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One day in Almhuin, head to toe in skins,
A man came with his wife,
They offered their service to Finn.

Hunting in the marshlands,
With the Fianna by his side,
Conan began to worry,
This man killed more than Finn.

“Send him to the King of Floods,
Send him far away,
Bring back that cauldron,
That could feed all in a day!”

Finn bade him to go, to meet with that King,
And with that he went to shores of the sea.

Two arms outstretched,
And struck two sticks together,
A great boat rose up and came into view.
He went across the vast seas,
The house in his sight.
The king had a great feast,
The opportunity was rife!

The lad of the skins feigned hunger and thirst,
With that outburst the cauldron was passed,
But no sooner that he had the vessels,
The King of the Floods came with his army,
To get his treasure back.

The lad fought them,
And went to make an end to them.
The silence that befell the shores,
As silent as the dead.
He headed back to Almhuin,
With the cauldron in his grasp,
Back to mighty Finn.

Finn and the lad fought strong and well,
They ran to the King’s Dun,
And beheaded him,
Many were slain, Victory turned to Misery!
When they went back they were attacked, The lad took many forms,
And never held back.

He died of his wounds in the form of a bird, A red flag raised to the shore!

His wife bade Finn
To push her out to the sea,
Violent and chaotic the waves crashed,
A silhouette of warriors stood,
Looking into the horizon.

Finn pushed the boat out,
And the wind and waves heard the call.
Lir took her in his outstretched arms,
And she disappeared...

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