- O Suibhne from lofty Sliabh na nEach,
thou of the rough blade wert given to wounding;
for Christ's sake, who hath put thee in bon dage,
grant converse with thy foster-brother.
- Hearken to me if thou hearest me,
O splendid king, O great prince,
so that I may relate gently
to thee tidings of thy good land.
- There is life for none in thy land after thee;
it is to tell of it that I have come;
dead is thy renowned brother there,
dead thy father and thy mother.
- If my gentle mother be dead,
harder is it for me to go to my land;
'tis long since she has loved my body;
she has ceased to pity me.
- Foolish the counsel of each wild youth
whose elders live not;
like unto a branch bowed under nuts;
whoso is brotherless has a gaping side.
- There is another calamity there
which is bewailed by the men of Erin,
though uncouth be thy side and thy foot,
dead is thy fair wife of grief for thee.
- For a household to be without a wife
is rowing a rudderless boat,
'tis a garb of feathers to the skin,
'tis kindling a single fire.
- I have heard a fearful and loud tale
around which was a clear, fierce wail,
'tis a fist round smoke, however,
thou art without sister, O Suibhne.
- A proverb this, bitter the ... -
it has no delight for me
the mild sun rests on every ditch,
a sister loves though she be not loved.
- Calves are not let to cows
amongst us in cold Araidhe
since thy gentle daughter, who has loved thee, died,
likewise thy sister's son.
- My sister's son and my hound,
they would not forsake me for wealth
'tis adding loss to sorrow;
the heart's needle is an only daughter.
- There is another famous story
loth am I to tell it
meetly are the men of the Arada
bewailing thy only son.
- That is the renowned drop (?)
which brings a man to the ground,
that his little son who used to say daddy
should be without life.
- It has called me to thee from the tree,
scarce have I caused enmity,
I cannot bear up against the blow
since I heard the tidings of my only son.
- Since thou hast come, O splendid warrior,
within Loingseachan's hands,
all thy folk are alive,
O scion of Eochu Salbuidhe.
- Be still, let thy sense come,
in the east is thy house, not in the west,
far from thy land thou hast come hither,
this is the truth, O Suibhne.
- More delightful deemest thou to be amongst deer
in woods and forests
than sleeping in thy stronghold in the east
on a bed of down.
- Better deemest thou to be on a holly-branch
beside the swift mill's pond
than to be in choice company
with young fellows about thee.
- If thou wert to sleep in the bosom of hills
to the soft strings of lutes,
more sweet wouldst thou deem under the oak-wood
the belling of the brown stag of the herd.
- Thou art fleeter than the wind across the valley,
thou art the famous madman of Erin,
brilliant in thy beauty, come hither,
O Suibhne, thou wast a noble champion.