"My grief! my lands and my hunting; my grief! my three sure fighters;
Och! my grief! they are my sorrow, to fall far off by the Fianna.
"I knew by the great host of the Sidhe that were fighting over the dun,
giving battle to one another in the valleys of the air, that destruction
would put down my three.
"I knew by the noise of the voices of the Sidhe coming into my ears,
that a story of new sorrow was not far from me; it is your death it was
foretelling.
"I knew at the beginning of the day when my three good men went from me,
when I saw tears of blood on their cheeks, that they would not come back
to me as winners.
"I knew by the voice of the battle-crow over your dun every evening,
since you went from me comely and terrible, that misfortune and grief
were at hand.
"It is well I remember, my three strong ones, how often I used to be
telling you that if you would go to Ireland, I would not see the joy of
victory on your faces.
"I knew by the voice of the raven every morning since you went from me,
that your fall was sure and certain; that you would never come back to
your own country.
"I knew, my three great ones, by your forgetting the thongs of your
hounds, that you would not gain the day or escape from the treachery of
the Fianna.
"I knew, Candles of Valour, by the stream near the dun turning to blood
when you set out, that there would be treachery in Finn.
"I knew by the eagle coming every evening over the dun, that it would
not be long till I would hear a story of bad news of my three.
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