O gu sunndach mi air m'astar Falbh gu siubhlach le bheag airtneul Do a chomhrag ri Bonaparte 'S e bha bagairt air Righ deors' Illean chridheil, bitheamaid sunndach Seasaibh onoir ur duthcha Fhad's a mhaireas luaidh is fudar De rud chuireadh curam oirnn? Chan eil gealtachd nan gnuis-san Cha toir iad grunnd do luchd a'bhosd Luchd nan osan gearr 's nam feileadh Cota sgarlaid orr'mar eideadh Gum bu ghasd'iad an am eirigh - 'S iad nach geilleadh an deidh an leon Ann am Bruxelles a chaidh innse Gun robh Frangaich tigh'nn nam miltean: 'S cha bhreug huam gur h-i an fhirinn 'S iomadh fear bhios sint'gun deo Nam biodh againn, mar bu dual dhuinn Lann Chinn-Ilich air ar gualainn Sgoilteamaid an cinn gun cluasan Gam bualadh le smuais nan dorn Bonaparte I'm happy on my journey Travelling swiftly without flagging Heading off to do battle with Bonaparte He it was who threatened King George Brave lads, let's be merry Stand for the honour of your country As long as lead and powder last What could worry us? Cowardice is not in their countenance They will never give ground to the boasters Men of the short hose and the kilts With their uniforms of scarlet coats Splendid they were in attack - They would never yield though wounded In Brussels it was told That the French were coming in their thousands: I tell no lie but the truth Any a man will be stretched out without breath of life If we only had, as was hereditary to us The great broadsword with Islay-wrought hilt on our shoulders We'd split their heads to their ears Pounding them with the smashing of our fists