Ged tha mo cheann air liathadh, Le deuchainnean is bron, Is grian mo leth-cheud bliadhna Air ciaradh fo na neoil; Tha m' aigne air an lionadh Le iarrtas tha ro mhor, A dh'fhaicinn Eilean Sgiathach Na siantanan 's a' cheo.
Tha corr 's da fhichead bliadhna Bho'n thriall mi uait gam' dheoin. 'S a chuir mi sios mo lion Ann am meadhon baile mhoir; Is ged a fhuair mi iasgair A lion mo thaigh le stor, Bu chuimhneachail mi riamh ort 'S bu mhiann leam bhi 'nad choir.
Ach co aig a bheil cluasan No cridh' tha gluasad beo, Nach seinneadh leam an duan seo Mu'n truaigh' a thainig oirnn? Na milltean a chaidh fhuadach Thar chuain gun chuid, 's gun choir, Tha miann an cridh' 's an smuaintean Air Eilean uain' a' Cheo.
Nis, cuimhnichibh ur cruadal, Is cumaibh suas ur srol; Gu'n teid an roth mu'n cuairt duibh Le neart is cruas nan dorn; Gum bi bhur crodh air buailtean 'S gach tuathanach air doigh; 'S na Sas'nnaich air am fuadach A Eilean uain' a' Cheo.
The Misty Isle (Skye)
Although my head has greyed With forgetfulness and sadness, And the sun of my fifty years Has darkened under the clouds; My thoughts are filled With a great desire, To see the Isle of Skye The elements and the mist.
It is more than forty years Since I left you willingly, And I put down my roots In the middle of the city; And although I married a fisherman Who filled my house with wealth, You are forever in my mind And I long to be in your shelter.
But who has ears, Or a heart which beats with life Who will not sing this song with me About the hardship which has befallen us? The thousands who were cleared Deprived of their belongings and their rights, The desires of their hearts and their thoughts Are on the "Green Isle of the Mist".
Now remember your hardship, And keep your banner flying; For the wheel (of change) will not go round for you Without strength and hardness of fist; Your cattle will be in their folds, And every farmer will be happy - And the English would be ousted From the "Green Isle of the Mist".
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Copy to Clipboard: Ged tha mo cheann air liathadh, Le deuchainnean is bron, Is grian mo leth-cheud bliadhna Air ciaradh fo na neoil; Tha m' aigne air an lionadh Le iarrtas tha ro mhor, A dh'fhaicinn Eilean Sgiathach Na siantanan 's a' cheo.
Tha corr 's da fhichead bliadhna Bho'n thriall mi uait gam' dheoin. 'S a chuir mi sios mo lion Ann am meadhon baile mhoir; Is ged a fhuair mi iasgair A lion mo thaigh le stor, Bu chuimhneachail mi riamh ort 'S bu mhiann leam bhi 'nad choir.
Ach co aig a bheil cluasan No cridh' tha gluasad beo, Nach seinneadh leam an duan seo Mu'n truaigh' a thainig oirnn? Na milltean a chaidh fhuadach Thar chuain gun chuid, 's gun choir, Tha miann an cridh' 's an smuaintean Air Eilean uain' a' Cheo.
Nis, cuimhnichibh ur cruadal, Is cumaibh suas ur srol; Gu'n teid an roth mu'n cuairt duibh Le neart is cruas nan dorn; Gum bi bhur crodh air buailtean 'S gach tuathanach air doigh; 'S na Sas'nnaich air am fuadach A Eilean uain' a' Cheo.
The Misty Isle (Skye)
Although my head has greyed With forgetfulness and sadness, And the sun of my fifty years Has darkened under the clouds; My thoughts are filled With a great desire, To see the Isle of Skye The elements and the mist.
It is more than forty years Since I left you willingly, And I put down my roots In the middle of the city; And although I married a fisherman Who filled my house with wealth, You are forever in my mind And I long to be in your shelter.
But who has ears, Or a heart which beats with life Who will not sing this song with me About the hardship which has befallen us? The thousands who were cleared Deprived of their belongings and their rights, The desires of their hearts and their thoughts Are on the "Green Isle of the Mist".
Now remember your hardship, And keep your banner flying; For the wheel (of change) will not go round for you Without strength and hardness of fist; Your cattle will be in their folds, And every farmer will be happy - And the English would be ousted From the "Green Isle of the Mist".
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