Cumha Eoghan Ruaidh Uí NéillLament For Owen Roe O'Neill |
Mar táid a Dhé na Gaedhil gan treóir is truagh! Síol ádhmhar Néill, síol Éibhir mhóir i dtuaidh. Síol Táil go tréith, sliocht Shéarlais chródha i nguais, Gan cháil, gan chéim, ó'n éag sin Eógain Ruaidh.
2. I dtáimhcheas léir tá Éire ó bhóinn go Muaidh.
3. Is láidir a shéideas gaoth gach ló do thuaidh;
4. Faoi chlár i gcré tá féile Fódla uainn. | The Gaelic race, alas, no leader owns, The seed of Niall and Eibhear helpless moans, The face of Eire now is dark with woe; And fallen her pride, when died great Owen Roe!
2. All Erin lies in grief, from Boyne to Moy,
3. 'Tis cold each day the piercing north-wind blows,
4. In church-yard clay lies Erin's generous Chief, |