Literal Translation of the Poems
Who is the hero that was better than Gerg?
What heather did not boil with wrath?
Where is the host that would not lament your death?
that would not break out into lamentation
for you without ceasing?
Sorrow for me to see you on your bed of death,
O beautiful, fair-haired Gerg!
O friend of hosts at all times,
sad it is for me that you are dead.
Before us in Glenn Geirg,
by Loch Ane and by Irard,
and by those springs in the south lands,
many were the women whose love you found.
You were a friend to every host;
each was obedient to your will;
dear to each was your friendly word;
it is certain that you were a good counsellor.
Great were your legal sentences,
stately your assemblies.
You were a king who showed kindness to your lords,
you were bloody in real war.
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