Donna Rosenberg - The Ages of the World lyrics

In the beginning, Ireland existed, and it was the world. In the first age of the world, the first race inhabited Ireland. Ladhra, a great leader, had sixteen wives. He was the first person to die on Irish soil, and after his d**h Ireland was buried by a great flood. Ladhra's entire race perished by drowning. For the next 268 years, the land of Ireland remained uninhabited. In the second age of the world, the second race invaded Ireland. This was the race of Partholon, the first of the Irish divine ancestors. The race consisted of forty-eight gods; half were males and half were females. For most of the second age, which lasted for 300 years, the Partholons ruled supreme upon the land. In time, their numbers grew from the original forty-eight to 5,000. When the race of Partholon arrived, Ireland had no gra** or trees, but three lakes and nine rivers already provided fresh water. Partholon created seven additional lakes and made the soil fertile. Then he created three more treeless, gra**less plains, and his people began to till the soil. One Partholon merchant imported herds of cattle, which became the prize of fanners. Another merchant introduced gold. Agriculture became the principal activity, and the community flourished. During Partholon's lifetime, the people built the first houses and guest houses, made the first cauldron, and brewed the first beer from large, wild ferns. They established the beginnings of legal and educational systems and devised formal religious practices involving prophecy and sacrifices. Although this second age was a time of general prosperity, disagreements sometimes disturbed the peace. The first duel was fought, and adultery first occurred. While Partholon was away, his wife and his servant slept together. When Partholon learned of their crime, he demanded that they pay him a price of honor. Partholon's wife replied. that he was at fault rather than she, and it was she who deserved compensation. She argued that a wife was part of her husband's property, and a husband was responsible for protecting his property. In leaving, Partholon had not properly protected his wife. Therefore, she was entitled to the price of honor. The legal system supported Partholon's wife in the dispute, and the judgment against him became the first legal decision in Ireland. The Fomorians, a native race of divine, monstrous sea-people who had inhabited the islands off the coast of Ireland for 200 years, envied the Partholons' abundant food supply and attacked. They fought with their one eye, their one hand, and their one foot, and they were adept in the use of magic. A mighty battle raged between the two races for seven days. Finally, the Partholons succeeded in driving the Fomorians off their land. But the victory was only temporary; the Fomorians returned to their islands, where they watched and waited for their chance to conquer the people who had civilized Ireland. On the first of May, the great feast day of Bel tine that marked the beginning of summer, the entire race of Partholon was destroyed by a strange plague. Ireland remained uninhabited for thirty years. Yet the contributions that the Partholons had made to Irish life remained to enrich the lives of races who came after them. In the third age of the world, the divine race of Nemed (sacred) invaded Ireland. The Nemedians created four more lakes and cleared twelve more plains. They imported sheep, which so thrived upon Irish soil that soon they far outnumbered the cattle of the Partholons. Under Nemedian rule, agriculture became more widespread and the people more prosperous. To protect themselves against the Fomorians, the Nemedians built two forts. Four times the race of Nemed fought against the Fomorians, and. four times they emerged from battle victorious. Then a great disease k**ed Nemed and 2,000 of his people. The Fomorians took advantage of their vulnerability and attacked again. This time they easily conquered the Nemedians in battle, and then they enslaved them. Thereafter, every year on the first of November, the great feast day of Samain that marked the beginning of winter, the Nemedians had to give the Fomorians two-thirds of their children, two-thirds of their milk, and two-thirds of their corn. The Nemedians could devise no way to avoid this devastating tribute. In desperation, they made one final attack upon the Fomorians in which 16,000 of the race of Nemed died. Those Nemedians who survived abandoned their homes and farms and left Ireland. In the fourth age of the world, the race of Fir Bolg invaded Ireland on the first of August, the great feast day of Lugnasad that marked the beginning of autumn. Although the Fir Bolgs consisted of many different tribes, they functioned as one race and lived under one king who held complete power in Ireland. They were the first of the races to survive on Irish soil. Unlike their enemies, the Fomorians, they were not divine. During the reign of the Fir Bolgs, Ireland became more than an agricultural society. The Fir Bolgs were warrior-aristocrats who introduced the iron spearhead. Their king was the first to establish justice in the land, and under his rule the soil became very fertile. The rains fell as gentle dew, and each year's harvest was a bountiful one. Nevertheless, in spite of their warlike sk**s, the Fir Bolgs were defeated by a new wave of invaders. In the fifth age of the world, the divine race of Túatha Dé Danann (peoples of the Mother Goddess Danu) invaded Ireland on the first of May. When they landed, a dense cloud concealed their arrival from the Fir Bolgs. As a sign of their determination to remain on Irish soil, they immediately burned all of their boats; no matter what trials lay before them, they would either have to succeed or die. Their religious leaders, the druids, blew fog and rain clouds over the entire island. These clouds unleashed a torrent of blood and fire upon the Fir Bolgs, causing them to hide in sheltered places for three days and three nights. The religious leaders of the Fir Bolgs cleared the air by performing their own magic spells. Finally, the two races declared a truce of 105 days in order to give each side time to prepare for war. The Túatha Dé Danann were divided into two groups, gods and non-gods. The gods were the artisans, artists, and aristocratic warriors, for they possessed the power and talent of the race. The non-gods were farmers and common laborers of the fields. The Túatha Dé were a very talented and learned race of gods. In the islands of northern Greece they had learned many arts and crafts, along with magic. Their wisdom, their magic, and their four talismans gave them divine power. The three greatest Túatha Dé were Dagda the Good, Lug of the Long Arms, and Nuada of the Silver Arm. Dagda earned his name because he was the god of fertility, and he possessed great sk** in magic. Lug, the god of the sun, emitted a great brilliance during the day and reflected the glow of the sun from dusk until dawn. He and Dagda were the greatest of the Túatha Dé warriors. Nuada was the great king of the Túatha Dé. The first treasure of the Túatha Dé was Dagda's bronze Cauldron of Plenty, which always fed each person the amount of food he or she deserved and yet satisfied the hunger of each person who ate from it. Their second treasure was the Stone of Destiny, which emitted a human cry whenever the lawful king of Ireland stepped upon it. The third treasure of the Túatha Dé was the Spear of Nuada, which always hit its target and brought d**h to anyone it wounded. Their fourth and last treasure was the sword of Lug, which flashed and roared with fiery flames and brought certain victory to whoever wielded it. Lug's sword always longed for the taste of blood and searched for a way to appease its hunger. Lug kept its blade stored in a container of juice made from pulverized poppy leaves, for the narcotic put the sword safely to sleep until it was needed. Once Lug unleashed it, his sword would tear into the enemy and tirelessly slay warrior after warrior, feasting upon their warm blood. By using their great sk** in magic, the Túatha Dé won their first battle against the Fir Bolgs. Their warriors k**ed l,l00 of the enemy, and the few who survived the battle fled to the islands west of the Irish mainland. This became known as the first battle of Mag Tured. In the course of the war, one of the Fir Bolgs cut off the arm of King Nuada. The Túatha Dé doctor and metalsmith worked together to create a silver arm for Nuada that could move with the life and vitality of the original arm. But even with his wondrous silver arm, Nuada was still considered to be maimed. Since the king had to be in perfect health, Nuada of the Silver Arm had to give up his throne. The chieftains of the Túatha Dé Danann chose Bres the Beautiful to replace Nuada of the Silver Arm as king of Ireland. Bres was a son of the king of the Fomorians, but his mother was one of the Túatha Dé and he had been reared among them. The Túatha Dé chieftains hoped that their choice of Bres as king would ensure peace between the Fomorians and their race. However, Bres was a very poor king. He was stingy when he should have been generous. He did not offer beer to his chieftains or grease their knives with fat. He refused to employ musicians, acrobats, downs, and poets to entertain them, for he wished to keep his wealth for himself. He demanded heavy taxes in the form of j**els and food. He also treated the chieftains of the Túatha Dé as non-gods, forcing them to perform menial chores such as carrying firewood, digging ditches, and constructing forts and castles. When Bres foolishly mistreated the Túatha Dé poet, who was the god of literature, he brought disaster upon himself and the Fomorians. Bres sheltered the poet in a barren, dark hut without the comfort of a bed or a fire and gave him only three dry biscuits for dinner. In retaliation, the poet used his magical power with words to curse the king. "May it become the fate of Bres to live as he has forced others to live: without food upon his plate, without cow's milk in his cup, and without the comforts of a house to protect him from the dismal night!" The power of the poet was so great that when the chieftains of the Túatha Dé heard these words they forced Bres to give up the throne of Ireland. Bres asked his father, the king of the Fomorians, to attack the Túatha Dé. His father, hearing the true story, refused to help his son, bur the other Fomorians gathered together a fearsome army and prepared for battle. The Túatha Dé also prepared for battle. Meanwhile, Nuada's shoulder became infected where his silver arm was attached to it. When Nuada heard that the young son of the doctor who had designed his silver arm could perform even more wondrous medical feats than his father, he asked the son to cure his infection. The doctor asked Nuada what had been done with his real arm, and Nuada told hin1 it had been buried. The doctor dug up the arm, placed it next to Nuada's shoulder, and recited the words, ''Arm, join Nuada's shoulder, nerve to nerve and sinew to sinew." After three days and three nights, Nuada's arm returned to life and connected itself to his shoulder once again. So it carne to pa** that Nuada of the Silver Arm was completely healed of his old injury and resumed his position as king of the Túatha Dé Danann. The young doctor's father was so jealous of his son's medical sk** that he raised his sword and struck his son on the head with it, just cutting the skin. The son easily healed his own surface wound. His father then raised his sword and struck his son on the head again, this time slicing through to the bone. Again, 'the son easily healed his wound. His father then raised his sword a third time and truck his son on the head, this time slicing" through to the brait1. Again, the son easily healed his wound. Finally, his father raised his sword a fourth time and struck his son on the head, this time slicing his brain in two. With this stroke, the older doctor k**ed his son. Upon the young doctor's grave grew 365 stalks of gra**. Each blade could cure an illness in one of the 365 nerves in a person's body. The young doctor's sister carefully collected the stalks and arranged them in proper order upon her cloak so that the Túatha Dé doctors could use them to heal their patients. She knew that with these stalks her brother had produced the cures for all illnesses. Her father, however, was so jealous of his son's contribution to medicine, even in d**h, that he overturned his daughter's cloak and hopelessly mixed up the stalks. Thereafter they were useless, for no one could determine which stalk could cure which illness. Lug of the Long Arms arrived at court just after Nuada had returned to the throne. The porter greeted Lug politely but announced, "Although you look as royal as our king, Nuada, you will have to prove that you are master of a particular sk** in order to be accepted among the nobility of the Túatha Dé Danann." Lug replied, "Go before your king and tell him that I am a sk**ed and strong warrior, an excellent carpenter, a fine metalsmith, a gifted harpist, poet, and teller of tales, a knowledgeable doctor, and a talented magician. I challenge King Nuada to produce another of the Túatha Dé Danann who possesses as many sk**s as I do!" When the porter repeated Lug's qualifications to the king, Nuada challenged Lug to a game of chess against the best player of the Túatha Dé. When Lug had won the game, he sat on the Seat of Wisdom and watched as the strongest of the Túatha Dé pushed a huge piece of flagstone across the floor of the palace. The stone was so heavy that it would have taken more than eighty teams of oxen to move it. After the stone had been moved, Lug picked it up, carried it outside, and placed it in its original location. King Nuada then commanded Lug to play Dagda's harp for them. Lug played a melody that was so sad all the gods cried. Then he played a melody that was so cheerful they all laughed. Finally he played a melody that put all the gods to sleep until the following day. Seeing that Lug was indeed as talented as he had claimed, Nuada gave him kingship for thirteen days so that he could direct the preparations for war against the Fomorians. Lug called upon each of the Túatha Dé gods to reveal his or her particular sk**s. The chief magician promised to remove the twelve mountains of Ireland and hurl them as missiles against the Fomorians. The chief cupbearer promised to hide the waters from Ireland's twelve principal lakes and twelve principal rivers so that the Fomorians would find no water to drink Yet these lakes and rivers would continue to supply fresh water for the Túatha Dé, even if the war lasted for seven years. The chief metalsmith promised to create weapons that would not fail those who carried them into barrie. His lances would always hit their targets and k** their victims. Moreover, he would continue to supply fresh weapons even if the war were to last for seven years. The chief doctor promised that, as the battle raged, he would cure the wounded so quickly that they could return to battle the following day. He also advised the Túatha Dé to toss the corpses of their slain warriors into a particular well; his chants would cause the dead to emerge from the well restored to life. The chief druid of the Túatha Dé promised to cause three streams of fiery rain to wash the faces of the Fomorians. Moreover, he promised to remove two-thirds of each Fomorian's strength and courage, while each of the Túatha Dé would receive renewed strength and courage with every breath. Consequently, even if the war lasted for seven years, the Túatha Dé would be able to wage war without tiring. Finally, Dagda the Good promised that his great club, which could bring both d**h and the restoration of life, would crush the bones of the Fomorians as the feet of horses crush hailstones. This eight-pronged war club was so heavy that it would take eight strong men to carry it. In battle, Dagda would pull it behind him on a cart, then lift it and k** nine men with one motion. The Túatha Dé were now prepared. Soon thereafter, the second battle of Mag Tured was fought upon Irish soil. In this fierce combat, both the Túatha Dé Danann and the Fomorians used every kind of magic they possessed. Although the wondrous magic of the Túatha Dé surpa**ed that of the Fomorians, the giants were so strong that the Túatha Dé could not win. Consequently, the battle between the gods and the giants raged on and on. The chieftains of the Túatha Dé had decided that Lug of the Long Arms was so valuable they could not risk his d**h in battle. They had placed him under the guard of nine mighty warriors, but Lug became increasingly impatient with his captivity. Finally he escaped from the guards, climbed into his chariot, and entered the war. He drove among the Túatha Dé warriors shouting, "Be of good courage! It is far better to face d**h in battle than to live as a slave and pay taxes to a conqueror!" The Fomorians saw the brightness of the sun shining forth from among the Túatha Dé warriors and exclaimed, "What dreadful fate is upon us? The sun rises today in the west instead of in the east! Surely that must be Lug of the Long Arms, god of the sun, who will help the Túatha Dé win the war!” Seeing the fields red with the blood of fallen giants, the surviving Fomorians ran for their lives, with Lug and the other Túatha Dé in relentless pursuit. So many Fomorians died in the battle that it would be easier to count the trampled blades of gra** under the feet of many galloping horses, the waves in a stormy sea, the sands upon a beach, the drops of dew upon a broad meadow in the spring, the hailstones in a sudden autumn storm, the flakes of snow in a raging winter blizzard, and the stars in the heavens on a dear night than to count the corpses of the Fomorians. The decisive Túatha Dé victory put a permanent end to the Fomorian threat in Ireland. As the gods were celebrating their victory over the giants, their great war goddess, Badb Catha, stood before the a**embled host and chanted, "We have chased the Fomorians from our land, but all is not well. I see the end of our age and the dawn of a new age. "I see the race of human beings who will invade our land. They will not honor us, and they will not accept our ways. Under their rule, the summers will bear no flowers, the trees will bear no fruit, the cows will give no milk, and the seas will bear no fish. Women will have no pride, men will have no strength, old men will tell no truths, and rulers will not make just laws. Friends will steal from one another, warriors will betray one another, and all that is good and virtuous will perish, from the world." So it came to pa** that in the sixth age of the world, the Children of Mil invaded Ireland on the first of May. They had to sail around the island three times before their 36 ships could set anchor, because the druids of the Túatha Dé Danann had shrouded the land in dense fog. As soon as the Milesians stepped ashore, they were greeted by the Great Goddess Eriu, a queen of the Túatha Dé Danann. "I am the goddess Eriu," she said, "and this land bears my name. I welcome you to this island. You will find none better between the setting sun and the rising sun. It will belong to you and to those of your race who live after you as long as mortals walk the earth. May you honor me by calling this land the land of Eriu, or Ireland." The great druid and poet of the Milesians, Amergin of the Fair Knee, responded, "We thank you, Great Goddess, for your welcome and your gift of this land. We are grateful that you honor us. In return, we promise to honor you and to keep your name upon this island forever!" But Donn, the oldest of the Children of Mil, interrupted. "Goddess, the poet Amergin does not know what his mouth speaks! His mind is clouded and his words make no sense. We owe no gratitude to you, for you have done nothing for us. Our own gods brought us to this land. It is they who will sustain us here, and it is they whom we will honor!" Eriu replied, "Because you cannot accept us along with your own gods, your gods will sustain your race, but they will not sustain you! You will not live to enjoy this land, and no child of yours will either!" Eriu's words proved to be true. Donn drowned very soon thereafter. The Milesians buried him on an island off the western coast of Ireland, which they called the House of Donn. Since that time, whenever one of the Children of Mil dies, his or her spirit goes to live in the House of Donn. Then Amergin said, "Mother Goddess, I ask you to unite your forces with mine and bring prosperity to this land. Bring forth fertility from the mountain, the forest, and the sea. For I, too, have great power. I am the wind that blows upon the sea, the roaring of the surf, the powerful ox, the courageous wild boar, the predatory eagle, the rays of rbe sun, the most beautiful of plants, the imagination of all art, and the champion wielder of mighty weapons. "Like one of the gods," Amergin continued, I can change my shape. Can change the shape of the hills and the valleys. I know the age of the moon. I know where to find springs of fresh water. I can summon the fish from the sea. I see a great battle before us in which we will win victory. We will make our home upon this island, and here we will live in safety and peace.” Amergin and the other leaders of his race then confronted the chieftains of the Túatha Dé Danann and said, "We claim this land as our own. You may submit to our rule, or you may choose to fight us! Know, however, that we possess great power." So it came to pa** that the Túatha Dé Danann fought the Children on Mil. Some chronicles state that the Milesians k**ed the Great Goddess along with a large number of the Túatha Dé Danann, and that those who survived left Ireland. But the common people know the truth. The great gods of the past continue to live in Ireland and will remain there as long as mortals walk the earth. Their spirits dwell within the hills and beneath the earth.