The Fair Isle of Emain…

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A far distant isle

lies in leagues fifty-thrice

over the ocean to the west

larger than Albion, twice.

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Many faceted Emain

encircled by sea

rises from tide into sky

its ever wondrous beauty.

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On the fair isle of Emain

a hoary tree grows

its silver-laced branches

blossom like no-one yet knows.

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Multi-hued birds

sing within the tree tops

on a white-silver plain

do dragon-stones drop.

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Unheard is wailing

as sweet-music strikes ear

it issues through Emain

and banishes all fear.

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A band of nine women

come down from a height

over variegate plains

to the seaside, pure-white.

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 Onward they run

to a stone shining-bright

for about it to dance

raising songs in the night.

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The pure man arrives there

 rowing in on the flood

stirring the ocean

as sun turns to blood.

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At dawn he arises

a delight to sore eyes

his coracle of bronze

illuminating blue skies.

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 A splendour of colour

glistens in the land

spreads its glorious range

over a sea-washed sand.

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The host he brings with him

for long ages stay

their beauty in freshness

knows not death nor decay.

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In happiness and health now

their laughter peals loud

on Emain in each season

reigns joyousness proud.

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My song to you all then

still in strife and in pain

you must voyage on the ocean

to the fair isle of Emain.

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