The silver horned stag does traipse the land
From oceans to Mac LÍr's sea
Scanning the Land with the knowing eyes
He sees Her scars and roars loud
Echoing the pain She does feel
As man does inflict itself on a tired land
Her air does reek of noxious ga**es
Her hills be pits filled with dead waste
Her forests and Her soldiers vanished
Her temples once sacred now scarred
Cár imigh an t-each?
Cén áit na fir?
Cé t-ionad lucht bronnta na taisce?
Cén t-áithreabh na fleitithe?
Conas aoibhneas na bruÍnne a athghabháil?
Tá said marbh
"The Gael has brought ruin to my sister
Only Fódhla and Banbha still stay unscarred
By the savage greed has Ériú been battered
If She dies Her sisters will fade
I have cursed ye in the hope of ye changing
I one day hoped to show ye true life
I hoped one day to walk as man among ye
Instead of hiding in the hills as a stag I ride
I grieve for ye Tuatha d'Éireann
I grieve for ye my Sisters' who*es
Who sell and rape yourselves daily
To the highest bidder ye will be sold
First boy-child, then gold, now immortality
How can I still want to intervene?
For one thousand years ye have behaved the harlot
k**ing sacred white animals with ears scarlet
Now on hills as a sheep in the company of wolves
I still do wonder how I can fill the gulf
The void that became when you denied your gods
You pitiful Irish are now my lost cause"