Beansídhe, sing thy mournful dirge,
This song for the deceased.
"Teacht, mo chara,
Tá do chuid ama gar do."
How silent does she wander,
This spirit of unrest.
"Féach, mo chara,
Níl sé deacair bás."
There is no place for her here,
This realm where mortals dwell.
"O, mo chara,
Conas a bheidh siad ag caoineadh."
Once, she was of great beauty.
This has long since been changed.
"Agus mo chara,
Ní mór do anam eitilt anois."
~Translation~
(Sorry if it's not completely right)
Come, my friend,
Your time is nigh.
See, my friend,
It's not hard to die.
O my friend,
How they will cry.
And my friend,
Your soul must now fly.
YOU ARE READING
Faeries Born
PoetryA few poems about Faeries, and their lore. When are Faeries born? What do they do when we don't see them? What happens in the dunes? What is their darker side like? Please understand that while I have the "completed" box checked off, I will still p...
