- The grief for four hath confused me,
My eyes do not conceal my weeping,
Still the grief is more oppressive in my breast,
Which becomes more intense every day.- It is on account of four who have been taken away for ever,
And I every day lamenting them;
The continued testimony of grief is torturing me,
My health in future will decline.- The loss of those good men is felt by their kindred,
Four who could not be taken prisoners in the battle;
Since their bodies have been interred in the earth
It will be bad for us not to follow them.- They were the sons of princes who took the hold;
From spring no payment is made to the people;
Summer gave us no hand (i. e., relief);
We are sorrowful, we are pained for the clan.
- Thou art badly off after
The four that lie under the tombstone;
We have not incitement to battle, pledges or conflicts;
But we are only alive without gaining fame.- After the two Ranalds had departed from us,
Without being sent to learn of a prophet,
The death of Donald was melancholy at the time,
We are equally grieved for John.- The four falcons of the land of Conn
Are stretched under stones in the church;
The wood has not yielded so much fruit
Since the death of the noble descendants of Fionn.- Four scions of the greenwood
From Teamhair of the pure robes at the Boyne;
The pure ones of Ile having gone to their graves
The hosts of our country are in excessive sorrow.- The four lions of the territory of Brigia
Who were supporters of the strangers at our schools;
Beautiful trees overshading in our close woods,
A wood of trees in which the cattle were protected.- The water is frozen despite of our summer's sun,
Through Ranald's death, which is a part of our misfortune;
Too manifest is every pleasure declining,
The harp bewails the son of Allan.- Our heroes are never silent.
Their grief is reducing their size;
The gem of our military weapons is under the sod,
On account of Ranald Og having died from amongst us.- No fruit is found in the wood,
No produce is driven in by the wave;
On account of the son of Angus having departed from us,
It has put dry blisters on every slender hand.- John, son of Allan, departed this life from us,
A very ready hand who was powerful in the pursuit,
And we followed him in every step.
In close conflict, we are now in a demented state of sorrow.- No time was allowed to pass without making known
The death to all persons as soon as they heard it,
Our hosts conveyed it as a message.
Around the grave they clapped their hands.
- The generous men have departed from ourselves,
The learned men receive no rewards after them,
They brought the hospitality with them into the grave,
The victory of battle, and the sway of the good sense of all.- Tears on their account come in floods,
We are unwilling to compose their elegy,
Very little obedience is yielded by the people after them;
Our beautiful wood in the earth in the church-yard.- After the sadness of the excited sorrow
No one is called to the chase;
My tribute of grief attends me to beguile me,
As if it were now I went to my trade.- A cluster of carbuncles of precious stones —
Illiberality about gold they did not practise;
In every part of Scotland, alas!
A pen-drop of my lamentation is not decreased.- Such sorrow as this which has taken root
Should now be stated by us,
A ship having met with a stumbling wave at Banba,
That concerning the sons uf Uisneach, wondrous, fair.- They were killed by Conchobar, the mild, the free,
Through rude jealousy in drinking;
The sons of Uisneach, the powerful heirs presumptive,
A story by which Banba acquired her sorrow.- Naoisi, Ainli, and Ardan the generous,
Were slain in the thick of the battle;
That brought a great deal of pain and anguish
Unto Ireland both east and west.- To-day throughout the Hebrides
There is much of this lamentation of the plain of the Fians;
Every day in its full entirety increases
Our deep melancholy by a degree.- Without the aid of chords in musical harps
The grief which is in our country is expressed;
With deep sorrow the clergy remember
In a degree exceeding that of the bond maid of Ireland.- The death of the sons of Ranald is melancholy.
On which account our opposition at the shore is feeble;
Like the moaning of a flood towards the strand
Is our lamentation because they have all fled from us.
- The balsam which brought healing over the land
Oh! that we had it, alas!
From the bountiful wood in which the learned got it,
That a drop might be in the mouth of every good man of them.- The Daghda having fled to every quarter,
Brought cures into all places along in his track;
Unto us it was not so, without deception.
To covet the art of fierce wounding hand.- The heroes of the Clann of Conn have departed.
With severe grief we lament them in our breasts.
After them we cannot be longlived.
It is dangerous for us to be separated from the party.- Their garments were not refused to the clergy,
Their steeds or chains of gold;
Having abandoned their feathers they are under earth,
To be after them is lasting sorrow.- They were lightly covered in the earth,
Without an expectation of produce by the people;
In like manner the woods are unproductive at top,
The fruit does not bend the united branches.- By their death the strand is not productive,
The storm moans with grating tones;
There is little pleasure while drinking at
The feast of sorrow which has happened in our country.- There is a sound of wailing in the mountain rivers,
A voice of crying in the notes of birds,
The net derives no profit from the pool,
The storm has destroyed the corn and grass.- Dry weather is not known in our country,
The grief is depriving me of my senses;
The lamentation of the schools has gone beyond concealment
Since the clergy have assumed their mourning garments.- Our rivers are without profitable fishing,
We are without hunting in the winding glens
There is little produce in all the land,
The wave has stripped it bare to the bases of the bens.- The waves never cease roaring on the shore,
Every sea is without driving its produce on its strand;
When taking wine at the time of drinking,
The warriors grieve more than the women.
- The cold of the Invers is enough to wound us,
The gray birds have no opportunity of feeding;
Every river is fordable being full of ice-flags,
The trout does not attempt to swim on account of the frost.- The wolves are truly ill-disposed,
The notes of the cuckoo are not heard,
The wind has assumed a maddened force,
The rivers run over the heath carrying away the banks.- On account of the Clann Ranald having departed from us
We cannot pursue our studies;
it is time for the Ollamh (doctor) to go after them,
Making presents will be discontinued.- The end of our converse is away from us under the sod,
Our organs and our echoing sounds;
A party who freely bestowed jewels,
They were a flock that sprang from one seed.- From us departed unto God
Our pillars of valour in the fight,
They were always good men as you know,
Their fame liveth for ever.- May the grace of the father from the abode beyond
Convey me over to heaven,
He is a personage difficult of access,
The will of the Lord is best to guide me.The grief for four, &c.