Who can you be my dear sweet maid
with your dancing darting violet eyes,
your clear white skin, the burning
blush on your lovely cheeks?
I think I have never seen such eyes,
not at Tír Eoghain nor at Dhún na nGall
Nor at any of the feasts in my father's court
have I seen such loveliness;
I wish to know you, auburn-hair,
dimple-cheek, sweet sly smile:
I desire with my heart to know your name.
Look to me, please, with your lovely eyes.
I will be kind. I will cherish you.