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