chugainn
Fémhóid bheith saor. Seantír ár sinsir feasta
Ní fhagfar fé'n tiorán ná fé'n tráil.
Anocht a théam sa bhearna bhaoil,
Le gean ar Ghaeil chun báis nó saoil
Le guna screach fé lámhach na bpiléar,
Seo libh, canaídh Amhrán na bhFiann.
Cois bánta réidhe, ar árdaibh sléibhe,
Ba bhuachach ár sinsir romhainn,
Ag lámhach go tréan fé'n sár-bhrat séin
Tá thuas sa ghaoith go seolta.
Ba dhúchas riamh d'ár gcine cháidh
Gan iompáil siar ó imirt áir,
'S ag siúl mar iad i gcoinne námhad
Seo libh, canaídh Amhrán na bhFiann.
[CURFÁ]
A bhuión nách fann d'fhuil Ghaeil is Gall,
Sin breacadh lae na saoirse,
Ta scéimhle 's scanradh i gcroíthe namhad,
Roimh ranna laochra ár dtire.
Ár dtinte is tréith gan spréach anois,
Sin luisne ghlé san spéir anoir,
'S an bíobha i raon na bpiléar agaibh:
Seo libh, canaídh Amhrán na bhFiann.
[CURFÁ]
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THE SOLDIER'S
SONG
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 sireland
Shall shelter the despot or the slave.
Tonight we man the 'bhearna bhaoil',
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 that 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 campfires 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]
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