|Orin||Europa > Rouantelezh-Unanet > Bro-Skos|
|Tonegezh||Mi bouc’h major|
Is there for honest poverty That hings his head, an a' that? The coward slave, we pass him by - We dare be poor for a that! For a' that, an a' that! Our toils obscure, an a' that, The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that. What though on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodden grey, an a' that? Gie fools their skills, and knaves their wine - A man's a man for a' that. For a' that, an a' that, Their tinsel show, an a' that, The honest man, tho e'er sae poor, Is king o men for a' that. Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord, Wha struts, an stares, an a' that? Tho hundreds worship at his word, He's but a cuif for a' that. For a' that, an a' that, His ribband, star, an a' that, The man o independent mind, He looks an laughs at a' that. A prince can mak a belted knight, A marquis, duke, an a' that! But an honest man's aboon his might - Guid faith, he mauna fa' that! For a' that, an a' that, Their dignities, an a' that, The pith o sense an pride o worth, Are higher rank than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may (As come it will for a' that), That Sense and Worth o'er a' the earth, Shall bear the gree an a' that. For a' that, an a' that, It's coming yet for a' that, That man to man, the world, o'er Shall brithers be for a' that.
Ar skridou muzik zo var ar sit-mañ ’peus moaien pellkargañ evid netra ; koulskoude, an toniou ha ne teuont ket deuz ar bobl a hell bea dindan gwirioù-eilañ.
Ma kav deoh zo eur skridoù-sonerezh ha n’eo ket ba e leh war al lec’hienn-mañ, skrivet din ha me a lamo aneañ dioustu.