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Windmills Tilted, Scared Cows Butchered, Lies Skewered on the Lance of Reality ... or something to that effect.
Windmills Tilted, Scared Cows Butchered, Lies Skewered on the Lance of Reality ... or something to that effect.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
In Celtic Tradition
CUILINN
OF CUAILIGNE came out of his hill holding in his hand a vessel of red
gold, and he gave the vessel into Finn’s hand. And no sooner did Finn
drink what was in the vessel than his own shape and his appearance came
back to him. But only his hair, that used to be so fair and so
beautiful, like the hair of a woman, never got its own colour again, for
the lake that Cuilinn's daughter Miluchrad had
made for Finn would have turned all the men of the whole world grey if
they had gone into it. And when Finn had drunk all that was in the
vessel it slipped from his hand into the earth, that was loosened with
the digging, and he saw it no more. But in the place where it went into
the earth, a tree grew up, and any one that would look at the branches
of the tree in the morning, fasting, would have knowledge of all that
was to happen on that day. Cuilinn is the Holly.
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