The night that St Patrick went to his (Oisín’s) abode,

There was merriment, drinking and music,

To see Oisín of the Fianna,

For he has the finest speech.’



Oisín: ‘O cleric who sings the psalms,

To me your senses are numbed,

Won’t you listen a while to my story of the Fianna

Which you’ve never heard before?’



Pàdraig: ‘I will not listen a while to your story,

Of the Fianna that I’ve never heard,

With the taste of the psalms on my lips,

That is the most preferable music to me.’



Oisín: ‘If it was your psalms that were desired

By the Fianna of Ireland of the naked weapons,

O cleric, I would not think much

Of removing your head from you body.’



Pàdraig: ‘Woe to me, you are welcome!

We came on a journey to visit you (to ask),

What is the hardest fight the Fianna fought,

Since you were conceived of their race?’



Oisín: ‘We were one day hunting on the hill,

And the hunting never proved successful;

When we saw one thousand boats,

Having landed upon the shore.’



‘The son of the king of Scandinavia was there, vexed,

What is the point of concealing it?

He cannot be restrained from Finn, without taking

Finn’s young wife and his dog with him.’



‘Lord I would not give my wife

To any man under the sun,

And I will not give Bran* away till the end of time,

Or until death comes upon me myself.’



*Bran was the name of Fionn McCool’s dog.