"To its hurt the host goes east,
Seeking Cualnge's wild Brown bull.
[2]Warriors' cleaving there shall be,[2]
'Neath Cuchulain's baneful sword!
"No gain will their[b] stout bull be,
For which sharp-armed war will rage;
At the fall of each head's skull
Erin's every tribe shall weep!
"I have nothing to relate
As regards Dechtirè's son.[c]