Chosen maiden, face full of coolness Adam's descendents praise your beauty Your tresses, my pearl, heart of poetry And your forever generous heart Your face like the sun at a luminous dawn That drowns all sadness with laughter What a pity, my love, that we're not together In the fort of Cian Mac Cáinte
The pain depresses me and I can't sleep Because of your beauty, the beauty of your limbs And you are my chosen of all of the provinces of Ireland Which I cannot deny Oh star without blemish, if you'd come with me How happy we'd be, how vigorous I'd bring you flour, mead and berries To the Hills of Cian Mac Cáinte
Pleasant woman of the resplendent tresses Come at once to live with me When the nobles, the clergy and the peasants Are all asleep in their beds We'll be far to the north of all of them When the first rays of the sun break the morning And happily isolated, we'll have no worries In the fort of Cian Mac Cáinte
There is another translation: Click here which differs from the one I have posted.
The Air/Tune of the same name (Written much later) is as beautiful as the Poem
I am sorry I cannot email you this information as I do not give out my email addy, Nothing personal. I hope you understand. So I hope you pop back in! My Best Wishes to you however. Alba