DEIRDRE'S LAMENT
And Deirdre dishevelled her hair and began kissing Noisi and drinking his blood, and the colour of embers came into her cheeks, and she uttered this lay.
Long is the day without Usnagh's Children;
It was never mournful to be in their company.
A king's sons, by whom exiles were rewarded,
Three lions from the Hill of the Cave.
Three dragons of Dun Monidh,
The three champions from the Red Branch:
After them I shall not live—
Three that used to break every onrush.
Three darlings of the women of Britain,
Three hawks of Slieve Gullion,
Sons of a king whom valour served,
To whom soldiers would pay homage.
Three heroes who were not good at homage,
Their fall is cause of sorrow—
Three sons of Cathba's daughter,
Three props of the battle-host of Coolney.
Three vigorous bears,
Three lions out of Liss Una,
Three lions who loved their praise,
Three pet sons of Ulster.
That I should remain after Noisi
Let no one in the world suppose!
After Ardan and Ainnle
My time would not be long.
Ulster's high-king, my first husband,
I forsook for Noisi's love:
Short my life after them,
I will perform their funeral game.
