I invoke the land of Ireland.
Much-coursed be the fertile sea;
Fertile be the fruit-strewn mountain;
Fruit-strewn be the showery wood;
Showery be the river of waterfalls;
Of waterfalls be the lake of deep pools;
Deep-pooled be the hill-top well;
A well of tribes be the assembly;
An assembly of kings be Temair;
Temair be a hill of tribes,
The tribes of the sons of Mil,
Of Mil of the ships, the barks.
Let the lofty bark be Ireland,
Lofty Ireland, darkly sung;
An incantation of great cunning,
The cunning of the wives of Bres,
The wives of Bres, of Buaigne.
The great lady Ireland,
Eremon hath conquered her,
Ir, Eber have invoked for her.
I invoke the land of Ireland.

Amergin



The following version is considerably less literal in its translation, that it may keep the ancient Irish rime scheme in which the end word of one lie rimes with the first word of the next.


Fain we ask Erinn,
Faring o'er ocean's
Motions to mountains,
Fountains and bowers,
Showers, rills rushing,
Gushing waves welling,
Swelling streams calling,
Falling foam-thunder,
Under lakes filling:
Willing - (abiding
Riding rounds, holding
Olden fairs meetly)-
Fleet to lift loyal
Royal kings towers
Bowers for crowning;
Frowning foes over -
Rover Mil's warlike
Starlike sons therein.
Erinn shall longer,
Stronger, show honour,
On our Milesians. -
Wishing, in trouble,
Noble isle's wooing,
Suing, we stay here; -
Pray here to sail in,
Wailing maids royal!
Loyal chief-leaders,
Pleaders, blend pray'r in.
So we seek Erinn-

Amergin

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