Walk with me in the dank moonlight
through the chill, rising, storm
so we can grasp the majesty
of Dullahan still born.
Without heads his horse and he ride
across the countryside
His head in hand they roam the land
none live where he abides.
A rush of blood, a gory spree
will take the sight of man,
then off they gallop wild and free
Dullahan, head in hand.
Here’s hoping he don’t call your name
for that would be worse by far
your soul would flee and fly with he
a soul as black as tar.
Carry your gold for I am told
this alone does he fear
and we can watch as he rides by
come give us a kiss now, me dear.
The winsome lass took his strong hand
and down the lane they walked
as in the distance hedgerows fired
and hooves clapped as they talked.
The sound drew near, a gate flew wide
the lassie shrieked and ran
so only her randy lad was
taken by Dullahan.
So, don’t think to woo by moonlight
near the shore in Galway
Dullahan hunts with cruel sight
each wayward soul a stray.
*While no-one knows for certain how the Dullahan originated, it is thought that he is the embodiment of the Celtic fertility god, Crom Dubh, who was worshiped by an ancient king of Ireland, Tighermas. Each year, Tighermas sacrificed humans to Crom Dubh, and the usual method was decapitation. The worship of Crom Dubh ended in the sixth century, when Christianity came to Ireland.
* music in About the Poem
Poet: D. Guzzi