AN GAOḊAL.
481
El MAHDI.
Mo ḃeannaċt ort, El Mahdi!
Mo ḃeannaċt ort arís !
Go d-tugaiḋ Allah caḃair duit
Aig cur do náṁad síos !
A ṡaoi! A ṡaoi!
Tá agad guiḋe
Treun-Éireannaċ an doṁain;
Go m-béiḋ do ṫír
Gan ṁoíll go saor
Ó lomargáin an Leoṁain.
So fógraḋ ḋuit, El Mahdi,
So fógraḋ carad fíor. —
Na deun aon ċonnraḋ síoṫċáine
Le Sacsanaċ go síor.
Tá agad ceart
Anaġaiḋ neirt —
Is mealltóir náireaċ, Seáġan ;—
Ná glac aon dúais
Air son do ċúis',
Aċt saoirse ḃuan aṁáin.
D'éist sinn le Seáġan, El Mahdi,
Go minic d'éist sinn leis;
Do ċreid sinn geallta ṫug sé ḋúinn,
Aċt d'oibriġ sé ár sgrios.
Oir in gaċ geall
Do rinn' sé feall,
Do ḃris sé iad gaċ trá;
'Gus tá ár b-pian,
Le seaċt g-ceud bliaḋain,
Níos géire fás gaċ lá.
Aċt in do ċúis, El Mahdi,
Tá croiḋe na h-Éireann leat;
'Gus le do ċlann, tá troid go teann
Do ṡaoirse, faoi do ḃrat.
Tá fear a's bean,
Tá óg a's sean
Ó Ṫorc (1) go Bearnas Mór, (2
Aig guiḋe ċum Dé,
Go g-cuirfiḋ Sé
Do léiṫid dúinn mar ṫreóir.
Buail leat! buail leat, El Mahdi!
'Sná stad ó'n troid go deó,
Ċo ḟad a's tá aon Sacsanaċ
I d-tír do ḋúṫċais beó.
Buaíl leat! Buail leat!
'Gus congḃaiġ brat
EL MAHDI.
Translated
BY MICHAEL CAVANAGH.
My blessing take, El Mahdi!
My blessing take again!
May Allah Great enable you
To trash your foes amain !
Oh Sage! for you,
The Irish true.
O'er earth — pray Freedom's God
That Robber Guelphs
Blood-sucking whelps
Be hunted from our sod!
A warning take, El Mahdi!
This friendly caution heed,
A peaceful compact never make
with one of Saxon breed :
With you is "Right"
Confronting Might,
John Bull’s a traitor loon;
No present take
For Justice' sake —
Save Freedom's lasting boon.
We trusted John, El Mahdi!
His words we oft believed;
But, in each treaty with him made,
We ever were deceived :
For pledge and oath,
Were broken both, —
Through seven hundred years,
His blighting curse
Grew daily worse,
SAVE THEN WE GRASPED OUR SPEARS.
But in your cause, El Mahdi!
Old Ireland’s heart beats high ;
'Tis with your sons who bravely fight
Where Freedom's banners fly.
And young and old —
The fair and bold —
From Turk to “Bearna-Mor:"
A leader true
To send — (like you,)
The Lord of Hosts implore!
Strike on! strike on! El Mahdi!
And never hold your hand,
While but one living Saxon foe
Pollutes your ancient land.
Strike! Prophet brave !
Your banner wave,
