There is no leisure or joy for me in the assemblies of eastern Emain; there is no peace, nor pleasure, nor repose in beholding fine houses or splendid ornaments.
What, O Conor, of thee? for me only sorrow under lamentation hast thou prepared, such will be my life so long as it remains to me, thy love for me will not last.
The man who under heaven was fairest to me, the man who was so dear thou hast torn from me; great was the crime; so that I shall not see him until I die.
His absence is the cause of grief to me, the shape of the son of Usnach shows itself to me, a dark hill is above his white body which was desired before many things by me.
His ruddy cheeks, more beautiful than meadows (?), red lips, eyebrows of the colour of the chafer, his teeth shining like pearls, like noble colour of snow.
Well have I known his splendid garb among the warrior men of Alba; mantle of crimson, meet for an assembly, with a border of red gold.
His tunic of satin of costly price, on it a hundred pearls could be counted, goodly the number (lit. "a smooth number" ? a round number), for its embroidery had been used, it was bright, fifty ounces of findruine (i.e. white bronze).
A gold-hilted sword in his hand, two green spears with terrible points (?), a shield with border of yellow gold, and a boss of silver upon it.
Fair Fergus brought injury upon us when inducing us to cross the sea; he has sold his honour for ale, the glory of his high deeds is departed.
If there were upon this plain the warriors of Ulster in the presence of Conor, all of them would I give up without a struggle for the companionship of Naisi, the son of Usnach.