|
Amhràn na bhFiann Seo dhibh a chàirde duan òglaigh, Cathréimeach brìomhar ceolmhar, àr dtinte cnàmh go buacach tàid, 'S an spéir go mìn réaltògach Is fonnmhar faobhrach sinn chun gleo 'S go tiùnmhar glé roimh thi/ocht do'n lò Fé chiùnas chaomh na hoiche ar seol: 'Seo libh canai/dh Amhra/n na bhFiann [Curfa] Sinne Firnna Fàil A tà fé gheall ag éirinn, buion dàr slua Thar toinn do ràinig chugainn, Fé mhòid bheith saor. Sean tìr àr sinsir feasta Nì fhagfar fé'n tioràn nà fé'n tràil Anocht a the/am sa bhearna bhaoil, Le gean ar Ghaeil chun ba/is no/ saoil Le guna screach fe/ la/mhach na bpile/ar Seo libh canai/dh Amhra/n na bhFiann. Cois ba/nta re/idhe, ar a/rdaibh sle/ibhe, Ba bhuachach a/r sinsir romhainn, Ag la/mhach go tre/an fe/'n sa/r-bhrat se/in Ta/ thuas sa ghaoith go seolta Ba dhu/chas riamh d'a/r gcine cha/idh Gan iompa/il siar o/ imirt a/ir, 'S ag siu/l mar iad i gcoinne na/mhad Seo libh, canai/dh Amhra/n na bhFiann [Curfa] A bhui/on na/ch fann d'fhuil Ghaeil is Gall, Sin breacadh lae na saoirse, Ta sce/imhle 's scanradh i gcroi/the namhad, Roimh ranna laochra a/r dtire. A/r dtinte is tre/ith gan spre/ach anois, Sin luisne ghle/ san spe/ir anoir, 'S an bi/obha i raon na bpile/ar agaibh: Seo libh, canai/dh Amhra/n na bh Fiann. [Curfa] |
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. [Coro] 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 [Coro] 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. [Coro] |