The death of Brian
Clontarf, Easter Day 1014

All rivers ran with blood that day
Throughout the continent, skalds say.
So much blood—and such rich blood—flowed.
The pilgrim on the rutted road
Could find no place to drink for blood.
A distant battle caused the flood.

And yet—so contradictory—
A king lay dead in victory.
Now ninety and nine hundred years
Have passed with this tale in our ears
Because a poet thought to say
All rivers ran with blood that day.