Shattering Swords

Awake, proud Cuchulainn,

From thy deep dark slumber,

Hear the sounds of war-horns

And of swords that are shattering

Awake, proud Cuchulainn,

Haste thee to the battle,

Hear Aoife's war-cries echoing

And the swords that she's shattering

Wielding mighty Dacian steel,

She stands victorious on the battlefield

No hero, nor Scáthach herself

Could ever hope to make her yield

For on this day, so many years ago,

It happened that her prince was slain

Driving his chariot and swinging his sword,

Now she seeks vengeance in his name

Slay, proud Cuchulainn,

Make her warriors bleed

Tides of war are turning

Three heroes at your feet

Now Aoife herself is charging

And your sword will soon be shattering

Three mighty blows the princess dealt

And with the fourth, the warrior fell

His weapon, broken off at the hilt,

Cuchulainn now would soon be killed

Yet, right before the final strike,

Aoife heard Scáthach's distant cry:

"Ah, look, Aoife's two horses and her chariot

They have fallen down the glen and have all perished"

As she paused to glance around,

Cuchulainn sprang up threw her to the ground,

"Life for life", Aoife suddenly cried

"Three demands to me", the hero replied:

"Give in to Scáthach,

Nor ever defy her again,

On this island you'll always remain,

Bear me a son,

Conlaoch be his name!"

To all this, Aoife agreed

For this brave man who had made her yield

Reminded her of her long lost love

And finally she found peace