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MP3 Klingeltöne für Dein Handy
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Interpret:
Nationalhymne
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| Irland + Translation
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As Gaeilge:
Seo dhibh a chairde duan Oglaigh,
Cathreimeach briomhar ceolmhar,
Ar dtinte cnamh go buacach taid,
S an speir go min realtogach
Is fonnmhar faobhrach sinn chun gleo
S go tiunmhar gle roimh thiocht don lo
Fe chiunas chaomh na hoiche ar seol:
Seo libh canaidh Amhran na bhFiann
Curfa:
Sinne Firnna Fail
A ta fe gheall ag Eirinn,
buion dar slua
Thar toinn do rainig chugainn,
Fe mhoid bheith saor.
Sean tir ar sinsir feasta
Ni fhagfar fen tioran na fen trail
Anocht a theam sa bhearna bhaoil,
Le gean ar Ghaeil chun bais no saoil
Le guna screach fe lamhach na bpilear
Seo libh canaidh Amhran na bhFiann.
Cois banta reidhe, ar ardaibh sleibhe,
Ba bhuachach ar sinsir romhainn,
Ag lamhach go trean fen sar-bhrat sein
Ta thuas sa ghaoith go seolta
Ba dhuchas riamh dar gcine chaidh
Gan iompail siar o imirt air,
S ag siul mar iad i gcoinne namhad
Seo libh, canaidh Amhran na bhFiann
Curfa
A bhuion nach fann dfhuil Ghaeil is Gall,
Sin breacadh lae na saoirse,
Ta sceimhle s scanradh i gcroithe namhad,
Roimh ranna laochra ar dtire.
Ar dtinte is treith gan spreach anois,
Sin luisne ghle san speir anoir,
S an biobha i raon na bpilear agaibh:
Seo libh, canaidh Amhran na bh Fiann.
Curfa
English:
Well sing song, a soldiers song,
With cheering rousing chorus,
As round our blazing fires we throng,
The starry heavens oer us;
Impatient for the coming fight,
And as we wait the mornings light,
Here in the silence of the night,
Well chant a soldiers 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 Erins cause, come woe or weal
Mid cannons roar and rifles peal,
Well chant a soldiers song
In valley green, on towering crag,
Our fathers fought before us,
And conquered neath the same old flag
Thats proudly floating oer us.
Were children of a fighting race,
That never yet has known disgrace,
And as we march, the foe to face,
Well chant a soldiers 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 silvry glow,
Out yonder waits the Saxon foe,
So chant a soldiers song.
Chorus
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Eingetragen |
23.Nov.2001 14:11:10 |
Letzer Aufruf |
26.Feb.2004 15:02:40 |
Besucher |
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