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When the Moon still was young and the mountains were tall |
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In the realm of the Tuatha De Danann, |
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My delight was the sound of the hammer and forge |
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Shaping bronze into weapons of war. |
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When the Heroes of Dawn put the ginats to the sword |
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Strong was Cuchulain and shining was Lugh |
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They would sing to the wind with a falcon at their fist |
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Hymns of Gaelic valor. |
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I remember the day when their ships filled the sea |
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And the emblems of Rome hid the sky, |
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When the ninth legion marched to subdue the Red Queen |
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And the sons of the Goddes Danann. |
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The the Heroes of Dawn put the Romans to the sword |
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Strong like Cuchulain and shining like Lugh |
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They would fight skyclad, and to please the Morrigan |
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Die for Gaelic valor. |
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Now the Moon's in eclipse and the skies breed a storm |
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O'er the realm of the Tuatha de Danann |
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My lament shall be heard for the fires ashen cold |
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And the anvils resounding no more. |
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Now the Heroes of Dawn sleep in mounds underground |
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Cuchulain forgotten - forgotten is Lugh, |
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Who shall sing to the wind, shed his tears to fill the sea |
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For the lost Gaelic valor? |
