Irish

Seo dhibh a cháirde duan
Óglaigh,
Cathréimeach briomhar
ceolmhar,
Ár dtinte cnámh go buacach
táid,
'S an spéir go min réaltogach
Is fonnmhar faobhrach sinn
chun gleo
'S go tiúnmhar glé roimh
thíocht do'n ló
Fé chiúnas chaomh na hoiche
ar seol:
Seo libh canaídh Amhrán na
bhFiann.

Curfá:

Sinne Fianna Fáil
A tá fé gheall ag Éirinn,
buion dár slua
Thar toinn do ráinig chugainn,
Fé mhóid bheith saor.
Sean tír 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 bhuíon 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



English

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 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.

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 silv'ry glow,
Out yonder waits the Saxon
foe,
So chant a soldier's song.

Chorus