Irish National Anthem (Amhrán na bhFiann)

Amhrán na bhFiann Sinne Fianna Fáil, Atá fá gheall ag Éirinn, Buidhean dár sluagh tar rúinn do ráinig chughainn: Fámho’dh bhe’rh saor, Sean-t’r ár sinnsear feasta N’ fágfar fá'n t’orán ná fa'n tráil; Anocht a theigeamh sa bhearna baoghail, Le gean ar Gaedh’ chun b&aa cute;is nó saoghail, Le gunna sgréach: Fá lamhach na piléar. Seo Libh canaidh amhrán na bhFiann. Seo dhibh a cháirde duan oglaidh Caithréimeach, br’oghmhar, ceolmhar. ár dteinte cnámh go buacach táid, `S an spéir go min réaltógach. Is fionmhar faobhrach sinn chun gleo 'S go tiúnmhar glé roimh tigheacht do'n ló, Fa ciúnas chaoimh na h-oidhche ar seol, Seo libh, cana’dh amhr&a acute;n na bhFiann. Cois banta réidhe, ar árdaibh sléibhe. Ba bhuadhach ár rinnsear romhainn, Ag lámhach go tréan fá'n sár- bhrat séin Tá thuas sa ghaoith go seolta; Ba dhúthchas riamh d'ár gcine cháidh Gan iompáil riar ó imirt áir, 'Siubhal mar iad i gcoinnibh rámhaid S eo libh, canaidh amhrán na bhFiann. A buidhean nach fann d'fuil Ghaoidheal is Gall Sinn breacadh lae na saoirse, Tá sgéimhle 's sgannradh ’ gcroidhthibh namhad, Roimh ranngaibh laochra ár dt’re; ár dteinte is tréith gan spréach anois, Sin luinne ghlé san spéir anoir, 'S an b’odhbha i raon na bpiléar agaibh: Seo libh, canaidh amhr&aacut e;n na bhFiann.

A Soldier's Song 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 Bearna Baoghal In Erin's cause. come woe or weal; 'Mid cannon's roar and rifle's peal We'll chant a 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 mornings light here in the silence of the night We'll chant a soldier's song. In valley green or towering crag Our fathers fought before us, And conquered 'neath the same old flag That's 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. Sons of the Gael! Men of the Pale! The Long watched day is breaking; The serried ranks of Innisfail Shall set the tyrant quaking. Our camp fires now are burning low; See in the east a silvery glow, Out yonder waits the saxon foe, So chant a soldier's song.