Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition
The Metrical Dindshenchas (Author: [unknown])

poem/story 45


  1. 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.
  2. 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.
  3. 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.
  4. The mother of those goodly sons was Derdraigen, strong, fierce, and fell: she was mother too of Cairpre, as my gentle bardic art certifies.
  5. Daughter of Mug, master of thousands, was choice Tlachtga—not chill was her bosom: with her giant father dear went she to noble Simon sechtmisid.

  6. p.189

  7. 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.
  8. All the sons together gave their love to Tlachtga secretly, and quickened her womb, in truth, with offspring like in build and bulk.
  9. Tlachtga—no weakling was she—was one of three, with the beloved giant Slave and with Simon sechtmisid, who made the red well-finished Wheel.
  10. 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.
  11. 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.
  12. When the woman came westward she bore three sons of great beauty: she died at their birth, the bright brisk lady: a strange tale—let us hear it and hide it not!
  13. 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 names—and mark ye them!

  14. p.191

  15. 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.
  16. 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.