Gesang aus Fingal

Weep on the rocks where the storm winds are raging,
Weep, O thou maiden of Inistore!
Bend over the waters thy lovely head;
Fairer are thou than the mountain spirit
When he at noon in the brightness of the sun
Touches the silence of Morven's height.
For he is fallen, thy true love lies defeated,
Slain by the might of Cuthulin's sword.
Never again will his valor inspire him
To sheathe his sword in the blood of princes.
Weep on the rocks where the storm winds are raging,
Weep, O thou maiden of Inistore!

Trenar, ah, Trenar the fair is dead!
Dead, O maiden of Inistore!
See his growling hound, they howl in his hall;
Trenar, ah, Trenar the fair is dead!
Dead, O maiden of Inistore!
His bow is unstrung and hangs in his castle;
Hushed, hushed silence is where deer once did wander

Weep on the rocks where the storm winds are raging,
Weep, O thou maiden of Inistore!



Ossian, Translated by Jean Lunn