The forest of the sea to which Ainnle would come, alas!
I leave for ever,
And Naos, on the sea-coast of Alban.
Glen Lay (Glen Luy?), I would sleep by its gentle murmur.
Fish and venison, and the fat of meat boiled,
Such would be my food in Glen Lay.
Glenmasan! High is its wild garlic, fair its branches.
I would sleep wakefully
Over the shaggy Invermasan.
Glen Etive! in which I raised my first house,