Taín bó cuailgne

by Cruachan

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 handsfour 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

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