Unique Word Count: 76
Music composed by: Seán Óg Ó Tuama
Words written by: Collected from Seán Óg Ó Tuama
Lyrics:
Tráth chuala Héaród, bhí laige is gruaim air,
Gur rugadh an Rí a bhéarfadh bua air
In onóir, in uaisleacht, i gcumhacht 's i méadacht,
Do líon lán channcar fuatha 's éada é
Is nach trua san.
Ba ghearr go dtáinig an t–aingeal 'na dhéidh sin
Agus labhair go modhail leis an Fhaoilinn déidghil,
'Ó! caithfidh sibh teitheadh le chéile go hÉigipt,
Nó is gairid go gcluine sibh feall is éigeart',
Is nach trua san.
D'imigh an Triúr ar shiúl na hoíche,
An Naomh, an Mhaighdean agus Rí na Ríthe,
Gan charaid, gan stór, gan ór, gan éadáil,
Ach Rí na bhFlaitheaas, an Lean(a)bhán gléigeal,
Is nach trua san.
Machine Translation:
When Herod heard, he was weak and gloomy,
That the King was born who would triumph over him
In honor, in nobility, in power and in greatness,
He was filled with all kinds of hatred and hatred
And what a pity that was.
Soon after that the angel came
And spoke gently to the poor Faolinn,
'Oh! you must flee together to Egypt,
Or you will soon hear of treachery and injustice',
And what a pity that was.
The Three went away in the night,
The Saint, the Virgin and the King of Kings,
Without friend, without treasure, without gold, without possession,
But the King of Heaven, the fair white Child,
And what a pity that was.
Notes: There’s an arrangement of this song, by Éamonn Ó Gallchobhair, on page 43 of the book ‘Ceol na Nollag’ (Cló Chaisil, 2002).