From Tóraíocht Dhiarmada agus Gráinne.  

Falling through the void,
Each last futile hope destroyed.
Crushed within the breast,
Every breath as laboured as the rest.
Contorted by the strain,
Every moment, rent with endless pain,
Discarded on the wasteland
Of this unforgiving Earth.

While contemptuous stars still burn
And indifferent spheres still turn,
Nothing will forestall
All the woe the Fates decree shall fall,
So, leave me here to lie
With my ill-used love, ordained to die,
Abandoned with our barren dreams,
Bereft of any worth.