Ossian Collection > Waifs and strays of Celtic tradition > Volume 4

Caoilte. 65
One day that we were on the rush covered plain,
Two fours, two folds, was our company,
Oscar, Derglas, and Diarmid,
Fionn himself was there, the son of Cumal.
There was seen coming towards us
A tall man on one leg,
One top eye in his forehead.
Always making straight for the son of Cumal.
Ugly was the coming of the Big man,
Ugly it was and deformed.
With his darksome helmet of skin, that did not grow
twined.
Barely weaved and deeply red with rusted spots
(With his excessively large helmet
On his bare garments that had become ugly).
" Whence have you come, man ?
Or are you a clothier to shape skins ?"
" I am not a clothier to shape skins,
But I came to put you under spells.
Since you are a people engaged in warfare.
That you follow me an easy-going company
Westward to the door of my smithy.
Lon Macliven is my name,
I am the best warrior in this part of the country.
King ! it is a pity of the woman who reared me,
Myself and my other two brothers."
Var. [Edmond Tosny is my name,
If you knew me very well,
And I do smith work
To the Norse King in Spylie."]
" Where, wretch, is your smithy ?
And will wc be the better of seeing it ?"