"Let us pass round Fodhla, Let men go by order From the lands in which we are, The provinces let us go round. From the spirited Sil-Muiredhaigh, Let us pass into the territory of Sean Ferghal, To the host of Breifne of ripened sense, It is time, though no slow passing. Chief King of Breifne of lasting sway Is O Ruairc, to whom the tributes of Connacht is due, The sub-kings of that region are not scarce With their chiefs around them. MacTighearnain of cloaks, Support of the fair Gaoidhil, The purchasers of the poets and their friend Is over the vehement Teallach Dunchadha. MacSamhradhain, knot of every strength, Over the illustrious Teallach Eachdhach; His land is not rendered ugly by the wind. MacConsnamha is over Clann-Chionaoith. MacCogadhain, circle of fame, Is over the noble Clann-Fearmaighe, Mag Dorchaidh, of no condemned law, Over the heroic Cinel-Luachain. The three chiefs of Dartraighe I shall name, And of Calraighe of the tribes, Their acquisitions have injured the slopes; O Finn the brave and O Cearbhaill. They do not go among the rabble at the feast, And the majestic Mag Flannchadha. Royal chieftains of rough incursions, O Raghallaigh of red arms, The sweet sound of his golden voice is heard Over the fine Muinter Maoilmordha. We would wish to tarry there awhile; For this land let us pass. Let us pass, may it be a passage of prosperity, On a visit to the race of Fergus, To the active people. To the prosperous race of Rudhraigh. Of Muinter Giollagain of plunders, O Cuinn is lord and captain; Mac Maoiliosa of fine horses Has his tributaries on Magh-Breacraighe. Mag Finnbhairr, delight his prosperity Over the pleasant Muinter-Geradhain; Mag Raghnaill is heard now Over the active Muinter Eolais. The gentle Muinter Maoilmiadhaigh Over Magh-nise of strong hostages: Good was the dividend acquired by wounds: Let us enumerate the chiefs of the tribes. Muinter-Fearghail, and not now In the sovereignity over the Clann-Feargius, Against every tribe they exert their venom: The O Cuinns are their seniors.