Then when Grania was certain of Diarmuid’s death she gave out a long
very pitiful cry that was heard through the whole place, and her women
and her people came to her, and asked what ailed her to give a cry
like that. And she told them how Diarmuid had come to his death by
the Boar of Beinn Gulbain in the hunt Finn had made. When her people
heard that, they gave three great heavy cries in the same way, that
were heard in the clouds and the waste places of the sky. And then
Grania bade the five hundred that she had for household to go to Beinn
Gulbain for the body of Diarmuid, and when they were bringing it back,
she went out to meet them, and they put down the body of Diarmuid,
and it is what she said: I am your wife, beautiful Diarmuid, the man
I would do no hurt to; it is sorrowful I am after you to-night.
I am looking at the hawk and the hound my secret love used to be
hunting with; she that loved the three, let her be put in the grave
with Diarmuid.
Let us be glad to-night, let us make all welcome to-night, let us be
open-handed to-night, since we are sitting by the body of a king.
And O Diarmuid, she said, it is a hard bed Finn has given you, to be
lying on the stones and to be wet with the rain. Ochone! she said,
your blue eyes to be without sight, you that were friendly and generous
and pursuing. O love! O Diarmuid! it is a pity it is he sent you to
your death.
You were a champion of the men of Ireland, their prop in the middle
of the fight; you were the head of every battle; your ways were glad
and pleasant.
It is sorrowful I am, without mirth, without light, but only sadness
and grief and long dying; your harp used to be sweet to me, it wakened
my heart to gladness. Now my courage is fallen down, I not to hear
you but to be always remembering your ways. Och! my grief is going
through me.
A thousand curses on the day when Grania gave you her love, that put
Finn of the princes from his wits; it is a sorrowful story your death
is to-day.
You were the man was best of the Fenians, beautiful Diarmuid, that
women loved. It is dark your dwelling-place is under the sod, it is
mournful and cold your bed is; it is pleasant your laugh was to-day;
you were my happiness, Diarmuid.
(Lady Augusta Gregory)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Man Poems, Light Poems, Death & Dying Poems, War & Peace Poems, Sense & Perception Poems, Place Poems, Cry Poems, Kings & Queens Poems, Beauty Poems, Happiness PoemsBased on Keywords: ochone, fenians, open-handed, grania, diarmuid