In this small boat of bronze I’ve set sail on a journey beyond Towards a long destined fate
In my mind still echo the songs My mother Aoife used to sing
Of her life in anger The quest for revenge Of Cuchulainn rising Prevailed in the end Of their bond of blood The birth of their son Named Conlaoch
Of the day the time had come For my father to depart To leave behind his blissful life And break my mother’s heart
Thus on that day my father spoke:
“This ring I give you for our child As you raise him, train him well Scáthach will teach the feats, When he’s old enough to wear my ring, He must go out to seek his king
Yet, three geasa I will put on him:
First, He should not give way To any hero from this plane
Second, He should never tell his name Through fear to any warrior in this world
Third, To any man, however strong He should not refuse a fight
For the greatest warrior I want him to be, Even mightier and more fierce than me.”
And thus I was born and raised Like my father once had imposed With an iron hand I was trained In Scáthach’s feats of war
In my mind still echo the songs My mother Aoife used to sing
Of her life in anger The quest for revenge Of Cuchulainn rising Prevailed in the end Of their bond of blood, The birth of their son Named Conlaoch
I am Conlaoch!
Then when I was old enough For my thumb to fill the ring Tears sprang from my mother’s eyes As I asked her one last time to sing And wave me goodbye As I forever left the Isle of Skye
So Erin, here I come Cuchulainn’s only son, Rowing towards your sacred shores In this small boat of bronze With gilded oars