Part 10 (1/2)

The music of the forest Would sing to me when with Curithir, Together with the voice of the purple sea.

Would that Nothing of all I have done Should have wrung his heart against me!

Conceal it not!

He was my heart's love, Whatever else I might love.

A roaring flame Has dissolved this heart of mine-- Without him for certain it cannot live.

BARDIC POETRY

A DIRGE FOR KING NIALL OF THE NINE HOSTAGES (+ A.D. 405)

TUIRN SON OF TORNA

When we used to go to the gathering with Echu's[15] son, Yellow as a bright primrose was the hair upon the head of Cairenn's[16]

son.

TORNA

Well hast thou spoken, dear son. A bondmaid should be given thee For the sake of the hair which thou hast likened to the colour of the crown of the primrose.

Eyelashes black, delicate, equal in beauty, and dark eyebrows-- The crown of the woad, a bright hyacinth, that was the colour of his pupils.

TUIRN SON OF TORNA

The colour of his cheeks at all seasons, even and symmetrical: The fox-glove, the blood of a calf--a feast without a flaw! the crown of the forest in May.

TORNA

His white teeth, his red lips that never reproved in anger-- His shape like a fiery blaze overtopping the warriors of Erin.

Like the moon, like the sun, like a fiery beacon was the splendour of Niall: Like a dragon-s.h.i.+p from the wave without a flaw was Niall, Echu's son.

TUIRN SON OF TORNA

This is a yearnful music, the wail of every mouth in Kerry-- It increases my grief in my house for the death of Muredach's[17]

grandson.

Saxons will ravage here in the east, n.o.ble men of Erin and Alba, After the death of Niall, Echu's n.o.ble son--it is a bitter cause of reproach.

TORNA

Saxons with overwhelming cries of war, hosts of Lombards from the continent, From the hour in which the king fell Gael and Pict are in a sore straight.