Step Back, Warrior

I am Cuchulain, hound of Ulster.

Step back, warrior, and do not catch my eye.

Raise your hand against me and I will cut it off.

Come against me in your multitude and there will be

An ecstacy of slaughter.

We may laugh and drink

And swap our tales of battle at the feast

But give to me the champion's portion every time,

For I have painted my way to glory

With the blood of your kin

And I can write my legend

In your gore.

No individual hero falls before me,

His deeds to be remembered.

When the battle madness is upon me

You are but ŵheat before my scythe.

And I have slain my own son

And brought down my beloved boyhood friend.

There is no man's life I will hesitate to take.

Step back, warrior,

And do not catch my eye.