Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition
The Metrical Dindshenchas (Author: [unknown])
Ath Fadat I
- Liath alas! unites you not:
it will be no draught of buttermilk!
your mother shall not bear a son
from this time forth:
- 5] Fadat from Loch Lurgan
(the author declares to you)
shall fall by a broad-headed spear
before the Leinstermen in battle.
- Doe shall come no healing draught!
10] with mantle and with brooch,
with a fiery straight weapon
to win a ruthless victory:
- Caichni the steadfast shall come
with a warlike ancient weapon;
15] she will overcome your troops;
'tis she will gain the day.
- This is the truth of it which thou knowest not,
there never touches me fear
of my wounding or mangling
20] in the stern encounter of swords:
- Ye shall fall by my sling-stone,
and your brother shall fall;
word will reach your mother
that 'tis I shall gain the day.
25] Woe for thy fate, thou caitiff!
the Gaels shall not stop us;
'tis thine own errant sword
shall cut off thine head:
Doe of the dun mantles shall come to thee,
30] and Caichni of equal strength,
and Fadat, firm-set hero;
it will be a conflict with three strong ones.
- Tis I am the champion worth a hundred
from a vast valorous host;
35] I am the dragon of numerous peoples;
in sooth 'tis my birthright:
- I have fought many a battle;
ye shall not resist me for a moment;
by me has your father fallen;
40] his son shall fall, alas!