Irische Texte : mit ersetzungen und Wterbuch

174
L^
The Death of the Sons of Usnech.
A curse on thee. wizard Cathbad,
That slewest Naisi through a woman!
Sad that there was none to help him,
The one king that satisfies the world!
635. man, that diggest the tomb,
And that puttest my darling from me,
Make not the grave too narrow:
I shall be beside the noble ones.
Much hardship would I take
Along with the three heroes;
I would endure without house, without fire,
It is not I that would be gloomy.
643. Their three shields and their spears
Were often a bed for me,
Put their three hard swords,
Over the grave, gillie!
Their three hounds, and their three hawks
Will henceforth be without hunters —
The three who upheld every battle,
Three fosterlings of Conall the Victorious.
651. The three leashes of those three hounds
Have struck a sigh out of my heart:
With me was their keeping:
To see them is cause of wailing.
I was never alone,
Save the day of making your grave,
Though often have I been
With you in a solitude.