Finn McCool Crosses the Line

I stole a horse from the Faerie Queen,
because I wanted to see my home.
But when we came to the edge of the Worlds,
the horse missed his leap
by a hudred years.
When I dismounted to look around,
and patted his nec,
he nipped my thumb
and ran back into the blinding West.
And with him went the memories
of all my years in the Otherworld,
except what tiny bits and pieces
dripped from my open wound.
When I put my thumb to my mouth to soothe it,
I saw flashes of skies and seasons,
and wondrous deeds too hot to take up
in this chilly mortal world
I had locked myself out.
I remain locked out.
And the warrior brothers I hoped to see –
all bones and dust for a century!
I live again in the world of men,
a stranger one than I left behind
when I broke my oath to guard the West,
and followed a brilliant female form
over the line of the Worlds.

I feel the Fairy Queen always near.
Time and again I have taken a woman
to pushaway the thought of the Queen.
But when I touch the naked skin,
all desire drains from me.
What does she want, this tyrant Queen,
that she ruins me for any bride?
Is it love she seeks when even she warned
that her people may know eternal joy,
but never what we call love?
I soothe my injured thumb with my mouth.
I will never let it heal.
For when I press it to my lips,
I almost see the beautiful face,
almost feel the pale smooth breasts
of my lover, the Faerie Queen!

* Fionn mac Cumhaill in Irish.