My ruination was of my own seed
Mere kingship of the Laighin I coveted
When all she coveted was greed
Each deed she did perform
Was as if my lands had been clove by the Lochlainn's axe
Weak she goaded, weak she scolded
As I did consolidate my borders
From the threat of the foreigner black
But Gormlaith ruined that by cuckolding with a Fionngall fat
Leader of the thieves who stole Áth Cliath
Troublesome and lustful of greed
As was the whore herself
And so was my fate bound ever tighter to hers
Marriage followed marriage, ending finally in conflict
Gleann Mama a time I would like to forget
Rekindled by that usurper's pup
Weak she goaded, weak she scolded
"Brían be more noble than you"
A temper uncontrolled my weakness be
Before I'd recovered, she had laid her trap
Before I had time to return to Naas she had started this battle of which now I am part.
The Whore I name her and here be the reason, her legs did spread so she would have her way.
And so her army consisted of foreigners leering – she had offered herself for that day.
What a day, what a day. Blood fills the rock pools. The dead drift away.
Entrails and guts and heads litter the battlefield. Lochlainnaigh ships swept out to sea by Mac Lír and his Minions and now they cannot flee so now they will join me.
This would be amusing if this were sung in verse by a Bard at a kingly fire
Alas it be me Mael Mórdha ranting.
I see Mór Ríogán and my own funeral pyre.