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Cois abhainn ghleann an Chéama in Uíbh Laoghaire sea bhímse,Mar a dtéann an fia san oíche chun síorchodladh sóil, Ag machnamh seal liom fhéinig, ag déanamh mo smaointe, Ag éisteacht i gcoillte le binnghuth na n-eon, Nuair a chuala an cath ag teacht aniar is glór na n-each ag teacht le sians, Le fuaim an airm do chrith an sliabh, is níor bhinn liom a nglór. Thángadar go namhadmhar mar a thiocfadh garda de chonaibh nimhe Is cumha mo chroí na sárfhir dh’fhágadar gan treoir.
Níor fhan fear, bean ná páiste in áitribh na dtíortha Na gártha goil a bhí acu is na mílte olagón, Ag féachaint ar an ngarda go láidir ’na dtimpeall, Ag lámhach is ag líonadh is ag scaoileadh ina dtreo, An liú gur leath i bhfad i gcian, sé dúirt gach flaith nár mhaith leis triall, ‘Gluaisigí go mear, tá an cath dá riar, is téimis ’na chomhair.’ Thángadar na sárfhir, guím áthas ar chlanna Gael, Is thiomáineadar na Páinthigh le fánaidh ar seol.
Níorbh fhada uainn go dtáinig lámh láidir ’nár dtimpeall, Do scaipeadar ár ndaoine ar maoilinn fén gceo, Bhí an Barrach ’na bhumbháille acu, Barnet agus Beecher, Hedges is Sweet is na mílte eile leo, Rí na bhfeart go leaga iad gan chlú gan mheas gan rath gan séan, Go tinte mear i measc na ndiabhal gan faoiseamh go deo! Céad glóire mór le hÍosa nár dhíolamar as an dtóir, Ach bheith ag déanamh grinn de is á dh’insint ar shó.
The river valley of the cam in Offaly Laoghaire yes I become, As goes the deer at night to síorchodladh sole, Reflecting turn me fhéinig, making my thoughts, Listening in the woods with binnghuth of eon, when heard of the battle at resilient is the voice of horse coming to sians, with the sound of the weapons to the mountain trembled, I is not melodious voice. flung that could namhadmhar as chonaibh guard of poison is the thought of my heart without guidance dh'fhágadar sárfhir .
There remained a man, woman or child in the premises of the countries the cheers appetites that have had tens of thousands wail, looking at the guard strongly 'the surroundings, At shooting filling is released towards, the cry had spread far in Far, each prince said he did not like the approach, 'Gluaisigí fast, the battle is two servings, that let us' the union.' flung the sárfhir, Gael families wish joy, is the Páinthigh drove to fánaidh to sail.
Soon we came strong hand 'not around, For by spreading our people maoilinn under mist, was the Tow' the bhumbháille them, Barnet and Beecher, Hedges as Sweet as the thousands of others who, King of Miracles that laid without reputations without without success rate without fortune, in rapid fires among the devil without relief forever! First glorified Jesus have been sold for the pursued, But to make fun of as being dh'insint of luxury.
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