Letras
From the womb of the Sidhe, from the breath of the sea
From the fire of Brigid and the oak of the free—
We rise
This is the blood that will not be spilled
This is the song that will not be stilled
Land of the Gael, from the cliffs to the glen—
We keep you forever for your own again
The wind remembers every name the strangers tried to erase
The stones still carry footprints of the ancient warrior race
The river sings in Gaelic though they dammed her silver tongue
The curlew cries our sorrow and the lark our freedom song
We walked the famine roads with death upon our breath
Yet carried in our pockets the green seed of rebirth
They took our tongue, our children, our roofs against the rain—
But never took the fire that sleeps inside the vein
This is the blood that will not be spilled
This is the song that will not be stilled
Land of the Gael, from the cliffs to the glen—
We keep you forever for your own again
Let the four green fields bloom only for the hands that know their worth
Let the children of the Gael walk barefoot on their mother's earth
No foreign flag, no borrowed tongue, no rented sky above—
Only the heartbeat of the people and the land they love
We plant no foreign forest on the bones of our sacred dead
We speak no borrowed language when we lay our babies to bed
The harp is tuned to freedom, the bodhrán beats for home—
Every hill a sentinel, every child a stepping stone
This is the blood that will never yield
This is the song that will never be sealed
Land of the Gael, from the sea to the sky—
We rise with the dawn and we never say die
Éire go brách—our children shall run free
This island is ours for eternity
Anam na nGael... anam na nGael