the Song of Amergin

I invoke the spirit of Ireland,
Much-coursed be the fertile sea,
Fertile be the fruit strewn mountains,
Fruit strewn be the showery wood,
Showery be the river of water-falls,
Of water-falls be the lake of deep pools,
Deep-pooled be the hill-top well,
A well of tribes be the assembly,
An assembly of kings be Tara,
Tara be the hill of the tribes,
The tribes be the sons of Mil,
Of Mil of the ships, the barks,
Let the lofty bark be Ireland,
Lofty Ireland, darkly sung,
An incantation of great cunning;
The great cunning of the wives of Bres,
the wives of Bres of Buaigne;
The great lady Ireland,
Eremon hath conquered her,
Ir, Eber have invoked for her,
I invoke the land of Ireland.
-Amergin, son of Mil, 5th century BC
Translation, unknown