Tain Bo Cuailgne-Cruachan

I see a battle-A blonde man, With much blood about his belt, And a hero-halo ＇round his head, Whole hosts he will destroy. His jaws are settled in a snarl, He wears a looped, red tunic, In thousands you will yield your heads, His form dragonish in the fray. A giant on the plain I see, Doing battle with the host, Holding in each of his two hands Four gore ladened battle-axes. I see him hurling against that host, Two Gae-bolga and a spear, He towers on the battle field, In breastplate and red cloak. Across the bladed chariot wheel, The warped warrior deals death, That fair from i first beheld, Melted to a mis-shape. I see him moving into the fray, Take warning, watch him well, Cuchulainn, Suailtim＇s son! Making dense massacre. The blood starts from warriors wounds, -total ruin, at his touch, Torn corpses, women wailing, Because of him-the forge hound