Selections from Ancient Irish Poetry/The Song of Carroll's Sword

Selections from Ancient Irish Poetry
translated by Kuno Meyer
The Song of Carroll's Sword
3534374Selections from Ancient Irish Poetry — The Song of Carroll's SwordKuno Meyer

THE SONG OF CARROLL'S SWORD

(a.d. 909)

Hail, sword of Carroll! Oft hast thou been in the
great woof of war,
Oft giving battle, beheading high princes.

Oft hast thou gone a-raiding in the hands of kings
of great judgments,
Oft hast thou divided the spoil with a good king
worthy of thee.

Oft where men of Leinster were hast thou been in
a white hand,
Oft hast thou been among kings, oft among great
bands.

Many were the kings that wielded thee in fight,
Many a shield hast thou cleft in battle, many a
head and chest, many a fair skin.

Forty years without sorrow Enna of the noble
hosts had thee,
Never wast thou in a strait, but in the hands of a
very fierce king.

Enna gave thee—'twas no niggardly gift—to his
own son, to Dunling,
For thirty years in his possession, at last thou
broughtest ruin to him.

Many a king upon a noble steed possessed thee
unto Dermot the kingly, the fierce:
Sixteen years was the time Dermot had thee.

At the feast of Allen Dermot the hardy-born
bestowed thee,
Dermot, the noble king, gave thee to the man of
Mairg, to Murigan.


Forty years stoutly thou wast in the hand of
Allen's high-king,
With Murigan of mighty deeds thou never wast a
year without battle.

In Wexford Murigan, the King of Vikings, gave
thee to Carroll:
While he was upon the yellow earth Carroll gave
thee to none.

Thy bright point was a crimson point in the battle
of Odba of the Foreigners,
When thou leftest Aed Finnliath on his back in
the battle of Odba of the noble routs.

Crimson was thy edge, it was seen; at Belach
Moon thou wast proved,
In the valorous battle of Alvy's Plain throughout
which the fighting raged.

Before thee the goodly host broke on a Thursday
at Dun Ochtair,
When Aed the fierce and brilliant fell upon the
hillside above Leafin.

Before thee the host broke on the day when Kelly
was slain,
Flannagan's son, with numbers of troops, in high
lofty great Tara.

Before thee they ebbed southwards in the battle of
the Boyne of the rough feats,
When Cnogva fell, the lance of valour, at seeing
thee, for dread of thee.

Thou wast furious, thou wast not weak, heroic was
thy swift force,
When Ailill Frosach of Fál[1] fell in the front of the
onset.


Thou never hadst a day of defeat with Carroll of
the beautiful garths.
He swore no lying oath, he went not against his
word.

Thou never hadst a day of sorrow, many a night
thou hadst abroad;
Thou hadst awaiting thee many a king with
many a battle.

O sword of the kings of mighty fires, do not fear
to be astray!
Thou shalt find thy man of craft, a lord worthy of
thee.

Who shall henceforth possess thee, or to whom
wilt thou deal ruin?
From the day that Carroll departed, with whom
wilt thou be bedded?

Thou shalt not be neglected until thou come to
the house of glorious Naas:
Where Finn of the feasts is they will hail thee with
'welcome.'

  1. A name for Ireland.