# Arrane Ashoonagh Dy Vannin

Arrane Ashoonagh Dy Vannin is het volkslied van het Britse eiland Man. Het lied is in het Engels geschreven door William Henry Gill (1839-1923), de vertaling in Manx is gemaakt door John J. Kneen (1873-1939).

## TEKSTEN
### Versie in het Manx

    O Halloo nyn ghooie,
    O' Ch'liegeen ny s'bwaaie
    Ry gheddyn er ooir aalin Yee,
    Ta dt' Ardstoyl Reill Thie
    Myr Barrool er py hoie
    Dy reayl shin ayns seyrsnys as shee.
    Tra Gorree yn Dane
    Haink er traie ec y Lhane
    Son Ree Mannin v'eh er ny reih
    'S va creenaght veih Heose
    Er ny chur huggey neose
    Dy reill harrin lesh cairys as graih
    Ren nyn ayryn g'imraa
    Va Nooghyn shenn traa
    Yn Sushtal dy Hee fockley magh
    Shegin yeearree peccoil
    Myr far aileyn Vaal,
    Ve er ny chur mow son dy bragh.
    Vec ooasle yn Theihll
    Ayns creoighys tooilleil
    Ta traaue ooir as faarkey, Gow cree
    Ny jarrood yn fer mie
    Ta coadey 'n lught-thie
    Ren tooilleil liorish Logh Galilee.
    D'eiyr yn sterrm noon as noal
    Yn baatey beg moal
    Fo-harey hug Eh geay as keayn
    Trooid ooilley nyn ghaue
    Ta'n Saualtagh ec laue
    Dy choadey nyn Vannin veg veen.
    Lhig dorrinyn bra
    Troggal seose nyn goraa
    As brishey magh ayns ard arrane
    Ta nyn groink aalin glass
    Yn vooir cummal ass
    As coadey lught-thie as shioltane.
    Nyn Ellan fo-hee
    Cha boir noidyn ee
    Dy bishee nyn eeastyn as grain
    Nee'n Chiarn shin y reayll
    Voish strieughyn yn theihll
    As crooinnagh lesh shee 'n ashoon ain.
    Lhig dooin boggoil bee,
    Lesh annym as cree,
    As croghey er gialdyn yn Chiarn;
    Dy vodmayd dagh oor,
    Treish teil er e phooar,
    Dagh olk ass nyn anmeenyn 'hayrn.

### Engelse tekst

    O land of our birth,
    O gem of God's earth,
    O Island so strong and so fair;
    Built firm as Barrule,
    Thy Throne of Home Rule
    Make us free as thy sweet mountain air.
    When Orry, the Dane,
    In Mannin did reign,
    'Twas said he had come from above;
    For wisdom from Heav'n
    To him had been giv'n
    To rule us with justice and love.
    Our fathers have told
    How Saints came of old,
    Proclaiming the Gospel of Peace;
    That sinful desires,
    Like false Baal fires,
    Must die ere our troubles can cease.
    Ye sons of the soil,
    In hardship and toil,
    That plough both the land and the sea,
    Take heart while you can,
    And think of the Man
    Who toiled by the Lake Galilee.
    When fierce tempests smote
    That frail little boat,
    They ceased at His gentle command;
    Despite all our fear,
    The Saviour is near
    To safeguard our dear Fatherland.
    Let storm-winds rejoice,
    And lift up their voice,
    No danger our homes can befall;
    Our green hills and rocks
    Encircle our flocks,
    And keep out the sea like a wall.
    Our Island, thus blest, No foe can molest;
    Our grain and our fish shall increase;
    From battle and sword Protecteth the Lord,
    And crowneth our nation with peace.
    Then let us rejoice
    With heart, soul and voice,
    And in The Lord's promise confide;
    That each single hour
    We trust in His power,
    No evil our souls can betide.