A blessing upon the soul of Ireland,
island of the faltering steps;
methinks Brian´s Home of the soft voices
is pregnant with sorrow.

The same as the death of Fodla
is the suppression of her right and her faith,
the degradation of her free sons
and her scholars, if lays or letters are true.

It were hard for Banbha not to die
after that gallant company of champions
who went journeying to Spain -
alas for the princes of Ulster!

Fear of the foreign law does not permit me
to tell her sore plight;
this smooth land of royal Niall
is being washed with innocent blood.

In her is no love of feast-days, no,
nor no recourse to the clergy:
the mirth of her bardic companies is no more,
the modesty of her maids is no more.

They are without activity or casting,
a hard bondage (?) for Ireland,
without success or wealth of warriors
in Feilim´s white-sodded Isle.

Alas for the ruin of the youths,
a noble-handed troop of valorous feats:
hard drinking subdues their sense,
that is the characteristic of all.

The race of Conall is no more,
a company that was most eager for fame,
nor the seed of Eoghan of the strokes -
to the men of Ireland it is a disgrace.

Only a remnant remains of the blood
of the Earls from Seanaid,
the warriors of the Maigue and of Mein -
alas for the flower of the Geraldines.

The MacCarthys without a leader -
great are the pains to tell -
here are the cruel storms -
it were perilous to mention it.

It were a great mass of forgetfulness
not to tell of ancient Blod´s noble stock,
triumphant heroes free from evil instincts,
though esteem for them returns no more.

O Ruairc and Maguidhir, warriors who
never shirked danger - treacherous is the heart
of the trembling host - the overwhelming
of them is to me but a passing drop (?).

The O´Connors - a hard saying -
Kings of Connacht of old,
though the princes are a noble gathering,
they have no kingdom but misfortune.

The race of Murchadh, and O´More,
a champion who was valiant in battles -
rare is one of that noble young race
that holds a single sod of their lands.

The seed of the nobles from Bearra,
warriors who refused no fight,
have bewildered my path (they and)
O´Carrol and O´Kelly.

That owing to the death of her nobility
and her courts she cannot recover
from the stigma, if we dared to proclaim it,
it is an infamy to the race of the Gael.

By the evil eye of Balar
her fair cornfield is blighted,
her corn is without blossom on the ground -
a blessing be upon her soul.