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I shall not die for thee
Burnished mail and glittering helms, bright in the sunlight
Painted shields and the cries of the warriors
Straight spears and sharpened swords, the rumble of the chariots
All are hateful to me
I shall not die for thee

I shall not die for thee
To sit and pine for a maiden, and dream of the sadness of willows
Tasting not of life, eating dust, dreaming of Death
As a hermit, driven mad with love, haunts desolate
Places with none to see
I shall not die for thee

I shall not die for thee
I shall arise, and go into the feast, and sing
Playing my harp. I shall revel and make merry, eyeing the maidens
Straight and tall, with cascading hair
I shall laugh with the warriors
Deeply talking with the Bards and Filidhs of matters of importance
And take my Bard's Seat again
My hair will be combed by another
I shall not die for thee

"May the road rise to meet you"
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