O, O, arone, arone, Death of me, Woe!
Oh, white too and fair, and I black as the wet peats,
Black and ugly, so that even the deer know,
And Fior and Donn and all the dogs
Think me no more than a sheep, than the kye, ochan, ochone!
But oh, it's dead you are and drowned, Anam, my Soul!
And it's there you lie ... grey and still ... with ... and you laugh at me, maybe ...
And it may be you are the shadow only that will go if I leap at you!
... and hair like mine thick with dew ...
Or ... the kelpie ...