Táin Bó Cuailgne

I see a battle-A blonde man,

with much blood about his belt,

and a hero-halo 'Round his head,

whole hosts he will destroy.

His jaws are settled in a snarl,

he wears a looped,red tunic,

in thousands you will yield your heads,

his form dragonish in the fray.

A giant on the plain I see,

doing battle with the host,

holding in each of his two hands

four gore ladened battle-axes.

I see him hurling against that host,

Two Gae-bolga and a spear,

he towers on the battle field,

in breastplate and red cloak.

Across the bladed chariot wheel,

the warped warrior deals death,

that fair from I first beheld,

melted to a mis-shape.

I see him moving into the fray,

take warning,watch him well,

Cuchulainn,Suailtim's son!

making dense massacre.

The blood starts from warriors wounds,

-total ruin,at his touch,

torn corpses,women wailing,

because of him-The Forge Hound

Vyšlo na albech