In a quiet-water’d land, a land of roses, Stands Saint Kieran’s city fair, And the warriors of Erinn in their famous generations Slumber there.
There beneath the dewy hillside sleep the noblest Of the Clan of Conn, Each below his stone: his name in branching Ogham And the sacred knot thereon.
There they laid to rest the Seven Kings of Tara, There the sons of Cairbrè sleep-- Battle-banners of the Gael, that in Kieran’s plain of crosses Now their final hosting keep.
And in Clonmacnois they laid the men of Teffia, And right many a lord of Breagh; Deep the sod above Clan Creidè and Clan Connall, Kind in hall and fierce in fray.
Many and many a son of Conn the Hundred-Fighter In the red earth lies at rest; Many a blue eye of Clan Colman the turf covers, Many a swan-white breast.
May Day! delightful day! Bright colours play the vales along. Now wakes at morning’s slender ray, Wild and gay, the blackbird’s song.
Now comes the bird of dusty hue, The loud cuckoo, the summer-lover; Branching trees are thick with leaves; The bitter, evil time is over.
Swift horses gather nigh Where half dry the river goes; Tufted heather crowns the height; Weak and white the bogdown blows.
Corncrake sings from eve till morn, Deep in corn, a strenuous bard! Sings the virgin waterfall, White and tall, her one sweet word.
Loaded bees of little power Goodly flower-harvest win; Cattle roam with muddy flanks; Busy ants go out and in.
Through the wild harp of the wood Making music roars the gale-- Now it slumbers without motion, On the ocean sleeps the sail.
Men grow mighty in the May, Proud and gay the maidens grow; Fair is every wooded height, Fair and bright the plain below.
A bright shaft has smit the streams, With gold gleams the water-flag; Leaps the fish, and on the hills Ardour thrills the flying stag;
And you long to reach the courses Where the slim swift horses race, And the crowd is ranked applauding Deep about the meeting-place.
Carols loud the lark on high, Small and shy, his tireless lay, Singing in wildest, merriest mood Of delicate-hued, delightful May.
[5] I am much indebted to the beautiful prose translation of this song by Dr. Kuno Meyer which appears in _Ériu_ (the Journal of the School of Irish Learning), vol. i., Part ii. In my free poetic version an attempt has been made to render the rhyming and metrical effect of the original, which is believed to date from about the ninth century.