I wish and I wish 
And I wish I were 
A golden bee 
In the blue of the air, 
Winging my way 
At the [shut]1 of day 
To the honey-marges 
Of Loch-ciuin-ban; 
Or a little green drake, 
Or a silver swan, 
Floating upon 
The Stream of Aili, 
And I to be swimming 
Gaily, gaily!

I wish and I wish 
And I wish I could be 
A bud on a branch 
Of the red-thorn tree 
That blows at the head 
Of Blanaid's Bed, 
And sheds a petal 
At every breath;
[Or a poppy-flower 
In the scented swath 
That the reapers reap 
In the hills of Easa, 
For sacrifice
To the dread Lúghnasa.]2

I wish and I wish 
It could come to pass
That I would be changed
To a leaf of grass,
Growing green
On Tulach-caoin,
Where Caoimhin and Conn
And Ciaran sleep,
And I to be rooted
Strong and deep
In the hearts of the Three
Who fell in slaughter
For love of Eilit,
The Druid's daughter.

If wishes [had wings]3
I would not stay, 
But [Wine]4 would wile 
My soul away; 
And [Love]5 would creep 
Into my sleep 
As soft as a dream 
At evenfall, 
When the crickets sing 
And the curlews call; 
And 'tis I would wake 
For no new morrow 
On the grey round 
Of this world of sorrow!