GLAISTIG LIANACHAIN

Oiche g'an robh an Gille-Dubh-Mòr Mac-Cuaraig a' dol

dachaigh as a' chèardaich, tachrar a' Ghlaistig air mar

a bha e 'dol thar Cùrr aig Bial-àth Chroisg.

One night when Big Black Fellow Kennedy was riding home from the smiddy, he was met by the Glaistig just as he was going over the Cour at the mouth of the ford of Croisg :-

Fàilt ort, 'llle Dhuibh Mhóir, os' ise,
Am b' fèairrd thu cùlag 
B' eadh agus bialag, os' esan —
'S thug e togail bheag mhór oirre,
Bhàrr lóm a chladaich ;
'S cheangail e i air a bhialaobh,
Gu tiarainte, daingeann,
Air muin an eich sgiamhaich,
Le Sian-chrios Fhaolain !
'S bhòidich, 'us bhriathraich e,
Gu dian, ‘s gu h-ascaoin,
Nach leigeadh e slan á 'ghlaic i,
Gus an nochdadh e'n làthair dhaoin' i !
" Leig as mi," os' ise, " 's gheibh thu uam,
Mar chumhlaid, 's mar dhochair :
Làn buaile de chrodh breac,
Bailgionn, dubh, cean-fhionn ;
Buaidh cnuic agus còdhalach,
Ort fhéin 's air do sheòrs' a 'd dheaghaidh."
'S learn sin a'd aindeoin, os' esan,
'S cha-n fhoghainn gu d' fhuasgladh.
" Leig ás mi 's fàgaidh mi d' fhónn,
'S an robh mi 's an tóm a thàmh ;
Agus togaidh mi dhut a nochd,
Air an Fhoich ud thall :
Taigh-mór daingeann, dìge —
Taigh air nach drùigh teine,
Uisge, no saighead, no iarunn;
'S a ghleidheas tu gu tioram, seasgair,
Gun fhiamh, gun eagal, 's bidh sian ort
O Nimh o cheathairn, 's o shìth’chean !"
Coimhlion do bhriathran, os' esan,
'Us gheibh thu do chead uam,

“Greetings to you Big Black Fellow Kennedy” said she, “Would you be the better of a rider behind you?”

“Yes, and one in front” said he and he gave her a little and big lift (?) from the bare ground (shore) and tied her in front of him firmly and securely on top of the neighing horse with the blessed belt of St Fillan and he vowed and said surely and positively that he would not let her out of his grasp until he showed her in the presence of human kind.

“Let me go,” said she “ and you will get from me as a gift and compensation, a fold full of speckled cows, white bellied, black and white headed, possession of hillocks and victory in disputes to yourself and your family succeeding you.”

“I have that in spite of you” said he “ and that is not sufficient for me to release you.”

“Let me go and I shall leave your land where I have been living in that knoll and I shall build for you tonight on that meadow over there a strong stone mansion house. A house which fire won’t penetrate, nor water, nor arrow, nor iron and that will keep you dry and comfortable without fright, without fear and you will have protection from malice, from warriors and from fairies.”

“Fulfil your words” he said “and you will have your freedom from me.”

Leig ise sgal aisde le tùrsa.
A chluinnt' thar sheachd beannan !
Shaoilte gum b'e Còrn-na-fiùbh
A bh' aig Fionn a thug fead as.
'S cha robh sithean, no stùc,
Nach do dhùisg, 's nach d' ath-fhreagair,
'S chruinnich iad taobh-thall an Lòin,
'S iad ri h-òrdugh a' feitheamh.
       Chuir i 'n greim iad le cabhaig,
Gu farasda, rianail;
'S thug iad leacan, 'us clachan,
'A cladach Steall-Chlianaig,
'G an sineadh o làimh gu làimh !
'N Tom Innis a' Chladaich,
Ghearradh cabair 'us taobhain ;
Agus suidheachan fada,
Reith, reamhar, 's a' Chaor'naich’
'S ise gun aon tàmh ag ràdh :
" Aon chlach air muin da chloich,
'S da chloich air muin aon chloich;
Bior, fòid, fair sgolb, 
Gach fiodh 's a' choill,
Ach fiodhagach.
'S mairg nach faigheadh mar a chuireadh,
'S nach cuireadh mar a gheibheadh.''
'S 'an glasadh an latha,
Bha foid thar a dhruim,
Agus smùid deth!

She uttered a loud shrill cry of grief that could be heard across seven hills. You would think it was Fionn’s horn of plenty which blasted out and there was not a fairy mound or rocky hill that did not awaken and respond and they (the fairies) all gathered on the opposite side of the meadow all awaiting her orders. 

She hastily got them started gently, calmly and orderly and they took slabs of stones from the banks of Clianaig Waterfall, passing them from hand to hand. On the hillock of Innis a’ Chladaich were cut rafters and side beams and long flooring planks, smooth and thick from the Caornach and she was ceaselessly saying,“One stone on top of two stones on top of one stone, small sticks, sods, bring roof pins and every kind of timber except bird cherry.

Woe to him that will not get what he was sent for and that will not put it where ordered.”

And at the dawning of day there was turf over its roof and smoke coming from it.

Chum es' an coltar a's teine,

G' a ghleidbeadh o mhiòsta;

O'n a b' eol da mu chleasan,

'S mu gheasan nan sìth’chean

'N uair bha 'n taigh a nis ullamh,

'S a dhiol i gach cumhlaid;

Gun d' fhuasgail e 'n t-Suire,'S cha d' fhuilig e dîobhail!
Seach an uinneag mu 'chomhair,
Gu-n do shìn i dha 'crodhan
A ghabhail leis soiridh:—
Ach gu 'thoirt do 'n t-sìthean !
            Ach shin es' an coltar,
'S lean craicionn à bois' ris,
'Us leum i air clach ghlais
Na Foich’a thoirt binn air !
Thug i mollachd an t-sluaigh air,
'Us mollachd nan uamhlach;
'S ma chreidear na chualas,
Gu-n d' fhuair i a h-ìmpidh :
" Fas mar an luachair —
Crionadh mar rainich —
Liathadh 'n ur leanbain —
Caochladh 'an tréun ur neart —
Cha ghuidh mi gun mhac 'n ur n-aite ! ''
" 'S mis a' ghlaistig-bhròin,
'Bha 'm Fearann an Loin a thàmh,
Thog mi taigh-mor air an Fhoich,
'S chuir e aiceid ann am chòm;
Cuiridh mi fuil mo chridhe 'mach,
Air Sgùrr-Finisgeig gu h-ard —
Air tri tomanan luachracb,
'S bidh iad ruadh gu Là'-bhràth ! "
'S leum i 'n a lasair uaine,
Thar gualainn na Sgurra !

He kept the coulter in the fire to protect him from harm since he was familiar with the tricks and spells of the fairies.

When the house was now complete and she had fulfilled each requirement he untied the fairy being and did not suffer any harm except at the window in front of him she stretched out a little cloven hand (ostensibly) to bid him goodbye but really to take him into fairyland.

But he stretched out the coulter and the skin of her palm stuck to it. She jumped on top of the grey stone of the meadow to berate him. She called down on him the curse of the little people and the curse of the monsters and if what has been heard can be believed she seems to have got her wishes.

“ May you grow like the rushes

 May you grow grey in your youth

 May you die at the height of your strength

 I pray that no heir shall succeed you.”

“I am the witch of sorrow who has been dwelling in the land of Loin. I built a mansion house on the meadow and he inflicted agony to the core of my being. I shall pour out my hearts blood high on Sgur Finisgeig, on three mounds of rushes and they will be red until the Day of Judgement

And she leapt up in a green light and disappeared over the shoulder of the Sgur.

Rough translation of Glaistig Lianachain- anonymous- in Duanaire - a collection of gaelic poems published 1868 by DC MacPherson.