Donna Rosenberg - Dagda the Good lyrics

In the fifth age of the world, the divine race of the Túatha Dé Danann possessed great powers of fertility, and Dagda the Good was one of its major gods. He cared for his people because he was the lord of all knowledge. He nourished them because he was the lord of abundance, and he protected them because he was the lord of life and d**h. Dagda could perform great magic. His sk** was evident both in the wondrous objects he possessed and in his own activities. He could control the weather and a**ure a bountiful harvest. He brought forth the seasons, each in its proper order, by playing his harp. He also owned a wondrous bronze Cauldron of Plenty, which fed each person the amount of food he or she deserved yet satisfied the hunger of each. Dagda also owned a grove of fruit trees whose fruit was always ripe. And he had two wondrous pigs; at any time one was cooking in order to be eaten, and the other was living, waiting its turn to be cooked. Dagda's eight-pronged war club was so heavy it would take eight strong men to carry it. With one end of the club he could k** nine people with a single blow; with the other end he could restore them to life. He took this club into battle against the Formorians, the giant race of monsters who were the enemy of the the Túatha Dé Danann. Dagda was as fertile as the forces in nature that he commanded. He loved to eat, and the Formorians once challenged his prodigious appetite. Pretending to be very hospitable, they said, "Welcome, Dagda. We know that you must be very hungry, so we are preparing your favorite meal for you: porridge." Dagda watched with interest as the Fomorians poured into a great cauldron, a pot as large as the fists of five giants, eighty gallons of milk along with flour, fat, and bacon. To this they added whole carca**es of pigs, sheep, and goats. They cooked the mixture over a fire until it boiled and then lifted the pot from its tripod and poured the contents into a hole in the ground. "Now Dagda," they informed him, "we insist you eat your porridge if you wish to remain alive and return to your people. We certainly do not want you to tell the Túatha Dé Danann that the Fomorians are inhospitable and are sparing with the food they feed their guests. We would k** you before we let you tell such a false tale!" Dagda was undaunted by this challenge. He picked up a spoon so large that two humans could recline comfortably in its bowl. With it, he lifted out huge hunks of bacon and salted pork. "It certainly smells delicious!" he exclaimed. Then he proceeded to eat all of his porridge. Using his fingers, he even scraped up and ate the last drops from the bottom of the hole, including some gravel. As he walked off to find a place to rest, the Fomorians laughed at the sight of him. Dagda's stomach was so distended from his meal that he waddled. It was larger than the largest cauldron a large family would possess, and it puffed out in front of his body like a sail on a ship moving downwind. But the last laugh was on the Fomorians. Dagda's purpose in visiting the enemy was to distract them from the coming war and vie his own people more time to prepare for battle. Like the Túatha Dé Danann, the Formorians possessed great power over fertility. When their prince, Bres, was captured by the great warrior Lug of the Long Arms, Bres pleaded with Lug not to k** him. "What price will you pay me for your life?" Lug asked him. "I can promise that your cows will always give milk," Bres replied. "That is not enough," Lug said, "unless you can make the cows live longer." "I cannot do that," Bres replied. "But I can promise you that year after year the Túatha Dé will have a fine harvest of wheat." "That is not enough," Lug responded. "We already have the four seasons. We have spring for plowing and planting, summer for growing, autumn for harvesting, and winter for eating our bread. However, if you can tell me exactly when to plow, when to plant, and when to harvest, I shall give you life." "That I can do," said Bres. "Always perform each of these tasks on a Tuesday." Lug accepted Bres' advice and let him return to the Fomorians.