There seems to be some lyrical waxing on the board at the moment, so I thought some might be interested in how Irish history was portrayed by the polished poets of Ireland.

Ireland, the Land, has always been regarded as female and the poets have always addressed their lays to a woman, usually addressing her by name. In the early poems, Ireland is a living entity who addresses and interacts with gods and mortals in her own words. In later times, she becomes suppressed by new cultures and can no longer speak for herself. The poets continue to refer to her as a woman but give her new, or disguised names.

The earliest recorded poems are in either early Irish or Latin. Because of this, translations to English vary, depending on the scholar. Names of individuals also vary from text to text.

So, unless there's a huge objection, I'll post the first couple of poems tomorrow.

Sounds great! *s*

Lay on McShae!

Okay, yiz axed forrit!

Some of the poems are quite long, so I'll just post enough to illustrate the point.

There are hundreds of poems in Irish mythology but the following two extracts will be enough to set the scene. The Sons of Mil had arrived on Ireland’s shores. When the first boat beached, their poet, Amorgen, placed his right foot on the Land and recited:

“I am the Wind on Sea
I am Ocean Wave
I am Roar of Sea
I am Bull of Seven Fights
I am Vulture on Cliff
I am Dewdrop
I am Fairest of Flowers
I am Boar for Boldness
I am Salmon in Pool
I am Lake on Plain
I am a Mountain in a Man
I am a Word of Skill
I am the Point of a Weapon (that pours forth combat)
I am God who fashions Fire for a Head.”

The poem goes on a bit and you can find other translations by searching for “Amorgen’s” or “Amergin’s Song,” or variations on the name. The poem has been used by some to show that early Celtic magicians were capable of shape-shifting. To me, it displays an arrogance that was tempered somewhat when the Sons of Mil were refused “landing rights” by the Tuatha De Danann and they had to put to sea again. They did eventually land on Ireland again. After a while they met Banba, who would allow them to settle if they agreed to call the island after her. Later, they met Fotla, and the poet agreed to her request that the island should be named after her. Finally, when they came to Uisneach, they met Eriu, and he agreed to call the island after her name too. Eriu (Erin) persuaded him that her name would be the principle name for Ireland, but the other names, Banba and Fotla, were used by poets for generations afterwards. Together, the three goddesses signify Sovereignty - the Land.

Meanwhile, the Tuatha De Danann wanted rid of the Sons of Mil, so Amergin advised his people to travel away over “nine waves” and then return. On their arrival back in Ireland, Amergin again spoke a poem, but this was somewhat more respectful.:

“I seek the land of Ireland
Coursed be the fruitful sea
Fruitful the ranked highland
Ranked the showery wood
Showery the river of cataracts
Of cataracts the lake of pools
Of pools the hill of a well
Of a well of the people of assemblies
Of assemblies of the king of Temair
Temair, hill of peoples
Peoples of the Sons of Mil
Of Mil of ships, of barks
The high ship Eriu
Eriu lofty, very green
…………………..

I seek the land of Ireland.”

It seems that Amergin had finally realised that the Land of Ireland, Sovereignty, demanded recognition. His appeal was not to the Tuatha De Danann, but to Eriu who was the Land of Ireland. Eriu acceded to his plea and the Sons of Mil settled on the surface of Ireland. The Tuatha De Danann occupied the Land under the surface - the Otherworld - and later became known as the Sidhe.

Later in the Irish mythological sequence, the hero and demi-god CuChulainn meeets Emer. She agrees to marry him on condition that he completes a number of superhuman tasks that lead him to the Otherworld. In the story of the “Sick-bed of CuChulainn,” he falls in love with Fand (Fann in some versions), a lady of the Sidhe. Fand, as we will see later, is also Sovereignty. His charioteer, Loeg, describes her and the land of the Sidhe:

“They are beautiful women, victorious,
never knowing the sorrow of the vanquished,
The daughters of Aed Abrat.
The beauty of Fann deserves glittering renown;
No king or queen is her equal.

I repeat what has been said to me:
She is a mortal daughter of Adam, without sin.
The beauty of Fann in our days
Is beyond comparison. . . .

In the house I heard the musicians
Playing for Fann.
If I had not made haste to get away
I would have got my hurt from that music.

I saw the hill where the house stands.
Ethne Inguba is a fair woman,
But the woman I speak of now,
Would drive entire armies to madness.”

CuChulainn went to Fand and won a great battle against the enemies of her people. He stayed with her for a month and agreed to meet with her later. Emer heard about the tryst and gathered the women of Ulster, armed with weapons, to help her regain CuChulainn. When she encountered them, she accosted CuChulainn and said:” . .once we dwelled in honour together, and we would so dwell again, if only I could find favour in your sight!” and her grief weighed heavily on her.

CuChulainn averred that Emer would always find favour in his sight. Fand realised that she could not win CuChulainn’s love and recited the following lamentation to him:

“I it is that will go on the journey:
I give assent with great affliction:
Though there is a man of equal fame,
I would prefer to remain.

I would rather be here,
To be subject to thee without grief,
Than to go, though you may wonder at it,
To the sunny palace of Aed Abrat.

O Emer! the man is thine,
And well mayst thou wear him, thou good woman,
What my arm cannot reach,
That I am forced to wish well.

Many were the men that were asking for me,
Both in the court and in the wilderness;
Never with those did I hold a meeting,
Because I it was that was righteous.

Woe! To give love to a person,
If he does not take notice of it;
It is better for a person to turn away
Unless he is loved as he loves.”

After a few more stanzas, in which Fand chastises Emer for gathering the women of Ulster to “kill her in her misery,” Manannan mac Lir, her former husband and “the man of equal fame,” appears to Fand. She makes herself and Manannan invisible to the company and welcomes him with another long poem, some of which is as follows:

“One day I was with the son of Lir,
In the sunny palace of Dun Inber;
We then thought, without doubt,
That we should never be separated.

When Manannan, the great one, espoused me,
I was a worthy wife for him. . . .

When Manannan the great married me,
I was a wife worthy of him. .. . “

Her mind made up, she says farewell to CuChulainn, although he cannot hear her:

“I bid thee farewell, O beautiful Cu;
We depart from thee with a good heart;
Though we return not, be thy good will with us;
Everything is good, compared with going away”

Then she decides to reveal herself and Manannan to the company:

“I shall go with my own husband,
Because he will not show me disobedience,
Now that you may not say it is a secret departure,
If you desire it now, behold me.”

Manannan asks her if she has made her final choice and she responds by saying that “either of the two of you would be a fitting husband to adhere to but. . . .he (CuChulainn) has betrayed me.” The significance of this remark is that Fand, as Sovereignty, has rejected CuChulainn as a suitable partner. He can never become king. She does admit, however, that her reason for accepting Manannan is that he no longer has “a consort of worth equal to thine, but such a one hath CuChulainn already,” implying that Emer has a status equal to her own.

Whatever her status, there is no doubt about Emer’s love for CuChulainn. As in most good tragedies, the depth of her love is only revealed on hearing of his death in one of the most poignant of early Irish poems.

lovely! *s*

CuChulainn killed many men during his brief career. Among them were Calatin Dana, his twenty seven sons and a nephew. Calatin Dana’s wife was pregnant when he was killed and she later bore three sons and three daughters. Each child was blinded in the left eye to give them greater access to magic, the only weapon that could defeat CuChulainn. He finally fell to their combined powers, but not before he and his horse, Liath Macha, wreaked havoc among the attackers. CuChulainn’s death was confirmed when the Morrigan, in the shape of a raven, alighted on his shoulder. At the sight of this, Liath Macha went to bid farewell to Emer. He put his head on her breast and circled three times to the right around her, and she knew CuChulainn was dead. “Emer’s Loud Lament” is a very long poem, addressed to the horse. Here are some extracts:

“Liath Macha!
Great pain!
Great misery!
Great woe
to see you!
No fair powerful
chariot fighter,
victorious in battle,
follows you
with soothing words
to claim you. . .

His lineage captured me,
great dread of him defended me,
his great oath sustained me
my fair battle-victorious first husband
took heed of me. . . . .


Misery!!
Liath Macha, he has not come
with two matched horses before his chariot.
Great grief!!”

Emer then berates all those who had been helped or saved by CuChulainn for not coming to his rescue. She continues:

“Grief for him has crushed me
Loss of him has cut me down
His death has made me weak
I am barren without him.

I have nothing now.

Each heart that loved him
should break
Each ear that heard of him
should never forget
Each tear that were ever wept
should be to mourn him
everlastingly
Each eye that saw him
should weep showers of blood
for the world will end in grief
now he is dead.

I will be seen with no other spouse
there will be no man-faces
boisterous and gift-giving
at my betrothal
for I will find no spouse equal
to CuChulainn..”

This is followed by a section where Emer lists the achievements of some of the other Ulster heroes and shows how much greater were CuChulainn’s. Then she says, still addressing Liath Macha:

“Say that I knew an enchanted time
as his spouse sixteen years.

We are due an end to pain
we follow the shadowy tribes and peoples
Each of us
from augury to certainty
We weep for each other
We lament for each other
We have pity on each other

Life now
is wretched.

We will not meet
another day
Liath Macha!”

What does "the kings could wear seven colours" mean? That they always wore them all together?

No, but they were entitled to wear that many. They probably didn't wear them all at the same time except on ceremonial occasions.

?