Óró sé do bheatha 'bhaile - Celtic Woman

Se do bheatha a bhean ba leanmhar!

B’e ar gcreach tu bheith i ngeibhinn,

Do dhuiche bhrea i seilbh meirleach

'S tu diolta leis na Ghallaibh.

Oro, se do bheatha 'bhaile!

Oro, se do bheatha 'bhaile!

Oro, se do bheatha 'bhaile!

Anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh.

Ta Grainne Mhaol ag teacht thar saile,

Oglaigh armtha lei mar gharda;

Gaeil iad fein 's ni Gaill na Spainnigh,

'S cuirfid siad ruaig ar Ghallaibh.

A bhui le Ri na bhfeart go bhfeiceam,

Muna mbeam beo 'na dhiaidh ach seachtain,

Grainne Mhaol agus mile gaiscioch

Ag fogairt fain ar Ghallaibh.

Long live his most enduring wife!

You were a prey to the captivity,

Your beautiful land in the possession of thieves

You are sold to the Caithnesses.

Oro, it's your home life!

Oro, it's your home life!

Oro, it's your home life!

Now that summer has arrived.

Grainne Mhaol is coming over the sea,

Armed with her as a guard;

They are Gaels themselves and not the Gaels of Spain,

And they will drive away the foreigners.

Thanks to the King of miracles that I may see,

If I live only a week after that,

Grainne Mhaol and a thousand warriors

Scattering the foreigners.