This is the story of, the lady of the Fir Bolg.
The great one of the earth.
Her sacrifice was great, she paid it with her life.
Her ardour withered and waned.
Through the dead land flowers grow, in the bloodline of the forest.
The parched dry earth of summer, the first rain of Autumn,
Earth laid upon a corpse, in the Cathedral of the living land.
Her funeral was celebrated, with games and tournament.
Her final gift, to her land.
They buried her up high, on a golden autumn day.
A green circle on the distant hills.