Bogaid ó bhile go bile
Éiníní geala an tráthnóna
Gluaiseann Tríot
Cromann géag
Séideann gaoth
Nach socair a ngreim!
Ní thitid riamh
Má eitlíonn Uait
Is Ortsa a thuirlingeoidh
An neart atá iontu!
Buaileann Clog an Aingil
From tree to tree they move
Bright birds of evening
Moving through You
A branch bends
The wind blows
They never fall
Should they fly away from You
In You again they rest
Such strength they own!
The Angelus bell rings