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