AN DORD FEINNE
(The Fenian Chant)

‘Se do bheatha, O woman that wast sorrowful,
What grieved us was thy being in chains,
Thy beautiful country in the possession of rogues,
And thou sold to the Galls,

Oró, ‘se do bheatha a bhaile,
Oró, ‘se do bheatha a bhaile,
Oró, ‘se do bheatha a bhaile,
Now at summer’s coming!

 

Thanks to the God of miracles that we see,
Altho’ we live not a week thereafter
Gráinne Mhaol and a thousand heroes
Proclaiming the scattering of the Galls.

 

Oró, ‘se do bheatha a bhaile,
Oró, ‘se do bheatha a bhaile,
Oró, ‘se do bheatha a bhaile,
Now at summer’s coming!

 

Gráinne Mhaol is coming from over the sea,
The Fenians of Fál is a guard about her,
Gales they, and neither French nor Spaniard,
And a rout upon the Galls!

 

Oró, ‘se do bheatha a bhaile,
Oró, ‘se do bheatha a bhaile,
Oró, ‘se do bheatha a bhaile,
Now at summer’s coming!

 

Patrick Pearse