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Lyrics:
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English Translation:
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Tha mo chridh'-sa a' seinn gu treun
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My heart sings out strongly
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Mu 'n tìr bu dual dhomh 's do chainnt na Fèinn',
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of the beautiful land frequented by the Fingalians
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Dùthaich mhaiseach a rinn m'àrach;
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The gorgeous land from where I rose
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Tìr nan sàr-laoch nam beanntan àrd.
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Land of the true highland heroes
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Mi 'n seo nam chrùban 's mi cianail tùrsach,
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I sit hunched over, saddened and tired
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Gun tàmh gun sunnd is mo shaoghal gun sìth,
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without rest or joy and my world without peace
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Cha bàs no buaireadh a dhùisg mo smuaintean,
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'Tis not death or temptation that has awoken my thoughts
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Cha fuath nan cruinneag a bhuail mo chridh',
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'Tis not unrequited love that has struck my heart
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Ach 's e cràidh mi – cionn-fàth mo lèiridh –
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But that which hurt me, the cause of my wounding -
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Ged theireadh càch gur cràiteach mi;
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although most will say I am just bitter
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'S e sìol na gràisge chaidh an cur le Sasainn
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It is the seed of rabble that was planted from England
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An tìr na Gàidhlig a ghleus mo strì.
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into the land of the Gaelic that has stirred my fight
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'S gach àit' gan tèid mi tha m' chluas ag èisteachd
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In every place I go, my ears must listen
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Ri luchd na Beurla 'tha fantainn ann,
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to the non-Gaels who are living there,
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'S ged rug' mi fhìn ann an tìr tha ìosal,
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and although I was born near the lowlands,
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Bu dual dham shinnsreadh tìr àrd nam beann,
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my people are from the high land of the mountains
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Tìr eagach fhraochmhor, tìr lochach chraobhach,
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Land of sharp cliffs, land of lochs and trees,
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Tìr nan laoch is nan cinneadh fìor;
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Land of heroes and clans,
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Mar bhroinn mo mhàthar chuir smior 'nam chnàmhan,
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Like my mothers womb that put marrow in my bones to me,
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Leam-s' tha 'n àrd-thìr nam flath san iar.
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is the high land of the heroes to the west
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Ged thogadh fuath dhuibh an tìm a' chruadail,
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Although many mistreated you in times of hardship,
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'S gun deach thar chuain cuid dhe ur àl a bh'ann,
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and some of your young went over the seas,
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Tha cainnt mo luaidh-sa fo dhìonachd stuadhan
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the language I love still loves protected by the waves
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Nan eilean luachmhor, 's i fhàthast neo-ghann.
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of the precious islands and she is still not scarse
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Ach sheall nur lèirsinn ur laoigh gur trèigsinn -
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But look in your vision, your young forsaking you -
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'S iad dèanamh rèiteach le nàmhaid cruaidh,
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Consorting with a sworn enemy,
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Mar chlann na h-Èireann nach dean sibh èirigh?
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like the children of Ireland, will you not rise?
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Ur airm gan gleusadh le beul an t-sluaigh.
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Your arms being the opinion of your people!
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'S e bu dual dhuibh an dream bha buadhmhor,
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your natives are the race which won virtue,
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A chosg dhuinn cliù thar gach sluaigh fon ghrèin',
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who won u a reputation above all others,
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'S iad air an stiùireadh le daoine fuadain
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controlled by the foreigners,
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'S an cainnt ga sgiùrsadh le gnàthsan cèin',
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their language is driven out with foreign ways
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Ach 's e mo dhùrachd gun dean sinn dùsgadh
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But my wish is that we will wake up -
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'S gun tèid arc ùl ris na fàsain ùr',
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and put our backs to the new fashions;
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'S gun èirich suim dha ar dualchas uasal –
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That respect will arise for our noble culture
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'S gun gabh gu h-uaibhreach ar sliochd an stiùir!
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that our people will proudly take control!
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