Imreas m�r th�inig eidir na r�oghna,
Mar fh�och a d'fh�s �n d� chnoc s�,
Mar d�irt an tS�dh Mh�r go mb'fhearr f�in,
Faoi dh� go m�r n�n tS�dh Bheag.

"N� raibh t� ariamh chomh uasal linn,
I gc�im d�r orda�odh i dtuaith n�i gcill.
Beir uainn do chaint, n�l suairceas ann,
Coinnigh do chos is do l�mh uainn!"

An tr�th chruinnigh na sluaite bh� an bualadh teann,
Ar feadh na machaireacha anonn 's anall;
'S ni/l aon ariamh d�r ghluais �n mbinn
N�r chaill a cheann san �r sin.

"Parlaidh! Parlaidh! agus f�ilt�m daoibh,
Sin agaibh an namhaid � Charn Chlann Aoidh,
� bhinn �th Chluain na sluaite daoibh,
'S a ch�irde gr�dhach, b� p�irteach!"

Another version with translation

� imreas m�r th�inig idir na r�ona,
Mar fh�och a d'fh�s �n d� chnoc s�,
Mar d�irt an ts� mh�r go mb'fhearr � f�in,
Faoi dh�, faoi dh� n�'n ts� bheag.
"N� raibh t� ariamh chomh huasal
linn,
I gc�im dar orda�odh i dtuath n� (i) gcill,
Beir uaim do chaint, n�l suairceas ann,
Is coinnigh do chos is do l�mh uainn."

"Choiche n� bhfaighfidh sibh bua ar ch�ch,
Ar muir, ar t�r n� 'n iomarbh�,
B'fhearr an ch�dh 'bheith 'd�anamh s�th
N� f�gairt cogaidh i l�thair."
Tr�th chruinnigh na sluaite, bh� an
bualadh teann.
Ar feadh na machaireacha 'nonn
is anall,
's n� raibh aoinne ariamh dar ghluais on
mbinn,
N�r chaill a cheann san �r sin.

Is � sin an cath do chr�igh �r gcro�,
Na prionsa� s� ar gach taobh
Tuatha D� Danann ag teacht 'na scaoth'
's nach iontach saolta an t-�r sin.
Is ansin do cailleadh na r�the s�,
Na m�lte d�obh ar gach taobh
N� raibh ach bru�on do scrios an Traoi,
Le m�id an �ir an l� sin.

Pairl�, pairl�, a chairde gaoil,
Sin chugaibh �r namhaid �
Charn Chlann Aoidh,
� Bhinn Eachlainn an�os na
sluaite d�obh,
Is b�mis uile uile p�irteach.

At� siad anois is ariamh dh� r�,
An cogadh is l� go milleann a l�n,
Gur fearr an ts�th is measa dl�
N� bailte is t�ortha a bh�n�.
's� an t-�ad ar dt?s do dh�bir slua,
's chuir na m�lte i gcarcair chrua,
Is fearr an ch�ir bheith buan go deo,
N� br�ithre a ghr�osu in �rach.

English translation

 Oh, great strife came between the kings,
Feuds grew between their Hills, because
Big Hill folk spoke too well of themselves
While Small Hill burned beneath them.
"You can never share rights to our noble
lake.
Go into ranks by tribe or town.
Carry your blemish away from us.
Be happy to keep your hands and feet."

"You cannot always win every
fight
On lake, on land, when we contend.
It would be good if you made peace
instead of ordering wars in here."
Time to gather the hosts, make a striking force.
From throughout the plains, they come marching here.
It will never seem right to die for
hills,
Beheaded in that slaughter.

This is why battle pains our hearts:
With Hill princes on every side, and
Tuatha De Danann come in a swarm,
The slaughter is not surprising.
Then it is that the Hill kings lost
The thousands killed on every side.
There was no dwelling not destroyed
In all the killing that day.

"Parley, parley, oh friends and kin!
Our enemy from
Cairn Clann Aoidh,
Comes from Eachlainn Peak, up our
dead troops!"
Now everyone fights together.

Now noone ever will say twice,
"War isn't caused by too much pride."
Peace is as good as wars were bad.
The towns in both lands are rebuilding.
Envy first, then an eager host,
Then thousands prisoners in the grave --
Better eat words almost forever
Then have angry brothers on their biers.