Do loiscceadh meisi sa Mhuaidh

(Ó Gnímh, 1586)

Scalded have I been in the Moy
Though far away-cruel agony-
On that day of my suffering I had no excape-
Though strange my burning water.

Afther flooding with great billows
Of chill water widdershins
As if the water boiled-
The river has felled me, though still living…

The great water of the flood
Has burned us with one man’s death-
Our shelter from the sting of the Goill,
Now Domhnaill is our scald, torture.

Our eternal death wile alive,
The destruction of all by one death-mist,
Coming with the slaying of Domhnaill Gorm,
Now Donmhnaill is our scald, our torture.

Our eternal death while alive,
The destruction of all by one death-mist,
Coming with the slaying of Domhnall Gorm,
The noble ring-fence of our protection.

Our settler on the land, and our guide,
Our shiled between ourselves and discord,
Our rock-bulwark, our protecting tree,
Is now our banishment from Heaven.



 

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