Marv eo Sinead e miz Gouere, miliadoù a dud a zo aet d'he obidoù, o lidañ ur ganerez varv da 56 bloaz.
Ur vaouez dispar, gloazet, kaset gant he zad d'an hunva da 13 vloaz, drailhet foto ar pap ganti, pevar bugel he doa ganet, met siwazh dezhi unan anezho oa oc'h en em zistruj da 17 vloaz. Rock, folk, konvertiset d'an islam, blev touzet aliees. Lavaret he doa en ur cd brav ken-ken, San Nos Nua : «pareañ a ra ar c'han hag ar sonennoù, n'eo ket dav bout kaner evit kanañ. Roit ar gomz d'ho kalon ha kanit ma kavit ar gerioù. Se an hini eo ar sean-nos : ene ar sonerezh an hini eo. Gwir sonerezh, soul bro Iwerzhon. Gloar da Jah».
Setu komzoù ar sonenn «Paddy's lament», planedenn pobl Iwerzhon da vat...
Well it's by the hush, me boys
And that's to mind your noise
And listen to poor Paddy's sad narration
I was by hunger stressed
And in poverty distressed
So I took a thought I'd leave
The Irish nation
Well I sold me horse and cow
My little pigs and sow
My father's farm of land
I then departed
And me sweetheart Bid McGee
I'm afraid I'll never see
For I left her there that morning
Broken-hearted
Here ye boys
Now take my advice
To America I'll have ye
Not be coming
There is nothing here but war
Where the murderin' cannons roar
And I wish I was at home
In dear old Dublin
Well meself and a hundred more
To America sailed o'er
Our fortunes to be making
We were thinkin'
When we got to yankee land
They put guns into our hands
Saying «Paddy, you must go
And fight for Lincoln»
General Meagher to us he said
If you get shot or lose your head
Every mother's son of youse
Will get a pension
Well in the war I lost me leg
And all I've now's a wooden peg
And by soul it is the truth
To you I mention
Well I think meself in luck
If I get fed on Indianbuck
And old Ireland is the country
I delight in
To the devil I would say
God curse Americay
For in truth I've had enough
Of your hard fightin'
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