Irish

Truagh liom gol deise go dian
ar th’uaigh, a shoicheallach shámh;
gach maidean is muirt im shuan
nuall ghuirt na lagbhan lán.

Go hailcneadh an fheartáin úd,
leachtán lér loiteadh an ród,
acht a ngníomh níor mhuidh do mhéad,
a ghéag do líon fuil san bhfód.

Do chodladh san gcillse thuas
dod charaid ní cuimse an cás;
do ré níor fionnadh a raon
do thaobh gur bioradh re bás.

D’Uíbh nGearailt, de bhorra-Bhaidhbh,
do hongadh an mbeartghlain mbúidh;
ar Dháil gCais do chuir a clann,
bann nár thais don truigh in úir.

English

Piteous is the pair loud wailing,
O’er thy tomb, sweet gentle one;
Nightmares in my sleep are caused by
Fainting ladies’ bitter shrieks.

Dragged to build that rocky death-mound
Flagstones muddied all the road,
But they failed to crush thy greatness,
Branch whose blood imbrues the sod.

Now thy sleep in southern churchyard
To thy friend brings boundless grief,
Rightly ne’er thy life was valued,
Till thy heart was pierced by death.

Badhbh for Geraldines with pride swelled,
Gracious birth by unction sained,
For Dál gCais she bore her children,
Fearless tread of foot to grave.