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Arrane Ashoonagh Vannin

Ass Wikipedia.
"Arrane Ashoonagh Vannin"
Gaelg: O Halloo Nyn Ghooie
Çheer Mannin
Focklyn William Henry Gill / John J. Kneen
Kiaull William Henry Gill
Doltit 2003


Va Arrane Ashoonagh Vannin screeuit as cummit liorish William Henry Gill (1839-1923), lesh y çhyndaa Gaelg jeant er liorish John J. Kneen (1873-1939). Hooar yn arrane staydys oikoil ass Tinvaal ec cruinnaght er 22 Jerrey Geuree 2003, as staydys oikoil currit er God Save the King myr Arrane Reeoil Vannin.

Focklyn

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Gaelg

O Halloo nyn ghooie,
O Chliegeen ny's bwaaie,
Ry gheddyn er ooir aalin Yee,
Ta dt' Ardstoyl Reill-Thie,
Myr Barool er ny hoie,
Dy reayll shin ayns seyrsnys as shee.

Tra Gorree yn Dane,
Haink er traie ec y Lhane,
Son Ree Vannin v'eh er ny reih;
'S va creenaght veih Heose,
Er ny chur huggey neose,
Dy reill harrin lesh cairys as graih

Ren nyn ayr'yn gimraa,
Va Nooghyn shenn hraa,
Yn Sushtal dy Hee fockley magh,
Shegin yeearree peccoil,
Myr far aileyn Vaal,
Ve er ny chur mow son dy bragh

Vec ooasle yn Theill,
Ayns creioghys tooilleil,
Ta traaue ooir as faarkey,
Gow cree Ny jarrood yn Fer mie,
Ta coadey'n lught thie,
Ren tooilleil liorish Loch Galilee

Deiyr yn sterrym noon as noal,
Yn baatey beg moal,
Fo harey hug Eh geay as keayn,
Trood ooilley nyn ghaue,
Ta'n Saualtagh ec laue,
Dy choadey nyn Vannin veg veen

Lhig dorrinyn bra,
Troggal seose nyn goraa,
As brishey magh ayns ard arrane,
Ta nyn groink aalin glass,
Yn vooir cummal ass,
As coadey lught thie as shioltane

Nyn ellan fo hee,
Cha boir noidyn ee,
Dy bishee nyn eeastyn as grain,
Nee'n Chiarn shin y reayll,
Voish streeughyn y theihll,
As crooinagh lesh shee'n ashoon ain.

Lhig dooin boggoil bee,
Lesh annym as cree,
As croghey er gialdyn yn Chiarn
Dy vod mayds dagh oor,
Treishteil er e phooar,

Dagh olk ass nyn anmeenyn 'hayrn.

Baarle

O land of our birth,
O gem of God's earth,
O Island so strong and so fair;
Built firm as Barrool,
Thy Throne of Home Rule
Makes us free as thy sweet mountain air.

When Orry, the Dane,
In Mannin did reign,
'Twas said he had come from above;
For wisdom from Heav'n
To him had been giv'n
To rule us with justice and love.

Our fathers have told
How Saints came of old,
Proclaiming the Gospel of Peace;
That sinful desires,
Like false Baal fires,
Must die ere our troubles can cease.

Ye sons of the soil,
In hardship and toil,
That plough both the land and the sea,
Take heart while you can
And think of the Man
Who toiled by the Lake Galilee.

When fierce tempests smote
That frail little boat,
They ceased at His gentle command;
Despite all our fear,
The Saviour In near
To safeguard our dear Fatherland.

Let storm-winds rejoice,
And lift up their voice,
No danger our homes can befall;
Our green hills and rocks
Encircle our flocks,
And keep out the sea like a wall.

Our Island, thus blest,
No foe can molest;
Our grain and our fish stall increase;
From battle and sword
Protecteth the Lord,
And crowneth our nation with peace

Then let us rejoice
With heart, soul and voice,
And in The Lord's promise confide;
That each single hour
We trust in His power,

No evil our souls can betide.