Lift MacCahir Og your face
You're brooding o'er you're old disgrace
That black FitzWilliam stormed your place,
He sent you to the Fern.
Grey said victory was sure
Soon the firebrand he'd secure;
Until he met at Glenmalure
With Fiach MacHugh O'Byrne.
Curse and swear Lord Kildare,
Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now FitzWilliam, have a care
Fallen is your star, low.
Up with halberd out with sword
On we'll go for by the lord
Fiach MacHugh has given the word,
Follow me up to Carlow.
From Tassagart to Clonmore,
There flows a stream of Saxon gore
Oh, great is Rory Oge O'More,
At sending loons to Hades.
White is sick and Grey is fled,
And now for black FitzWilliam's head
We'll send it over, dripping red,
To Liza and her ladies.
Curse and swear Lord Kildare,
Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now FitzWilliam, have a care
Fallen is your star, low.
Up with halberd out with sword
On we'll go for by the lord
Fiach MacHugh has given the word,
Follow me up to Carlow.
Curse and swear Lord Kildare,
Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now FitzWilliam, have a care
Fallen is your star, low.
Up with halberd out with sword
On we'll go for by the lord
Fiach MacHugh has given the word,
Follow me up to Carlow.
See the swords of Glen Imayle,
They flash all o'er the English pale,
See all the children of the Gael,
Beneath O'Byrne's banners
Rooster of the fighting stock,
Would you let a Saxon cock
Crow out upon an Irish rock?
Fly up and we'll teach him manners.
Curse and swear Lord Kildare,
Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now FitzWilliam, have a care
Fallen is your star, low.
Up with halberd out with sword
On we'll go for by the lord
Fiach MacHugh has given the word,
Follow me up to Carlow.
Curse and swear Lord Kildare,
Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now FitzWilliam, have a care
Fallen is your star, low.
Up with halberd out with sword
On we'll go for by the lord
Fiach MacHugh has given the word,
Follow me up to Carlow.
МакКахир, Кавано, внемли,
К нам снова саксы в дом пришли,
Давно ль тебя согнал с земли
Том ФицВилльям Черный?
Артур Грей пошел на штурм,
Он ждал побед да жирных кур,
Пока в долине Гленмалюр
Не встретился с О'Берном.
Припев:
Верь не верь, лорд Килдэр,
А не зря клялся О'Берн
Выкинуть тебя за дверь
С ФицВилльямом старым.
С алебардой и мечом
Мы шагаем за вождем,
Фэй МакХью сказал "Идем,
Все за мною в Карлоу!"
Все роды Виклоуских гор -
Кавано, Тулли и О'Мор
Вступить решили с Греем в спор
Под знаменем О'Берна.
Ирландец, ты с мечом знаком,
И твердо знаешь свой закон,
Что попран саксом-чужаком.
Пусть суд твой будет скорым!
От Тассагара на восток
Английской крови тек поток,
Ведь Оуэни О'Мор жесток
К проклятым англичанам.
Грей смят, разбит и побежден,
Теперь ФицВилльяма возьмем
На пики, а башку пошлем
Элизабет и дамам
