| Hata Irlandia
(Amhrán na bhFiann)
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Hata Inggeris
(The Soldier's Song)
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Lapatan di Hata Batak Toba
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| Bindu Parjolo
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Seo dhibh a cháirde duan Óglaigh,
Cathréimeach briomhar ceolmhar,
Ár dtinte cnámh go buacach táid,
'S an spéir go min réaltogach
Is fonnmhar faobhrach sinn chun gleo
'S go tiúnmhar glé roimh thíocht do'n ló
Fé chiúnas chaomh na hoiche ar seol:
Seo libh canaídh Amhrán na bhFiann.
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We'll sing a song, a soldier's song,
With cheering rousing chorus,
As round our blazing fires we throng,
The starry heavens o'er us;
Impatient for the coming fight,
And as we wait the morning's light,
Here in the silence of the night,
We'll chant a soldier's song.
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Marende ma hita, logu ni soldadu,
Dohot gogo ni roha,
Huhut marpungu ma hita,
Di tingki rondang ni bintang;
Girgir do di na margurilla i,
Paimahon binsar ni mata ni ari na sogot,
Dison do lungun ni borngin,
Marende ma hita sada logu ni soldadu.
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Sinne Fianna Fáil
A tá fé gheall ag Éirinn,
buion dár slua
Thar toinn do ráinig chugainn,
Fé mhóid bheith saor.
Sean tír ár sinsir feasta
Ní fhagfar fé'n tiorán ná fé'n tráil
Anocht a théam sa bhearna bhaoil,
Le gean ar Ghaeil chun báis nó saoil
Le guna screach fé lámhach na bpiléar
Seo libh canaídh Amhrán na bhFiann.
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Soldiers are we,
whose lives are pledged to Ireland;
Some have come
from a land beyond the wave.
Sworn to be free,
No more our ancient sire land
Shall shelter the despot or the slave.
Tonight we man the "bearna bhaoil",
In Erin's cause, come woe or weal
'Mid cannons' roar and rifles peal,
We'll chant a soldier's song.
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Soldadu do hami,
na marhobasi Irlandia;
Ro do hami
Sian tano na margalumbang.
Margirgir tu paruaran,
Ndada do di bona pasogitnami
jolma na diktator jala parhatobanon.
Di borngin on, lao ma hami tu parmaraan,
Huhut goar ni Irlandia, arsak ni roha dohot hadangolan,
Di tonga tembakan ni bodil jala soara na mandorom,
Marende ma hita sada logu ni soldadu.
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| Bindu Paduahon
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Cois bánta réidhe, ar árdaibh sléibhe,
Ba bhuachach ár sinsir romhainn,
Ag lámhach go tréan fé'n sár-bhrat séin
Tá thuas sa ghaoith go seolta
Ba dhúchas riamh d'ár gcine cháidh
Gan iompáil siar ó imirt áir,
'S ag siúl mar iad i gcoinne námhad
Seo libh, canaídh Amhrán na bhFiann.
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In valley green, on towering crag,
Our fathers fought before us,
And conquered 'neath the same old flag
That's proudly floating o'er us.
We're children of a fighting race,
That never yet has known disgrace,
And as we march, the foe to face,
We'll chant a soldier's song.
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Di rura na rata, di dolok,
Na ginurilla do amanta,
Huhut manalu di sada bandera na sarupa
Na marhabangan di ginjangta.
Anak ni pargurilla do hita,
Na so hea do pe so pinarsangapan,
Di tingki mardalan do hita, mardomu dohot musunta,
Marende ma hita sada logu ni soldadu.
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| Bindu Patulohon
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A bhuíon nách fann d'fhuil Ghaeil is Gall,
Sin breacadh lae na saoirse,
Ta scéimhle 's scanradh i gcroíthe namhad,
Roimh ranna laochra ár dtire.
Ár dtinte is tréith gan spréach anois,
Sin luisne ghlé san spéir anoir,
'S an bíobha i raon na bpiléar agaibh:
Seo libh, canaídh Amhrán na bhFiann.
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Sons of the Gael! Men of the Pale!
The long watched day is breaking;
The serried ranks of Inisfail
Shall set the Tyrant quaking.
Our camp fires now are burning low;
See in the east a silv'ry glow,
Out yonder waits the Saxon foe,
So chant a soldier's song.
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Anak ni Gaelik! Parbona pasogit!
Nungnga ro do ari na dipaimahon;
Tongtong do soldadu ni Innisfail
Malehon habiaran tu si Tiran i.
Saonari na marjillam do girgirta;
Marnida hepeng perak di habinsaran,
Paimahaon Saxon musunta,
Beta marende logu ni soldadu.
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