Читать книгу Lyra Celtica: An Anthology of Representative Celtic Poetry онлайн

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“The Broom of Peril,” quoth the bard,

“Young Oscur’s banner, see:

Amidst the conflict of dread chiefs

The proudest name has he.”

The banner of great Fionn we raised;

The Sunbeam gleaming far,

With golden spangles of renown

From many a field of war.

The flag was fastened to its staff

With nine strong chains of gold,

With nine times nine chiefs for each chain;

Before it foes oft rolled.

“Redeem your pledge to me,” said Fionn;

“And show your deeds of might

To Lochlin as you did before

In many a gory fight.”

Like torrents from the mountain heights

That roll resistless on;

So down upon the foe we rushed,

And victory won.

OLD GAELIC

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At Tara to-day in this fateful hour

I place all Heaven with its power,

And the sun with its brightness,

And the snow with its whiteness,

And fire with all the strength it hath,

And lightning with its rapid wrath,

And the winds with their swiftness along their path,