Hunting through the woods of Cypros
went Adonis with his helpers -
swiftly ran the deer he hunted,
swiftly followed Smyrna's son:
a thrilling chase, an offering to Ares,
a feast with friends was all he had in mind.

Then, ascending from the ocean,
Aphrodite raised her beauty
o'er the waves into the spirit
and from there into the veins;
the deer, the hunt, the off'ring was forgotten,
and with a sigh Adonis dropped his spear.

Black as raving flocks of ravens
flew her hair across the aether,
white as swans, on rivers dancing,
rose her body from the sea,
and pink as wild flamingoes' moistened plumage
invitingly her lips were open wide.

Red as blood her mouth smiled fire,
blue as lakes her eyes smiled passion,
mighty and erect stood Eos
on Olympus and his twin;
between the lofty pillars of her temple
he saw the salty water dripping down.

On his knees fell young Adonis,
while his love for her was rising -
such a perfect face and body
no one's ever seen before;
bewitched he entered Aphrodite's temple
to sacrifice to her in Ares' place.

After he had brought his off'ring,
Aphrodite's temple servant
rubbed her tiny breasts against his
restless chest and held him tight,
and soon they both were lying on the altar,
enjoying every inch of lovers' skin.

'Strength is what you need, endurance
and the mildness of a lion,
will you satisfy the Goddess',
said the servant, out of breath;
'tonight she will await you on Mount Ida,
if you fulfil her task before the night!

'Love the seven girls of Hellas
that outshine all other beauties -
then she'll give herself, though Ares
will not let you get away;
you'll die when loving her, but in the flower
of lovers you will live for evermore!'

Smilingly she gave a ribbon
to Adonis, made of satin,
twisted it around his flowing
hair and whispered with a kiss:
'Your powers always will be concentrated
in any limb this band is tied around.' -

Still the morning sun shone brightly
o'er the blooming Grecian pastures;
Psyche waited on the mountain
for her lover, for the night -
she never saw the form, the smile of Eros,
but always longed for his exciting touch.

Bluest eyes gazed at the distance,
and her yearning face surrounded
golden curls that loosely covered
shape and fullness of her breasts;
her crimson lips were twitching with emotion,
as she anticipated night and love.

Then Adonis came and kissed her,
and he pressed her to his pelvis:
'I have never seen your beauty,
and you never looked at mine;
I couldn't wait to see you any longer,
I had to set my eyes on whom I love!'

Psyche squeezed him even tighter,
and her trembling lips discovered
every secret of her lover,
every pore and every vein;
entwined they sank into the grass, and Helos
observed the deeds Selene saw before.

Drowned in sweat they held each other,
shaking with each other's heartbeat;
finally their bodies parted,
and Adonis said farewell.
So Psyche kissed him once again: 'Be careful
that Eros doesn't see you when you leave.' -

Daphne gently stroked her lover's
fair blonde hair and kissed her forehead,
kissed her cheek, her neck and shoulders,
kissed her pale and shiv'ring breasts;
she sighed with passion, and she said to Daphne:
'What do you want? What do you want right now?'

Daphne touched her hip most softly,
softly in her ear she whispered:
'I would love to have a satyr
as a viewer and a pet!
I'd chain him to a tree: he'd have to watch us
and witness pleasures he shall never know!'

Stepping forward from the bushes
came Adonis, and he told her:
'I shall go and catch a satyr,
if you'll give me a reward.'
'I offer you my labial diamond chatelaine,
I even offer you my lover's love!'

'Keep your jewellery, dark siren,
keep the love of your sweet lover;
I'll take nothing else buy only,
gracile maid, your own sweet love!'
'I promise anything you want, provided
you bring him here before the sun declines.'

Gaily dancing in the forest
was the crowd of nymphs and satyrs,
in the middle sat Silenus,
watching them and drinking wine;
around his wrist Adonis tied the ribbon,
approached the satyrs, and he said to one:

'Daphne seeks the perfect lover
for tonight: he must be handsome,
very strong and as enduring
as the girls she had before.' -
'My dreams come true! She'll never touch a woman
again when I have taught her how to love!'

'But the mistress wants you helpless,
as she likes to be in power;
therefore I will have to bind you -
this is part of Daphne's game!'
The satyr put his arms behind his kid-back
and let Adonis tie him with a rope.

When the satyr was delivered
and Adonis claimed his payment,
Daphne laughed: 'You know exactly
that I'll never love a man!'
Adonis freed the palpitating satyr,
and with the rope he tied her to the ground. –

In the Calydonian valley,
copper-haired, with eyes of hazel,
stood the huntress Atalanta,
tallest of the Amazons,
with slender legs as white and long as birches,
the slimmest waistline and the broadest hips.

Resting on her spear she waited
for the stranger who approached her,
every muscle in her body
was prepared to start the race:
'You come to challenge me? I was ne'er beaten -
the prize is high: my hymen or your life!'

Soon Adonis reached the meadow
with the ribbon round his ankle,
and he told the handsome virgin
he was ready for the race.
'I'll meet you at the brook', said Atalanta,
'and either winner there shall claim his prize!'

At the brook Adonis waited,
gaping at her lean appearance
and her wide and graceful paces,
as he picked a little bunch;
her breasts stood firmly like the apples of the
Hesperides and glistened in the sun.

With a winning smile Adonis
gave the flowers to the huntress,
but she said: 'A girl should never
take a flower from a man;
you court, and with your flowers you deflower,
you run, and with your strength you weaken us!'

Atalanta took the flowers,
threw them on the ground and grabbed him,
pressed his head against her bosom
and his breast against her lap:
'You challenged and defeated me - now have me,
and pray you'll love as grandly as you run!' -

Agamemnon's land lay peaceful,
and the lake was calm and quiet;
in its waters bathed Rhodopsis,
his Egyptian courtesan,
when suddenly an eagle took her sandal
and spread his mighty wings and flew away.

Blackest blackness was her colour:
she had eyes as black as midnight,
she had hair as black as ravens,
skin as black as ebony,
and smooth and shiny was her hairless body
and wet as she ascended from the lake.

Then Adonis came and saw her
sitting at the beach in anger,
and the girl's amazing blackness
was contrasted only by
the whiteness of her teeth, around her iris,
her purple peaks, the pinkness of her lips.

'Anger does not go with beauty',
said Adonis as he timely
found the willowy enchantress,
'tell me, what is wrong with you?'
'An eagle took my sandal, and the pebbles
will cut my feet when I am going home.'

'I will carry you', he answered,
and he lifted her with caution,
and he felt her glowing body,
felt her soft skin on his arms;
her luring smell confused his tangled senses,
her tempting sight consumed his dazzled mind.

With her slender arms around his
neck he walked across the pebbles -
as he reached the end, he smoothly
sat her down upon the lawn;
she drew him down to her between the daisies
and wrapped her satin thighs around his waist. –

'Look, at last here comes Adonis',
said Cassandra to her sister;
'we awaited you, relying
on your most distinguished taste.
We'll love you in Apollo's holy temple,
so he may see what he can never get.'

There Cassandra took her sister's
clothes off while she kissed her shoulder,
and Polyxena undressed her
sister while she kissed her hips;
she kissed her groin, and, turning to Adonis,
they took his clothes and kissed his cheek and chest.

Soon their searching hands and fingers
found the treasures of his body;
everywhere he saw their figures,
everywhere he felt their lips -
he only guessed the parts his hands were grabbing,
his mouth was tasting every kind of skin.

Quivering he sighed with pleasure,
as he watched the wild two maidens'
slender limbs across his body,
full brown hair around his hips,
their snake-like moves, their mounting and dismounting,
their joy in tasting every single pore.

And he saw a breast above his
face, another touched his thigh; he
kissed Polyxena's red summit,
lying in Cassandra's lap -
they pressed and rubbed their skin against Adonis',
their hungry bodies covered every limb.

He was trembling, and, delighted
with their skilful way of loving,
he lay back and held the sisters
and caressed their scarlet buds:
'I have to leave; your beauty raised my spirits,
but now I'll meet the daughter of the Swan.'

'No! Don't leave us', begged Cassandra;
her green eyes grew large and watered,
and Polyxena embraced him
as he lingered at the door,
and, falling on her knees, she kissed Adonis -
her huge brown eyes were urging him to stay.

'You will die tonight, Adonis,
if you leave before the morning',
said Cassandra, but he answered:
'This I know, and this I want!
Tonight I'll love the Lady of the Ladies,
and therefore I shall live for evermore!' -

Menelaus' gardens blossomed;
sleeping in the cooling shadow
of an olive tree lay Helen,
while Adonis stood and watched.
He saw her godlike face, her skin of hazel,
he saw her bosom heaving as she dreamed.

For eternities he stood there
and adored her peerless beauty,
her divine, her blooming figure,
and admired her warm brown eyes
as Helen woke: 'What are you searching, stranger?'
'I'm looking for a beauty to match mine.'

'Here I am', said Helen softly,
and she rose before Adonis,
just a veil between their bodies,
just a breath between their lips;
they felt the heat, they both began to tremble -
they couldn't move, they couldn't say a word.

Helen's hands reached for the collar:
with a jerk she tore her tunic,
and before the stunned Adonis
stood her breasts like Spartan shields -
he touched them gently and he held them firmly,
he squeezed them roughly, and he kissed their buds.

And she showed him through the garden,
and Adonis spread her orchid,
drank the dewdrops from its petals,
fed her crimson Venus trap;
between her palm trees he discovered heaven,
he split her peach and tasted every fruit.

After he had smelt each flower,
she was dozing off beside him,
while he rose to leave. Another
time he looked at her; she turned,
she winked and smiled and put her arms around him,
and once again they shared the bliss of love. -

Night was falling on Mount Ida;
Aphrodite stood and waited
for her lover. Then her sparrow
flew to her and said: 'He's here!
Adonis comes, who'll always be remembered
by every future lover in the world!'

And Adonis saw her standing,
saw the splendour of the Goddess
lightening the mountain's darkness,
and her beauty took his breath;
he shivered strongly with excitement, knowing
that every inch of her would be his realm.

Tight she pressed him to her body,
and he clasped her breasts of silver,
and he kissed her, and she kissed him,
and her mouth was full of love;
while tenderly they grazed on passion's pastures,
Selene spread her everluring rays.

Aphrodite's whiteness glistened
in the mellow light. Adonis
watched her skin, her graceful movements,
drowning in her deep blue eyes;
he seized the night and gladly drank her beauty
with mouth and eyes until the cup was drained.

Snow was falling on Mount Ida:
white drops softly kept on flowing
down her raven-hair, her crimson
lips and down her cherry buds;
he rested on the pillow of her bosom,
where he declared his never-ending love.

'Never will I love again like
this one night', sighed Aphrodite.
Hidden in the royal oak wood,
Ares watched them from afar;
he changed his shape, and as a boar he darted
across and pierced Adonis with his tusk.

'Ton Adonin!', sang the flowers
and the trees of Priam's forest.
'Ton Adonin!', sang the maidens
and the grieving nymphs of Greece.
Selene veiled her face, and through the darkness
the plaintive song of Nature lingered on.

Aphrodite held Adonis
in her loving arms and kissed him,
and the tears that she was weeping
fell upon Adonis' wound;
his blood was flowing on the snow-white roses,
and red as blood they stayed until today.

1.

Oh lost! Oh lost! I nevermore will sing,
no more my lyre shall please another ear:
as she I played for is no longer here,
I'll never touch a body nor a string.

They took my love away from me to bring
her to the underworld, the place of fear.
They made her as a shadow disappear -
none of Life's seasons did she know but spring.

I'm rich - there was a lot for them to choose:
my house, my gardens and my art divine,
and none of those I'd be afraid to lose.

But as she's gone, no joy can e'er be mine -
as she has left me, I will leave my muse:
the magic of my lyre shall now decline.

2.

The magic of my lyre shall now decline,
her noble sound shall nevermore be heard
that made in silence listen man and bird
and turned the tears of sadness into wine.

The poet's magic is no longer mine
since greater evil powers have occurred,
powers that can't be fought by sword nor word
and that forbid the sun for me to shine.

The magic of my voice has now expired
that once sent golden shivers down your spine,
the singer from his business has retired.

As for my one and only love I pine,
the only one I ever have desired,
my trembling lips won't utter any line.

3.

My trembling lips won't utter any line
till they can sing to her I love once more,
till they can meet the lips I kissed before,
till in her arms my sorrow will decline.

These yearning hands will touch no food nor wine
till they can hold the lady I adore,
till once again her beauty they'll explore
before her longing flesh will melt in mine.

I served them well, so I don't understand
what caused the faithless deities to bring
such pain and grief to their devoted friend.

Whoever heard before of such a thing?
There is no other voice throughout this land
to praise a girl, a hero, god or king.

4.

To praise a girl, a hero, god or king,
your inspiration, power and good will
shall be accompanied by talent still,
so singers will enjoy hearing you sing.

Then Pegasus will take you on his wing
to where the noblest artists get their skill:
he'll stamp with force upon the holy hill
and open with his hoof the poet's spring.

He flies no more, and I don't want him to
as long as to the arms of Death you cling,
though no one else can sing the way I do.

For now my heart was stabbed by Hades' sting:
this cup of passion and of love to you,
oh lost! oh lost! I nevermore will bring.

5.

Oh lost! Oh lost! I nevermore will bring
to you my gifts of poetry and song:,
I only wish that they could be as strong
as those who drew you in their fiery ring.

Oh lost! Oh lost! My breast will never cling
again to breasts which quiver as they long
for lover's touch; how could they do so wrong
to him who of their glory once did sing?

I'll lay me down until my bones be stiff
and no more life be in this flesh of mine,
to be with you: without you I can't live.

If I could only hold again this shrine
of precious love, if I could only give
my kiss to lips as warm and sweet as wine.

6.

My kiss to lips as warm and sweet as wine
I'll bring again before the dawning day;
beside my lover I will always stay,
our lucky star for evermore will shine!

From all my earthly arts I shall resign,
as for my lady once again I'll play;
our timeless beauty will not fade away,
the power of our passion won't decline.

So come, sweet viper, let us go to sleep,
and while in peaceful dreams for her I pine,
your venom run into my body deep!

To Hades bring the burden of this shrine:
deliver now, no more to moan and weep,
my heart to one that is in need of mine.

7.

My heart to one that is in need of mine
won't come, for lack or surplus of respect
has caused my serpent servant to reject
her master's wish, and still I have to pine.

Why can I not receive this gift divine
to wax immortal by my death? In fact,
the jealous gods in any way neglect
the herald of their glory and their shine.

I praised them - in return they stole my wife,
and of the grace of those I shall not sing
who faithful artists of their song deprive.

No sacrifices neither pray'rs I'll bring
to those who took my love and spared my life;
no more to my beloved one I'll cling.

8.

No more to my beloved one I'll cling,
no more I'll look into her eyes so bright,
but with my weapon I'll put up the fight:
I'll get my lyre, and I will tune her string.

And once again the world shall hear me sing
the songs of gods - their mockery and spite,
their wickedness, their vice and great delight
in all the pain and sorrow that they bring.

Of their betrayal I will sing with fire,
of all the sufferings I have to bear
and all the tears of her whom I admire.

They will not let me sing of my despair,
but if they take from me my voice and lyre,
my music nevermore shall fill the air.

9.

My music nevermore shall fill the air
with marble temples or with golden rays
nor bring delight and laughter to the face
of him who listens, but why should I care?

The sound of music that fills now the air
uncovers all the malice and disgrace,
the cheating manners and the evil ways
of gods and heavens, but why should they care?

To Cerberus I'll sing a lullaby,
and as he sleeps, I will just like a thief
sneak to the underworld where her I'll spy.

Then I'll meet Hades, and before I'll leave
he has to let her go or tell me why
they took away from me my song-in-chief.

10.

They took away from me my song-in-chief
into your kingdom, and you still refuse
to let me join her; why do you abuse
your power thus to make me weep and grieve?

You know yourself how hard it is to leave
your lover, but at least you never lose
your wife forever - so that's no excuse,
although your yearly love affairs are brief.

It's me she's needing, and it's her I need,
so let my faithful beauty leave your care,
or let me stay here lying at her feet.

If still our separation we must bear,
at least allow me now and then to meet
my swan of swans, my rose of roses fair.

11.

My swan of swans, my rose of roses fair,
how long I longed to touch, beloved one,
your gracile body, how I longed to run
again my fingers through your golden hair.

We're free, my love: we can go anywhere,
so let's get out of here to face the sun -
forgotten be the harm that they have done
to us, and now our gladness they shall share!

Again the air is filled with cheerful sound
by him who leaves with you this cave of grief -
but notice that he must not turn around.

For if he turned his head - one moment brief -,
he'd lose again the happiness he found,
who neither knows submission nor relief.

12.

Who neither knows submission nor relief
until at last he gets you out of here
will go ahead, so you just follow near
till once again our freedom we'll receive.

There's no more tears and no more need to grieve
when from the shadows' vale we disappear
to see the sun, to meet our friends so dear
and live that second life we did achieve.

Let's go now, and if your beloved man
does not turn round, don't think he wouldn't care:
he'd have to leave his wife to Hades then.

If he looked back to see if you're still there,
the artist, losing everything again,
shall hide his art forever in despair.

13.

Shall hide his art forever in despair
the singer who is now restored to life?
With him the joyful love songs shall survive,
his lyre shall play again a merry air!

And she shall spread the tidings everywhere
that after all his struggle and his strife
her master is united with his wife,
his song of songs, his rose of roses fair!

Now look at Cerberus: he's still asleep.
Sweet dreams of Life and Love he may conceive
as he is resting there in slumber deep.

But still we have to cross the Styx to leave,
still one false move, and I'd be left to weep:
Oh lost! Oh lost! The world shall share my grief!

14.

Oh lost! Oh lost! The world shall share my grief
if at the gates of Hades we should fail -
I'm weak, my blood runs cold, my cheeks grow pale
to think our gladness we might not retrieve.

But none of that: our freedom we'll receive,
and over evil powers we'll prevail:
the Styx is silent, Charon sets the sail,
and for the better brighter world we leave.

Aboard, my love! His boat waits at the pier
that will us back to earthly pleasures bring.
Are you still there? Aye, there you are, my dear!

Come back, my love, my one and everything!
She will not come - forever she'll stay here:
oh lost! oh lost! I nevermore will sing.

15.

Oh lost! Oh lost! I nevermore will sing -
the magic of my lyre shall now decline,
my trembling lips won't utter any line
to praise a girl, a hero, god or king!

Oh lost! Oh lost! I nevermore will bring
my kiss to lips as warm and sweet as wine,
my heart to one that is in need of mine,
no more to my beloved one I'll cling.

My music nevermore shall fill the air:
they took away from me my song-in-chief,
my swan of swans, my rose of roses fair.

Who neither knows submission nor relief
shall hide his art forever in despair:
oh lost! oh lost! The world shall share my grief!

King Minos drove his cart through Knossos
and watched the crowd at the bazaar,
bald peasants with their noble spouses
and acrobats from near and far.

And in a busy street he spotted
a carpenter who moved with grace
and couldn't help but staring at the
long golden curls that framed his face.

'I want this boy', the King demanded;
his soldiers soon found Daedalus,
and he was summoned to the palace
where Minos asked him for a kiss.

'I could not love a man', he answered,
'not even if it meant my life;
my King, don't think me disrespectful,
but I would rather have your wife.'

With this he glanced across the courtyard;
a carpenter's dream, Pasiphae
flaunted her flawless sylphlike body
and raised her dress for all to see.

'Talking of which', the King imparted,
his solemn mien all sorrowful,
'with men she neither can be bothered,
because she loves my strongest bull.

'Since months she's trying to seduce him
though he won't even look at her,
and still her deviant intention
she is not willing to defer.

'Pasiphae now does my head in
with all her whimpers and her sighs,
and I will have no peace on Gaia
unless she gets her way or dies.

'For anyone who solves this problem
to see my peace of mind restored,
for anyone prepared to help me
I have a wonderful reward:

'An ebon Linear B tablet
which I have signed myself, and this
in aeons will be worth a fortune -
if it should last that long, that is.'

So Daedalus set out and slaughtered
the most attractive cow in Crete,
hollowed her out and trussed her carcase
in which the Queen abode her treat.

And when she learned that she was pregnant,
she reassured the child within:
'Although your father is surrounded
by walls, you'll never be fenced in!'

She calved one sultry summer's evening
(after some labour pains, I trust),
but when she saw her bovine love child,
her face contorted with disgust.

The King perceived her disappointment:
'That's what I've told you ever since -
if you select a brute as father,
you can't expect to bear a prince.'

And yet Pasiphae decided
to breast-feed it when it was born;
one breast she fed it on its arrival,
the other one the following morn.

It grew up in the royal gardens
and people called it Minotaur,
but as it lived on human beings,
they left the island by the score.

Again the desperate King required
the help of Daedalus: 'Once more
I need you; have my golden necklace,
if you can stop the Minotaur!'

So when it was asleep, he started
to build a wall around the beast,
keeping his eyes skinned for the monster;
he was afraid, to say the least.

But just before Daedalus finished,
its mother had its rights secured:
'You cannot close that wall - I promised
that he would never be immured!'

Daedalus only shrugged his shoulders
and left the gap, but round the wall
he built another and another;
he didn't cease to work at all.

Most gaps were leading to blind alleys;
he didn't rest a single day,
until his dreadful fears subsided
the Minotaur might find the way.

'My King, the isle of Crete is safe now',
the architect gleefully smiled;
that day Pasiphae decided
to pay a visit to her child.

And from that day the Queen went missing;
the King wept at her terebinth
and minted coins commemorating
the Lady of the Labyrinth.

Alone he had to walk his gardens,
alone he had to sleep at night -
though this had been the case already,
he turned against his acolyte:

'No matter which it was that swallowed
my wife, you have created it,
and I will have you executed
to terminate your noxious wit!'

So he was thrown into the tower
in which he had to share his cell
with Icarus who was expecting
his jaunt from Life to Death as well.

'It doesn't pay to spurn a monarch',
the youngster said. 'Don't you agree?' -
'It certainly does pay', he answered,
'I just don't like the currency!'

Two vultures nesting in the window
checked on the inmates every day:
they clearly were anticipating
a special treat being on the way.

And every time they left the tower,
Daedalus climbed up to their nest,
collecting all their giant feathers
which he was hiding at his chest.

Then, on the night before their hanging,
still being legally alive,
he called the guard and told him: 'Listen,
as we will be expunged at five,

'We need to talk about our future;
could we not get your torch to keep
our minds awake?' - The guard consented:
'As long as you don't oversleep.'

As soon as he was gone, they acted:
upon their arms they dropped the wax
and stuck the feathers in it, cursing
and ridiculing Minos Rex.

Before they jumped out of the window,
Daedalus said: 'We're safe, but shun
the lethal laser beams of Helos:
make sure you stay out of the sun!'

They flew all night. The sun was rising,
the lad forgot the augury;
his wings caught fire, the wax was melting,
and soon he plunged into the sea!

So Icarus' example shows us
once more evocatively that
those who are easily enkindled
are very likely to get wet.

Daedalus made it to the mainland,
but still he wasn't meant to find
peace, for wherever he was going,
King Minos followed close behind.

The King lay in a bath one evening
which he expected to be filled
with water through a pipe; thereafter
his foe was to be found and killed.

Upstairs was Daedalus, preparing
a kettle which he filled with oil;
he placed the kettle on the fire
and gently brought it to the boil.

I needn't tell you what has happened
when finally his bath arrived;
suffice to say King Minos perished
that night while Daedalus survived.

Thus he became the famous hero
of whom we hear in songs and books,
prevented from the love of woman
by hair growth, intellect and looks.

In a valley near the ocean
stood the city of Nagnata,
heart of commerce and devotion;
here, in Erin’s thriving gem,
the Dagda lived and his inamorata
beside the shrine his people built for them.

In a mill the men were grinding
corn while bards gave their renditions
at the streamlets that were winding
through ravines down to the sea,
from near and far the traders and musicians
arrived, becoming what they strove to be.

Mansions, roads and public places
yielded its distinguished aura,
fishermen with ruddy faces
sat on stones and cast their rods,
and over them the deities’ restorer,
the Dagda governed, Father of the Gods.

But one morning when the silence
of the birds engendered pity,
when the mist rolled from the highlands
and the streets were glazed with rain,
the tidings spread like wildfire through the city
that Patrick was arriving with his train.

Chanting hymns, the Lord’s battalion
marched and noisily descended
while the Dagda on his stallion
Acein knew he faced his fate,
and anxiously he held his arm extended
and told his men to close the city gate:

‘With this town I have created
one last haven of traditions,
and it won’t be desecrated
by a foreign god or priest;
Nagnata is no place for Christian missions –
we shall not be invaded from the East!’

But the clerics were no mortals
of the common disposition,
and they walked right through the portals
like a host of phantoms, and
with sheer determination and ambition
they took control of every inch of land.

Patrick and his monks selected
the location where their abbey
was supposed to be erected
while the Dagda turned around,
telling his citizens: ‘Don’t let these flabby
intruders violate this holy ground!’

Yet no weapon could undo them:
knife and axe caused no destruction,
and their arrows went right through them
like a brooklet through the fen -
at night they would dismantle their construction,
but in the morning it would stand again.

Soon Nagnata lay defeated
and strange laws were promulgated.
When the belfry was completed,
the old god warned with a frown:
‘With the first bell that tolls, this celebrated
city shall perish and its captors drown!’

On that sunny Easter morning
after they had raised the steeple,
still ignoring every warning,
Patrick’s monks felt they were blessed;
but as they rung the bell to call God’s people,
they heard a distant rumbling from the West.

Then the sky was set in motion,
and a sudden rain cascaded
down the vale, the savage ocean
pushed landinwards to reshape
the valley; on a hill the Dagda aided
his friends in building boats for their escape.

And he watched the waters rising
in the city he had founded,
watched the wild and jeopardising
torrent that had been a brook,
and while the bells below his feet still sounded,
he gave his work of art the parting look.

Poignantly he took his magic
harp, and he commenced to strum it
as his city met its tragic
end; the pensive god grew pale,
and as the raging waters reached the summit,
the Dagda and his followers set sail.

- Where the hawks and crows examine
every chimney in the mountains,
only stirred by swans and salmon,
lies the surface of Lough Gill,
and on clear days their buildings and their fountains,
their streets and homes can be distinguished still.

You may see the desolated
market where they used to barter,
next to it the consecrated
shrine and abbey, ne’er to wake,
and if you hear the church bells of Nagnata,
they call you to the bottom of the lake.

The Fatal Love-Spot

1. The Wedding

Hundred grooms prepared the stables,
hundred servants spread the bedding,
hundred maidens laid the tables,
hundred brewers sent their bill;
a thousand guests were coming to the wedding
of Finn and Grainne on the Holy Hill.

From the rocky coast of Kerry,
from the plains of Connemara,
from the murky woods of Derry,
from the hills and vales of Meath
the noblemen and ladies came to Tara,
while champions left the sword-blade in the sheath.

When the High King led his daughter
to the Fianna's chief whose power
could be felt in peace and slaughter,
Finn took Dorraing to the side:
'You've told the truth - she is the fairest flower
of Erin's gardens and a worthy bride!'

But when Grainne saw him staring
at her body, smiling smugly,
she was instantly declaring
her dislike for Dorraing's plan:
'You've lied to me - he's old and grey and ugly,
and I shall never lie beside this man!'

Grainne had a reputation
for her wit, and it was rumoured
that in any situation
her reply would be the best;
as Finn was fond of riddles and good-humoured,
he challenged her and put her to the test.

'What bites more than a bad habit?'
'That's a cursed man's apprehension.'
'Who hears better than a rabbit?',
and she said: 'A man who's blind.'
'What alters faster than a good intention?',
and Grainne answered him: 'A woman's mind.'

On the lawn the harpist gently
touched the strings and sang of Beauty,
long-legged waitresses intently
served the bacon and the ale,
and while the fools and jugglers did their duty,
Finn entertained his guests with many a tale.

But the ladies' eyes were resting
on the champion with the bonnet
while the girls and maids were jesting,
and the men were even worse;
Finn realised their interest in the bonnet
and spoke of Diarmait's life and of his curse.

'Once in Angus' famous houses
I was feasting with some other
champions, with their friends and spouses
and with Diarmait's father Donn,
while Diarmait played some games with his small brother,
his father's steward's and his mother's son.

'Suddenly the hounds were fighting
o'er the meat - they were frustrated,
they were growling, scratching, biting,
each one raged, and each one bled;
among the hounds, as they were separated,
we found the steward's son, and he was dead.

'But we found no tooth-mark on his
corpse, no sign of any hassle
with the hounds, no bruise upon his
body, on his back or side;
I took a chess-board and a golden vessel
of water to discover how he died.

'It was shown that he was playing
near the hounds, but soon he noted
their bad blood as they were baying,
and he fled among the trees.
Donn saw him running through his legs; he gloated
and crushed the little boy between his knees.

'With a druid-rod the father
touched the corpse, mournfully sighing,
and it turned into a rather
huge and fright'ning earless boar:
„Kill Diarmait when he's strongest, and the dying
hero shall kill you as you'll kill before!"

'He is wild and evil-tempered,
and destruction is his feature,
he knocks down the strongest rampart,
and he makes the Fianna blush:
the earless boar is Erin's fiercest creature
and kills two hundred champions in a rush!

'Diarmait grew and joined the forces
of the King - no foot is lighter
than his own, he tames mad horses,
and his spear would never miss;
he is the Fianna's most inventive fighter,
and only four are stronger than he is.

'Once we met a man - a poet,
as he claimed; he told a riddle,
and he asked me would I know it,
and I found the puzzle's keys.
„A feast's prepared for you right in the middle
of Lochlann's woods among the Quicken Trees."

'Four men came with me. The pleasant
house was empty and the stable,
but there was some fruit and pheasant,
and a fragrant fire did burn;
our host had spread soft sheets around the table,
so we sat down, awaiting his return.

'Soon the fire stank to heaven,
while the food decayed, and banished
was our joy; instead of seven
open gates there was one door,
and it was locked - the precious sheets had vanished,
and we were sitting on the naked floor.

'So we tried to leave, but found that
we were paralysed; frustrated,
by King Miodac's host surrounded,
we were fastened to the ground,
and so we sounded the Dord Fiann and waited,
because we knew the Fianna was around.

'Fighting bravely to deliver
us from Miodac's foul enchantment,
they were cornered at the river,
even though they struggled well;
then Diarmait came, took over the commandment,
and with the traitor's blood he broke the spell.

'Conan said, as he was near him:
„Bring the food he was preparing!",
but, pretending not to hear him,
Diarmait stopped and took a rest.
„I wish I was a maid", he was declaring,
for Diarmait never spurns a girl's request.

'For the night an agèd shepherd
gave us lodging, and his daughter
gave us lamb sticks, richly peppered,
and a smile, intent and bright;
she gave us bacon, self-brewed ale and water
and told us we would share her room that night.

'She was tall, and like the russet
chestnut was her hair, her hazel
eyes were warm as on the grassèd
hills of Meath the mountain deer,
her slender neck was soft and smelt of basil,
her endless legs announced a heaven near.

'We retired soon; the setting
sun had gone, the day had ended,
and we hoped that we'd be getting
all the boons a man desires:
a meal, a bed, a woman, as the splendid
custom of hospitality requires.

'Conan sneaked up to the naked
beauty, and he introduced him-
self as Conan Mór the Wakèd,
and he looked into her eyes.
„I want to sleep with you", but she refused him:
„You've had me once, and no one has me twice."

'So I walked up to the maiden,
but her luring eyes confused me,
and my heart was passion-laden,
as I looked into those eyes.
„I want to lie beside you"; she refused me:
„You've had me once, and no one has me twice."

Diarmait tried, and he was smiling
as my crude attempt amused him
greatly; with his most beguiling
gaze he looked into her eyes.
„I want your love tonight!", but she refused him:
„You've had me once, and no one has me twice."

'Slowly she removed her cover:
„I am Youth, your short-lived shady
romance, and you were my lover."
Then she held him in her arms
and put a love-spot on his head; no lady
who ever sees it can resist his charms!'

'Let us see your love-spot, Diarmait!',
all the women chanted loudly.
'Let us see your love-spot, Diarmait!',
Grainne shrieked with wild delight.
'I can't, for if I did', said Diarmait proudly,
'I'd probably be loved to death tonight!'

As the silver moon was rising
in the sky, the celebration
still continued, and surprising
deeds were told of olden days,
but Grainne's mind had left the conversation;
she couldn't turn her eyes from Diarmait's face.

2. The Geis

Late at night the feast was over;
watchmen closed the city gates,
Grainne went into her chamber,
languished and dismissed her maids.

In the House of Swords slept Diarmait,
in the yard the restless hounds,
and along the gates of Tara
Finn, as usual, walked his rounds.

Grainne sneaked up to the courtyard;
there she threw a single bone
o'er the wall. The hounds were barking,
and she picked a little stone.

Diarmait came to separate them,
Grainne aimed the stone she found
and cast off the champion's bonnet
which was falling to the ground.

Grainne saw the famous love-spot,
and she couldn't help to feel
in her heart the piercing passion
like a blade of icy steel.

As he walked back to his chamber,
she awaited him inside:
'I have seen your love-spot, Diarmait,
and I want your love tonight!'

'Finn's my friend and my commander;
I will never touch his bride,
and it's from your wedded husband
you shall get your love tonight!'

'No one ever has rejected
my sweet love until this day;
from the time I was begotten
I have always got my way!

'But as you refuse to take me,
I shall put a geis on you:
that you flee with me from Tara's
halls before the night is through.

'There's a door beneath my bower,
and a narrow passage leads
to a clearing in the forest
with a cabin made of reeds.'

'If I have to leave the city,
I will take another course;
it is not a champion's habit
sneaking out of secret doors.

'If I flee the Hill of Tara
now, I must be seen by all:
with my sword I'll cut the bushes,
with my spear I'll jump the wall!'

Grainne hurried to the cabin
with a sparkle in her eyes -
meanwhile Diarmait scoured the chambers
of his friends for good advice.

'As you're under bonds' , said Oisin,
'there's no choice. You must give in;
I suggest you follow Grainne,
and you stay away from Finn!'

'You can not be blamed', said Osgar.
'You must go with Grainne now;
there's no mercy for a champion
who would break a geis or vow.'

'You must follow her', said Caoilte
with a sneer upon his face.
'You'll be hunted for a lifetime,
but I'd love to take your place!'

'There is no escape', said Dorraing,
who was struggling for his breath.
'You will have to go with Grainne,
and through her you'll meet your death.'

'Thank you for your help', said Diarmait
to his friends. 'Farewell, ye all!'
With a curse he left the building,
and he leapt across the wall.

3. The Pursuit

Across the woods, the meadows and the river
the flying couple headed for the West.
The night was cold, and she began to shiver:
'I'm tired', said Grainne, 'let us have a rest.'

Diarmait looked up and said: 'The moon is dead now
and pale; it's time for getting tired all right,
so let us turn around and go to bed now,
and Finn shall never know about tonight.'

'I won't go back, and I will never leave you!
I want to share your fate and share your curse;
I'll always love you, and I won't deceive you!' -
'But you'll deceive your husband, which is worse.'

He gathered branches from the trees and bushes
and built a hut with seven doors around,
he spread a bed of birch-tree tops and rushes
for Grainne to lie down upon the ground.

They had to leave each lodging in the morning:
Finn followed them through forest, plain and bog,
but when he came, they got an early warning
from Diarmait's friends, Finn's hounds or Angus Og.

The love-god then would fly away with Grainne
into his marble house through time and space,
while Diarmait would be fighting with the Fianna
and then collect her from his patron's place.

He was aware her raging spouse would find him,
and even though he knew he couldn't win,
he always left unbroken bread behind him
to show that he was keeping faith with Finn. -

One early morning, while the High King's daughter
was sleeping, Diarmait's name upon her lips,
he climbed a grassy hill to watch the water,
and in the West he saw a fleet of ships.

They anchored in the bay, and from a vessel
the leaders with their weapons went ashore;
he greeted them, aware there might be hassle,
and asked them straight what they were coming for.

'Green Champions, we're considered an ill omen;
we're their three Kings, and all these men are chiefs.
Finn asked us for support against his foemen,
because he wants to rid the land of thieves.

'One in particular, who tries to flee him:
we're looking for the man who took away
his wife. His name is Diarmait; did you see him?' -
'I've seen a girl who saw him yesterday.

'Bring me a cask of wine', adjured the charmer.
'I want to show a brilliant trick to you,
and anyone shall get my sword and armour
who manages to do what I will do!'

The cask rolled down the hill; as Diarmait threw it,
he balanced on it, and no wine was spilled.
'This is no trick, for anyone can do it!' -
But those who tried fell down, and they got killed.

Next morning he went back to them, brave-hearted,
and saw the men preparing for the fight.
'Have you seen Diarmait, stranger, since we parted?' -
'I've seen a girl who saw your man this night.'

He put his sword between two trees, and lighter
than birds' feet were his own. He walked with ease;
'I'll give my sword and armour to the fighter
who walks upon the sword between the trees!'

'This act may be a trick in foreign places,
where people know no champions', laughed the men.
They climbed the tree, a sneer upon their faces,
and in two pieces they came down again.

Next morning they received him in a stately
manner. A chief approached and raised his brow:
'No tricks today! Have you seen Diarmait lately?' -
'I see a man who sees your man right now!'

He drew his sword before he grasped the answer
and with a sudden blow removed his head;
and every champion, every chief and lancer
attacking Diarmait soon as well was dead.

He captured their three Kings amidst the battle,
while all the champions fled the raven's croak;
he led the hostages away like cattle
and tied them to the root of Ogma's Oak.

Then he told Grainne of his feat, the hurry
of knights, and how their leaders begged and moaned.
'And did you kill those Kings?' - 'Why should I worry?
There's four men who could loose them, and they won't.

'Let's go to Tara now and beg Finn's pardon:
I never touched you, and I never will.
I do not want Finn's heart and mine to harden -
he will forgive me, and he'll love you still.'

'We won't go back! You know you have to hide me
a lifetime, and I swear to all our gods
that Finn mac Cumhail will never sleep beside me,
not if he whipped me with his druid-rods!'

‘It's not too healthy being on the razzle
with the whole Fianna following our tracks:
your stubbornness will make us see Hy-Brasil!
But then', he sighed, 'you're of the stubborn sex.'

Meanwhile the Fianna reached the Western Ocean,
and at the foot of Ogma's Oak they found,
without a sign of life, without a motion,
the Kings whom Diarmait fastened to the ground.

Finn said to Oisin: 'Will you loose these three that
the man has tied who stole away my bride?'
'I won't', said Oisin.' There's a geis on me that
I never free a man whom Diarmait tied.'

So Finn was turning to his strongest fighter:
'Now Osgar, bring their suff'rings to an end!' -
'I'd rather make their bonds a little tighter,
as they have tried to kill our dearest friend.'

'If Diarmait tied them, he has had a reason',
said Lugaidh's Son and disobeyed his chief.
'I don't believe that he committed treason,
and I will never fall from my belief.'

'He stole my wife, and he humiliated
my friends, and he shall pay for every bruise!
Now Conan, loose their bonds!' But Conan stated:
'My hands were made to tie and not to loose!'

'Oh, how I wish that I could find this goner
who took my wife, and, by the gods, I will!' -
'We think that it is Diarmait you should honour;
we think that it is Grainne you should kill!' -

In Dubhro's Wood there lived a mighty giant
who guarded sacred berries for the Dea:
the Surly One was vicious and defiant,
and e'en the Fianna feared to hunt out there.

But Diarmait sought him and spoke up before him,
and soon the Surly One came to agree
that he could hunt his forest if he swore him
to stay away from the forbidden tree.

One morning at the brook he scented danger
and saw a champion on the other side.
'What are you looking for?', he asked the stranger.
'Your head, if you are Diarmait, and your bride.

'My father killed Finn's father - since this action
we are at war, and Finn is asking me
to bring him Diarmait's head for satisfaction
or berries from a guarded quicken-tree.'

'But he's avenged since Finn has killed your father,
and he knows well that you will not survive
the effort to get either. You should rather
remain at war with him and save your life.'

'So it was not enough to capture Grainne,
his wife, but you must speak of him like that?' -
'Why are those berries' , interrupted Grainne,
'that you are on about so hard to get?'

'They're from the Country of the Everliving:
a giant lives among the mighty roots
to guard the quicken-tree, for it is giving
eternal youth to those who eat its fruits.'

'I want those berries', shrieked the girl. 'I'm sorry',
said Diarmait, 'but I shall not break my vow;
and while he guards this wood, we needn't worry' -
'I want those berries, and I want them now!'

'It's not too healthy being on the razzle
with the whole Fianna following our tracks;
your greediness will make us see Hy-Brasil!
But then', he sighed, you're of the greedy sex.'

'You come to break our peace?', the giant shouted.
'It's that this woman caught me in her spell.
Just pass a handful - I have never doubted
the two of us would get on very well.'

The Surly One just raised his club and spitted:
'You want to fight me with that tiny sword?'
But Diarmait leapt and grabbed his club and hit it
upon its owner's head; the giant roared.

His roar awoke Killarney's water fairies,
but after two more blows he roared no more,
and Diarmait climbed the tree and picked some berries
and left the giant lying in his gore.

He gave a fistful to the grateful quitter:
'Tell Finn you picked those berries, and make haste!',
while Grainne spat them out: 'Those fruits are bitter
and hard, and I don't like their acrid taste.'

Finn met the anxious champion at the river:
'I won't make peace with you, for as it stands
you did not pick those berries you deliver -
they carry still the smell of Diarmait's hands!' -

The night was rough and wild, and Grainne felt her
soft skin go cold beneath her wanting dress.
A Fomor came - he asked the two for shelter
and challenged Diarmait to a game of chess.

'So what's the stake?', asked Diarmait. 'Are we playing
for swords?' And Grainne, tossing back a curl,
smiled at the gloomy man as he was saying:
'I'll play for nothing else but for the girl!'

He put his arm around her, and the lampion
adorned her as she sat upon his knee:
'For years I've been the mistress of this champion,
and still he never came that close to me.'

'It's not too healthy being on the razzle
with the whole Fianna following our tracks;
your fickleness will make us see Hy-Brasil!
But then', he sighed, 'you're of the fickle sex.'

Thus Diarmait raised his sword against the stirrer:
'I'm sorry that I have to kill you now!'
The sword came down, and in the dusky mirror
of Grainne's eyes his head dropped like her vow.

She screamed with terror as the head was falling
into her lap, and with a plaintive cry
she leapt and rid herself of the appalling
remnant and stabbed a knife in Diarmait's thigh.

Without a word he left the cave and wandered
aimlessly through the stormy winter night,
while Grainne - looking at the weather - pondered,
and soon the man she loved was out of sight.

Then she ran after him, and in the morning,
her flimsy garment soaked with rain and dew,
she found the runaway. The day was dawning,
and he was sleeping tight beneath a yew.

'I'm sorry, Diarmait', Grainne whispered lowly:
'with you I am, with you I want to stay!'
He sourly smiled at her and answered slowly:
'Since when do wolves apologise to prey?'

'I love you, Diarmait, even though you're showing
less warmth than all those distant stars above.
My love for you is strong and ever growing;
I'd rather die than live without your love!'

'I was a champion and a dear companion,
I was a hunter - now I am the prey.
Because of you the warrior and Fennian
is forced to shun the night and flee the day!

'You separated me from all I cherish:
my friends, my lands, my houses - I'm undone,
and in the wilderness I have to perish
in flight from him who loved me like a son!'

'Oh Diarmait of the golden hair, I love you:
to no one else I'll ever give my heart.
I love the air you breathe, the sky above you,
the world around you - never let us part!'

'Oh you whose smile is like the summer breezes,
whose heart is like the coldest moonless night,
whose deed destroys, and yet whose language pleases,
oh you who never took one step aright,

'You worthless woman of the frightful fetter,
voracious vulture dressing as a dove,
even your hatred would have served me better
than this obscure emotion you call love.

'Your heart is but a nuisance for the living,
your love declining sooner than the sun
behind the Western Sea, as you are giving
your love to Finn and me and anyone!'

'I'm hungry', said the girl to end the crisis.
'There's bread', said Diarmait, 'but it's old and dry.' -
'I wish we had a knife to cut the slices.' -
'The knife is where you left it - in my thigh.'

4. The Victory

I'd run off with the High King's wife
and fear not for my name and life,
but I won't hurt a friend of mine,
and Finn knows well that I'd decline
the precious gift that came to me,
as long as he my friend would be.
He is no more: he wants my head
and will not rest until I'm dead.
So build our house of twigs around
and spread sweet blossoms on the ground,
for I have to take you tonight!

Now I shall pull the raven-hair
and bend the stubborn neck and scare
the evil eye of nightly gloom
and chew the mouth that sealed my doom
and hold the arms that stabbed my thigh
and grip the heart that bound my tie
and tear the dress that dares to hide
the temple of my wicked bride
and squeeze the hips that now lie free
and grab the legs that ran with me
and part them on our flower bed
and leave a trace of broken bread,
for I have to take you tonight!

5. The Defeat

The High King sent for Finn mac Cumhail
and raised his mighty hand:
'For years you've undermined my rule,
endangering our land!

'The Fianna's duty's to protect
my country and my life,
but you have caused them to neglect
their job to chase your wife!

'The gates of Tara stand ajar
for armies to come in,
while all the Fennian champions are
away to fight for Finn!

'I want them back! I also claim
the bravest of them all –
he took your wife, but all the same
this man obeys my call!

'Oisin, your son, is very smart
and clever, one can tell:
a champion after my own heart,
he'll lead the Fianna well!'

'What do you mean?', asked Finn. His knees
were weak, his voice was low.
'I mean that if you don't make peace
with Diarmait, you must go!'

So Finn made peace with Diarmait and
restored his house and lands.
The Fennians greeted their old friend,
and Diarmait hugged his friends.

And soon the wedding was prepared
for Grainne and for him:
no meat, no fish, no ale was spared,
and only Finn looked grim.

The people came from everywhere
after the news went out,
to meet this most illustrious pair
they heard so much about.

The High King and his men were pleased,
the brewers sent their bill:
a thousand guests came to the feast
upon the Holy Hill.

And Grainne, with a smile divine,
took Diarmait's hand and said:
'Now I am yours, and you are mine:
show everyone you're glad,

'And do not leave my side until
the wedding guests are gone,
and tell me that you love me still,
and leave your bonnet on!'

6. The Hunt

The sons of Diarmait played the Tailltin Battle,
his daughter tried to crawl across the floor,
and Grainne lit the fire beneath the kettle,
as Finn mac Cumhail was knocking at the door:
'Hail Diarmait! I am here with many friends;
we're asking for permission to go hunting through your lands.'

'If you go hunting through my forests, will you
not take me with you?', Diarmait asked his guest.
'We hunt the earless boar that's bound to kill you,
and therefore you should stay and have a rest.
The beast would crush your bones like autumn twigs;
thus Angus put the geis on you that you shall hunt no pigs.'

'I never heard of such a geis' ,the raging
champion replied. 'You are the Fianna's head,
and I am well aware you are engaging
the High King's army just to see me dead.
You planned this hunt to bury me today,
because you know that I would rather die than run away!'

So Diarmait took his coat, his hounds and weapons,
ignoring Grainne's warnings and her sighs.
He kissed his wife goodbye: 'Whatever happens:
I will be dying as a hero dies!'
He went with Finn who told him not to go;
‘There's one man who can kill him - that is me, and this you know!

He saw him, grabbed his spear, and with the other
hand Diarmait loosed his hounds who ran away.
He aimed and threw the spear against his brother
who got a scratch; the boar, without delay,
run towards the champion who fell on his back,
the mighty tusks stirred up the ground beside the hero's neck.

Now Diarmait drew his sword, and he was trying
to stab the beast before his blood was spilled.
It broke; he grimly laughed as he was lying
beneath the boar with nothing but the hilt.
The boar turned round to where the Fianna stood,
but Diarmait grabbed his hind legs and was hauled across the wood.

In order to get rid of him he jolted
and jumped the streams; his foe held on, but then
he lost his grip. The beast turned back and halted
and charged the stubborn hunter once again.
His tusks ripped Diarmait open, but the hilt
sliced through his guts which covered Diarmait as the boar was killed.

'I wish the women saw you now', Finn smugly
commented as he rested on his sword,
'if they could only see how vile and ugly
that body turned that they so much adored,
if Erin's girls and ladies only knew
about this scene, they'd be disgusted at the sight of you!'

'You must not stand there feeding on your passion,
insulting victims, bound in Grainne's ties.
Come to your wits! Remember your profession,
and heal this champion now before he dies.' -
'And how?', Finn asked his son and almost swooned.
'I know a drink of water from your hands heals every wound.'

'This man does not deserve a drink of water',
Finn answered him, referring to his wife.
'He robbed his leader of the High King's daughter,
and he deserves no drink to save his life!' -
'You know he does! ' Finn's son looked stern and grim;
'He had no other choice since Grainne put a geis on him.'

'There is no water in this wood', Finn uttered.
'You know that there's a well beyond the hill.
If you delay, I'll kill you', Oisin muttered,
'and bring the water in your hands, I will!'
Finn fetched the water while he thought about
his wife; it trickled through his fingers, and he came without.

'He is not worth a drink', the chief repeated.
'But when he saved you twixt the quicken-trees,
you would have deemed him worthy', Osgar pleaded.
'Now go and get the drink, or you'll feel these!'
Finn fetched the water while he thought about
his wife; it trickled through his fingers, and he came without.

'You will not save me; I was shown you'll settle
my death, after I risked my life for yours
so oft, but in the coming days of battle
you'll miss my service like your nanny's cures.
You hate me for what Grainne did to you,
but yet you know that I oppose her actions as you do.'

'She put him under bonds, for Diarmait never
intended to obey her faithless call.
Therefore he has to stay with her forever;
maybe he doesn't love his wife at all.'
With this in mind the chief suppressed his hate
and brought the water to the hero, but it was too late.

7. The End

Hundred grooms prepared the stables,
hundred servants spread the bedding,
hundred maidens laid the tables,
hundred brewers sent their bill;
a thousand guests were coming to the wedding
of Finn and Grainne on the Holy Hill.

Diarmait's sons had great ambitions:
with the bulls in the arena,
in the champions' competitions
Grainne always saw them win;
she made them swear, before they joined the Fianna,
that they'd revenge their father and kill Finn.

But the power and the pleasures
made her weak; she took a liking
to her status, and the measures
of her hatred emptied out,
while Finn opposed and disobeyed the High King,
and every Fennian cheered his leader's flout.

Soon the High King lost his patience
with the Fianna. At the border
soldiers stood from foreign nations
to protect the High King's right;
paying some Fennians, Grainne gave the order
to kill the sons of Diarmait in the fight.