The Celtic Dragon Myth, by J.F. Campbell, [1911], at sacred-texts.com
The Celtic Dragon Myth, by J.F. Campbell, [1911], at sacred-texts.com
On Cluan Fraoich 2 a friend doth sigh
Where doth lie a warrior low
On his bier;
And his moan makes warriors grieve
And bereft of love his spouse.
For Idad's son she doth keen
For whom is named Cairn Laive:
Fraoch mac Idad of soft locks,
Idad's son of raven hair.
Westward there lies Fraoch mac Idad
Who fulfilled proud Mève's behest.
On Cruachan Shee (Sídh) a mother weeps:
Sad the tale—a mother's wail
She grieves sore for Fraoch her son.
Many a field in strifes of old
He had won and behold
Fraoch mac Idad lieth cold.
To Cluan Fraoich comes Find-abair:
She doth weep—a sad ladye;
With tresses soft and curling locks
And her hand
Of Queen Mève proud heroes sought.
Auctor hujus an Caoch O Cluain
1. H-osnadh caraid an Cluan Fhraoich
H-osnadh laoich an caiseal chró
H-osnadh dheanann tuirseach fear,
Agus da’n guileann bean óg.
2. Aig so shear 2 an carp fa’n bh-feil
Fraoch mac Fhiodhaich an fhuilt mhaoith,
Fear a rinn buidheachas baoibh
Is bho’n sloinntear Carn Fraoich.
3. Gul aon mhna an Cruachan soir
Truagh an sgeul fa bh-feil a’ bhean
Is se bheir a h-osnadh gu trom
Fraoch mac Fiodhaich nan colg sean.
4. ’Si ’n aon bhean do nidh an gul
Ag dol d’a fhios gu Cluan Fraoich,
Fionnabhair an fhuilt chais ail
Inghean Mhaoidhbh 3 g’am biaid laoich.
Find-abair of golden hair
Ailill's one daughter she
Lies side by Fraoch to-night:
Of many loved, of many sought
But never a love
But Fraoch had Find-abair.
Her cause of hatred unprovoked Mève found
For Fraoch the best of knights,
Bravest and friendliest:
When love for him she found
Her passion he did scorn
And hence his wound:
Fraoch lies a corpse to-night.
Great was the wrong thus wrought by Mève:
Simply we still unfold
The story old:
(With woman-kind side not in ill)
His death her scheme foretold.
(On Cluan Fraoich a friend doth sigh.)
A rowan tree grew on Loch Mève—
Southwards is seen the shore—
Every fourth and every month
Ripe fruit the rowan bore:
Fruit more sweet than honey-comb,
Its clusters’ virtues strong,
Its berries red could one but taste
Hunger they staved off long.
5. Inghean Orla 1 as úr folt
Is Fraoch an nochd taobh air thaobh
Ge mór fear dha’ dtairgeadh i
Nior ghrádhaich si fear ach Fraoch.
6. Faigheas Meadhbh a muigh fuath
Cairdeas Fhraoich fa fearr an gliadh,
A’ chúis fa’n chreuchd-ta a chorp
Tre gun lochd a dhèanamh ria.
7. Do chuireadh e gu sa’ bhás
Taobh re mnaibh na tug an olc
Is mór am pudhar a thuit le Meadhbh
Inneósad gun cheilg a nos.
H-osnadh.
8. Caorrunn do bhi air Loch Mái,
Do chidhmist an traigh fa dheas;
Gach[a] ráidh [agus] gach mí,
Toradh abaidh do bhi air.
9. Sásadh bídh na caora sin,
Ba mhillse na mhil a bhláth;
Do chongbhfadh an caorrann dearg
Fear gun bhiadh gu ceann naoi tráth.
Its berries’ juice and fruit when red
For a year would life prolong:
From dread disease it gave relief
If what is told be our belief.
Yet though it proved a means of life
Peril lay closely nigh;
Coiled by its root a dragon lay
Forbidding passage by.
A messenger for Fraoch was sent
By Eochaidh's daughter keen—
When sickness sore Mève rent:
"What ails?" quoth Fraoch, "the Queen?"
And Eochaidh's daughter made reply—
Eochaidh of the festive horns—
That ne’er would she be whole
Till her soft palm were full
Of berries from the island in the lake—
Fraoch's hand alone to pull.
"Such I ne’er cull’d," said Idad's son
Of blushing face;
Yet will I what I yet ne’er willed,"
Quoth Fraoch, out of grace.
Sir Fraoch moved forward to his fate
Forth to the lake and swam the tide;
He found asleep the dragon-snake
Around the tree, mouth open wide.
(On Cluan Fraoich a friend doth sigh.)
10. Bliadhain air shaoghal gach fir
Do chuireadh sin fa sgeal dearbh
Gum bu fhóirinn do luchd cneidh
Fromhadh a mheas is e dearg.
11. Do bhi anshástacht 1 ’na dhéigh
Ge ba leigh a chobhar an t-sluaigh,
Péist nimh do bhi ’na bhun 2
Bhacadh dha cách dhul d’a bhuain.
12. Léan easlainte throm throm
Inghean Eochaidh nan corn saor,
Do chuireadh fios leath air Fraoch,
Dh’ fhiosraich an laoch ciod thainig ri.
13. A dubhairt Meadhbh nach bi slán
Mur faigh lán a boise maoith
Do chaoraibh an locha fhuair
Gun duine ga bhuain ach Fraoch.
14. Cnuasachd riamh ni dhearnadh mi
Ar Mac Fiodhaich go ngné dheirg
Ge gar dhéarnas e ar Fraoch
Rachsad do bhuain chaor do Mheidhbh.
15. Gluaiseas Fraoch, b’e fear an áigh
Bhuain a shnámh air an loch
Fhuair a’ phéist is i ’na suain
Is a ceann suas ris an dos.
H-osnadh.
Fraoch, Idad's son, of weapon keen
Of the beast being unperceived,
Of berries red a lapful brought
Mève's longing to relieve.
Though good be that which thou hast brought,"
Quoth Mève of form so fair,
"Nought me relieves, O Champion bold
Save branch from trunk thou bear."
Fraoch gave consent: no fear he knew
But swam the lake once more:
But hero never yet did pass
The fate for him in store.
The rowan by the top he seized
From root he pulled the tree;
And the monster of the lake perceived
As Fraoch from the land made free.
With his gaping maw the hero's hand
He seized in the liquid tide:
Fraoch seized the monster by the jaw,
Would a knife were by his side!
16. Fraoch mac Fiodhaich an airm ghéir
Tháinig o’n phéist gun fhios di,
Thug a h-anultach chaor dearg
Far an robh Meadhbh dh’ a tigh.
17. "Ach ge maith na tugais leat,"
Adubhairt Meadhbh as geal cruth,
"Ni fhóir mis, a laoich luain
Ach slat a bhuain as a bun."
18. Togras Fraoch, ’s nior ghille tiom,
Shnámh a rís air an linn bhuig
Is nior fheud [ne]ach 1 ge mór ágh
Theachd o’n bhás an robh a chuid.
19. Gabhas an caorrann air bharr,
Tharruing an crann as a fhrèimh,
Tabhairt dó [a] chos do’n tór
Mothaicheas do ris a’ phéist.
20. Beireas air agus e air snamh,
Is gabhas a lamh ’na craos,
Do ghabh se-san is’ air ghiall,
Truagh gun an sgian aig Fraoch!
Find-abair of lovely tresses
For Sir Fraoch her love,
Unperceived, a knife she bore;
Fraoch's fair skin the monster tore
And gnawing shore his arm away.
Fraoch, Idad's son, in conflict dire
With the monster's woeful ire:
On the southern strand they fought and fell
And blood the boulders dyed.
Nor short the conflict: in his hand
Fraoch held the monster's head;
Which when the maiden did perceive
On the strand she swooned as dead.
The maid then spake as she awoke
In her palm his hand she placed,
"Though now but food for birds-of-prey,
Thy renown on earth is traced."
And from the death the hero died
The lake doth take its name;
For ever is it hight Loch Mève,
And thus resounds his fame.
(On Cluan Fraoich a friend doth sigh.)
21. Fionnabhair an fhuilt chais áil
Do ran chuige sgian gun fhoir,
Liodair a’ phéist a chneas ban
Is theasgadh a lámh air leodh.
22. Do thuiteadar bonn re bonn
Air traigh nan clach corr fo dheas;
Fraoch mac Fiodhaich is a’ phéist,
Truagh, a Dhé, mar thug an treas!
23. Ga cómhrag ni cómhrag géarr:
Do rug leis a ceann ’na laimh;
Nar chunnaic an nighean e
Do chaidh ’na neul air an traigh.
24. Éir’eas an nighean o’n tamh,
Gabhas an lamh, ba lamh bhog;
Ge ta so ’na cuid nan eun 1
Is mór an t-euchd a rinn a bhos.
25. O’n bhás sin do fhuair am fear
Loch Maidhbh gun lean de’n loch
Ata an t-ainm sin deth gu luan
’Ga ghairm a nuas gus a nos.
H-osnadh charaid.
His body to Cluan Fraoich is borne
A hero on his bier laid low;
And still the mead his name makes known
Ah! pity the survivor's woe.
Cairn-of-the-Hand beside me here
Is named from Fraoch Cairn Laive,
Back he ne’er turned his hand but fought
The foremost when alive.
Belov’d the mouth that friends ne’er scorned
The lips which woman's lips had pressed;
Belov’d the chief, of hosts the lord,
Belov’d the cheeks the rosiest.
Cheek redder than the blood of fawn
Hair darker than the raven's crest,
And softer than the streaming foam,
Whiter than snow Fraoch's waist.
More fringed than meadow-sweet his locks,
Than violet his eye more blue;
Than rowans ripe his lips more red,
Whiter his teeth than woodbine hue.
26. Beirear an sin gu Cluan Fraoich
Corp an laoich gu caisil chró;
Air an gcluain tugadh a ainm
Is mairg a mhaireas d[a éis beó].
27. Carn-laimh, an carn so re m’ thaobh
O laimh Fhraoich do bhidheast son,
Fear nar iompodhadh an treas
Fear ba dheise neart an trod.
28. Ionmhuinn am beul nar ob dáimh
D’am bidis mnai a’ toirbheart phóg
Ionmhuinn Tighearna nan sluagh
Ionmhuinn gruaidh nar dheirg an rós.
29. Duibhe na fitheach barr a fhuilt
Deirge a ghruaidh na fuil laoigh
Fa mhine na cobhar sruth
Gile na an sneachd cneas Fhraoich.
30. Caise na an caisean ’fholt
Guirme a rosg na eidhr’-leac 1
Deirge na partan a bheul
Gile a dheud na bláith feith.
Than mast his spear was higher; his voice
More musical than lute:
No swimmer that with Fraoch could vie
His side by water put.
Broader than door-leaf was his shield,
Whoso could wield it, happy lord!
Long as his lance the arm of Fraoch
Than ship's plate more broad his sword.
Would that Fraoch by heroes bold,
The bestower of gold—fell;
Alas and alas! through a monster's hold
We hear his funeral knell.
(On Cluan Fraoich a friend doth sigh.)
31. Aird’ a shleagh na cranna siúil
Binne na teud chiúil a ghuth
Snamhaidhe do b’fhearr na Fraoch
Cha do shín a thaobh re sruth.
32. Ba leithn’ na comhla a sgiath
Ionmhuinn triath a bhi re druim
Co fad a lann is a lamh
Leithn’ a cholg na clár dhe luing.
33. Truagh nach an comhrag re laoich
Do thuit Fraoch a phronnadh ór
Tuirs’ sin a thuiteam le péist
Truagh, a Dhé, nach maireann fós.
H-osnadh.
18:1 Retold after the Book of the Dean of Lismore, a sixteenth century text. The tale might be entitled: The Tree of Life in Gadhelic Legend. Its teaching might be summarised: Thou shalt not break off the branches from the Tree of Life, nor attempt to uproot it; in the day that thou disturbest it thou shalt surely die. Its guardian is the serpent, the Dragon-Snake (the Mother of Mankind possibly thus typified).
18:2 Fraoch's mead, i.e.
19:1 From the Book of the Dean of Lismore after Dr Cameron's transcription and transliteration in Reliquiæ Celticæ (i. 63). His transliteration is in several places corrected; mac Fhiodhaich is dialectal for mac Fhiodhaidh, mac Idhaidh, old nominative Idad.
19:2 Shiar?
19:3 Recte Maoidhbh.
21:1 Recte Ailell’.
23:1 Amsy = aimiseachd; aimsiughadh, "temptation": fascination? ’N aimcheist mhór a bha na dhiaidh (Gillies; MacLagan).
23:2 A’ Bheithir gharg is miosa nimh (Cameron's Reliq. Celt., i., p. 225).
25:1 or, ach = howsoever.
27:1 na chodaibh éun (traditional variant).
29:1 Yr’ lak (Dean of Lismore’s spelling). A plant is apparently meant as in the other lines: feith "woodbine, honeysuckle (Hogan’s Luibhleabhrán): partan, "berry of the mountain ash" (ib., p. 60).