Literal Translation of the Poems
His purple robe of kingly state
much its (sight) puts me in grief,
No one took it away from him
after that he had taken weapons to brandish them.
He himself on the floor of the house,
and his hand since it has been cut off,
and his spear, into a hero he thrust it,
and his head in the hand of Conor.
And his sword, heavy, hard-striking, stout,
took Conor from him in the distance;
and his shield there where it fell from him
for the defence of his people.
Three times fifty warriors round him—
'Tis sad that they all went for nothing.
Great their sighs when he took them;
while they defended him they are fallen.
He himself was a hero—it is no lie—
he distributed much treasure;
Not a little thing it is that he has fallen for
while he defended his people.
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