The Writing of the Táin

So to those saints that ancient warrior, Fergus,
Having been called from out his low, sad grave,
Had taught this history, this Táin Bo Cooley,
With its beginning and its deeds and end,
E’en as it had been acted in old days
Before the holy Faith had come to Erin.
And when he so had taught them all this tale,
He went from them; and the blind mist and fog,
Which had been round them, went; and they saw there
Only the flag-stone in that lonely place,
And the slow stream beside it. Then each saint
Left with his friends his tender, faithful blessing;
And each fared forth to his own place in Erin,
To his own cell, or church, or field, or hill.
But agéd Shen'-cawn went with holy Kieran
To Kieran’s holy field; and, as they went,
They crossed Moy Wee, and passed old, high Rath Croohan,
And passed the Place of Graves, where many mounds
Were green above high-kings and queens of Erin,
And above many kings and queens and princes
And noble chiefs of Connaught. There were buried
Al-yill and Maev — within their deep, green mound,
Enclosed from Gael and stranger. There were buried
In turfy mounds the seven sons of Mahga,
Brethren of Al-yill’s mother. There were buried
The seven Mahn-yas, sons of Maev and Al-yill,
In one mound, side by side. And there was buried
Dawthy, the last renowned high-king who reigned
Ere the Faith came to Erin: he, at warfare
In far-off Latin lands, had burned the home
Of a most holy hermit, and had died,
Slain by God’s lightning on the Alps; whereon
Awley, his son, had brought him o’er far seas,
For burial in Rath Croohan.

But those two,
Shen'-cawn and Kieran, left that heathen field,
And fared south-eastward; and at eve they came
To Kieran’s Green, to holy Clonmacnoise,
To Clonmacnoise upon a flowery slope
Amid a rushry by the pure, bright Shannon,
Where all was blest and still. And in that place
In after-time a sacred School and City
Should rise — Neev Kieran’s City — and should grow
Like a tall tree, whence rule and truth and wisdom
Should spread through half the land. And in that place,
Even in dew-bright, red-rosed Clonmacnoise,
Under rich, carven flags there should be buried
In after-time great kings and lords and chiefs,
And many prayerful abbots and wise bishops,
And many poets, who in after-days
Should die in faith. Yea, and Neev Columkillé
Said that, because of God’s great love for Kieran —
Sweet helper of the oft-times erring Gael —
It was at Clonmacnoise that the white souls
Of Erin should be gathered and assemble
Around Neev Patrick, when the Judgment-horn
Should blow from high Croagh Patrick o’er lands
And hills and vales and sacred greens of Erin.
But at that time, when agéd Shen'-cawn came
To that blest place, there were but nine small cells
Of wattled boughs, and one small oaken church;
And in that place there was not yet one grave.
Then, when they so had reached that fair, blest place,
Neev Kieran took the wonder-working hide
Of his dun cow, who had fared forth with him,
Taking her calf, when he himself had fared —
He being young — to high renowned Clonard,
To learn beneath Neev Findian; and that cow,
While he was there learning pure truth and wisdom,
Had stayed with him, and always faithfully
Sustained him with her milk. He took that hide,
Which he had ever cherished tenderly;
And of that hide he made a noble book;
And in that book he wrote the Táin Bo Cooley,
With its beginning and its deeds and end,
E’en as it had been acted in old days
Before the holy Faith had reached their land;
That this famed history, this Táin Bo Cooley,
Which had been taught them by that warrior, Fergus,
Who had been sent from out his lonely grave,
Might so be known in after-days in Erin.