A spear thrown, my guts gushed, onto the cushions of my chariot
Unbowed, Undefeated
I will die on my feet
Born to Deichtine and Lugh, a demigod, rivaled only by a few
And an Ulster-born son, who'd leave his countrymen awe-stricken
By crushing my foes into submission
Even at only seven years of age
I felt an unknown strength, buried in my rage
Near Emain Macha that one day
I walked by a field where boys were playing
Fomentations forfeited their safety
My heart boomed like a baying hound begging for bloodshed
A hideous, metamorphosis, causing violence and victims
Three spears thrown, my companions killed
On the blood-soaked plain of Muirthemne
Unbowed, Undefeated
I will die on my feet
Later trained by Scáthach, a warrior, lady from across the lochs
And with Aífe had a son, who'd leave me later grief-stricken
In battle through grisly exhibition
Even at seventeen years of age
I fought and defeated every soldier sent my way
The Táin began eventually, I slaughtered Medb's men single-handedly
And awoke to my friends killed mercilessly
My heart boomed like a baying hound begging for bloodshed
A hideous, metamorphosis, creates carnage and corpses
The spears thrown, my end imminent
By the magic of Morrígan and Lugaid
Unbowed, Undefeated
I will die on my feet
Standing stone, please support me
Connla, my son, our banner would've been boundless
Ferdiad, my friend, our friendship was cherished
Lugh, my father, my glory was short-lived
Deichtine, my mother, my ardor great, my sorrows deep