Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition
The Metrical Dindshenchas (Author: [unknown])
poem/story 45
TLACHTGA
- Tlachtga, proud and princely hill, has seen the passing of many a stern king, since long ago seemly Tlachtga possessed it, daughter of the famous slave of kingly Roth.
- Mug Roith was son of Fergus Fáil, son of royal and worshipful Ross; Cacht daughter of Cathmann skilled in feats was his own mother, fresh of hue.
- Roth son of Rigoll fostered him, therefore was he Roth's chosen Slave: his two sons were Buan and Corb, whose noble chant brought the people luck.
- The mother of those goodly sons was Derdraigen, strong, fierce, and fell: she was mother too of Cairpre, as my gentle bardic art certifies.
- Daughter of Mug, master of thousands, was choice Tlachtganot chill was her bosom: with her giant father dear went she to noble Simon sechtmisid.
p.189
- Three sons had Simon, who dwelt at ease; gigantic was their league of hell: Nero, Carpent, and Uetir, they were a mighty race, mortal in conflict.
- All the sons together gave their love to Tlachtga secretly, and quickened her womb, in truth, with offspring like in build and bulk.
- Tlachtgano weakling was shewas one of three, with the beloved giant Slave and with Simon sechtmisid, who made the red well-finished Wheel.
- She carried with her the fragment, I wis, that the cunningly-made Wheel left behind it, the perfect Stone at feeble Forcarthain and the Pillar at Cnamchaill.
- Blind is each that once sees it, deaf is each that hears it: dead is he that aught touches of the rough-jagged dreadful Wheel.
- When the woman came westward she bore three sons of great beauty: she died at their birth, the bright brisk lady: a strange talelet us hear it and hide it not!
- The names of her sons (no meagre utterance) were Muach and Cumma and darling Doirb: 'tis for the men of Torach, that claimed them for its own, to hear their namesand mark ye them!
p.191
- As long as the names of her sons shall be held in honour throughout Banba (this is a true saying to spread abroad) there comes no ruin to her men.
- The hill where a grave was built for the lady of the chilly lands, above every title given by lucky poet it bears the style of silent Tlachtga.