I see a battle-A blonde man,
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with much blood about his belt,
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and a hero-halo 'Round his head,
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whole hosts he will destroy.
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His jaws are settled in a snarl,
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he wears a looped, red tunic,
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in thousands you will yield your heads,
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his form dragonish in the fray.
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A giant on the plain I see,
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doing battle with the host,
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holding in each of his two hands
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four gore ladened battle-axes.
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I see him hurling against that host,
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Two Gae-bolga and a spear,
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he towers on the battle field,
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in breastplate and red cloak.
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Across the bladed chariot wheel,
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the warped warrior deals death,
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that fair from I first beheld,
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melted to a mis-shape.
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I see him moving into the fray,
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take warning, watch him well,
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Cuchulainn, Suailtim's son!
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making dense massacre.
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The blood starts from warriors wounds,
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-total ruin, at his touch,
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torn corpses, women wailing,
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because of him-The Forge Hound
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Tain Bo Cuailgne
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| Cruachan |
