O mo dhuthaich' stu th'air m'aire

Uibhist chumhraidh ur anan gallan,

Far a faighte na daoin' uaisle,

Far 'm bu dual do Mha 'ic Ailein.



Tir a' mhurain, tir an eorna

Tir 's am pailt a h-uile seorsa

Far am bi na gillean oga

Gabhail oran 's 'g ol an lionna



Thig iad ugainn, carach, seolta

Gus ar mealladh far ar n-eolais;

Molaidh iad dhuinn Manitoba,

Duthaich fhuar gun ghual, gun mhoine.



Cha leig mi leas a bhith 'ga innse,

Nuair a ruigear, 'sann a chithear,

Samhradh goirid foghar sitheil,

Geamhradh fada na droch-shide



Nam biodh agam fhin de storas

Da dheis aodaich, paidhir bhrogan

Agus m'fharadh bhith 'nam phoca

'Sann air Uibhist dheanainn seoladh.



Oh My Country



O my country are on my mind

Fresh, fragrant Uist of the saplings,

Where the noble men are found

Who gave their hereditary allegiance to "Mac ic Ailein".



Land of seabed, land of barley

Land of abundance of every kind

Where the young lads will be

Singing songs and drinking beer



They will come to us cunning and wily

In order to entice us from our homes

They will praise Manitoba to us

A cold country with no coal and no peat!



I don't need to say

That when we reach it we'll see it

A short summer and a peaceful autumn

A long winter of bad weather.



If I had riches

A change of clothes and a pair of shoes

And my prayer in my pocket

It is to Uist that I would be sailing.