The Stars Stand Up In The Air

The stars stand up in the air
The sun and the moon are gone
The strand of its waters is bare,
And her sway is swept from the swan

The cuckoo was calling all day,
Hid in the branches above,
How my stórín* is fled away,
'Tis my grief that I gave her my love!

Three things through love I see -
Sorrow and sin and death -
And my mind reminding me
That this doom I breathe with my breath.

But sweeter than violin or lute
Is my love - and she left me behind.
I wish that all music were mute,
And I to all beauty were blind.

She's more shapely than the swan by the strand,
She's more radiant than grass after dew,
She's more fair than the stars where they stand -
'Tis my grieft that her ever I knew!

*stórín 'my love', 'my darling'

Anonymous (translated by Thomas MacDonagh)

From the Appletree Press title: A Little Book of Irish Verse .

Also from Appletree:
Appletree Book of Celtic Verse
A Little Book of Scottish Verse
A Little Book of English Verse .