Though melodious to you each month (are the) pipers and horn-blowers, it is my open statement to you to-day I have heard melody sweeter far than these.
For Conor, the king, is melody pipers and blowers of horns, more melodious to me, renowned, enchanting the voice given out by the sons of Usnach.
Like the sound of the wave the voice of Naisi, it was a melodious sound, one to hearken to for ever, Ardan was a good barytone, the tenor of Aindle rang through the dwelling-place.
Naisi is laid in his tomb, sad was the protection that he got; the nation by which he was reared poured out the cup of poison by which he died.
Dear is Berthan, beautiful its lands, stately the men, though hilly the land, it is sorrowful that to-day I rise not to await the sons of Usnach.
Dear the mind, firm, upright, dear the youth, lofty, modest, after going with him through the dark wood dear the girding (?) at early morning.
Dear his gray eye, which women loved, it was evil-looking against enemies, after circuit of the wood (was) a noble assembly, dear the tenor through the dark wood.
I sleep not therefor, and I stain not my nails with red, joy comes not to my wakefulness, for the sons of Usnach return not.
The last line is the Egerton reading.
I sleep not for half the night on my bed, my mind wanders amidst clouds of thoughts, I eat not, nor smile.