Introduction: Four Expressions of One Man

My name is Oisín, and I am the precious son of a wild deer. My mother Sadhbh could not raise me in the way that most Irish bairn are raised by their mothers. In truth, my mother was not fully human. She was turned into a doe by a druid who jealously wished her to be his, but she spurned him and suffered his wrath in the form of enchantment. She was with my father in human form, but I dwelt in her womb while she was a deer. I was born into the green of her wilderness home, and her animal heart was pierced with the love that only mothers know. Sadhbh left me on a hill to be discovered by my father, for a doe cannot rear a human child, however much she may wish it.

My name is Oisín, and I am the cherished son of a legendary hero. Fionn mac Cumhaill was the leader of a great band of warriors, the Fianna. He first saw me on the hill of Benbulbin while hunting with his great hounds Bran and Sceolan. My doe mother left me there for him to find, and by looking into my eyes he knew I was hers. Memories of love are never fully forgotten, and he remembered the lady Sadhbh in my face. He taught me to speak and be human; his language is the language of my heart and the source of my poetry as a bard. From boy to man, I learned the ways of Fianna and became a warrior under the command of my valiant father. Fionn's own courage runs red in my veins.

My name is Oisín, and I am the coveted lover of a beautiful deity. The fairy woman, the daughter of the sea god, Níamh Chinn Óir, sought me when I was with the Fianna and desired to have me as her own. I still envision her eyes when she asked me to be hers, to return with her to Tir na nÓg, the land of youth. They were full of hope and unmasked longing, blue and green like the sea her father rules, deep and fathomless like the ocean. I went with Níamh to the magical land, driven mad by her beauty, failing to see what I was leaving behind. Tir na nÓg is a surreal, magical place. To be mortal there is to be constantly in a dream, living the life of gods which we humans were never meant to live.

My name is Oisín, and I am a beloved son of Ireland. Of all the sons of the fertile green motherland, it is I who had loved her most. As a bard and poet, I sang songs of her beauty to the men and women of my race. As a warrior, I fought to defend their right to remain Irish forevermore. I died to feel her soil once more beneath the sole of my foot, turning away from Tir na nÓg, land of youth and bliss. Ireland is my land of youth and bliss; none can replace her. In returning, I was agreeing to death, but to die in the embrace of my green mother is better than any life that can be lived. I tell you my story so you can better understand a son of Ireland and fall yet deeper into the knowledge of her mystical beauty.

Image Information Oisín by Justin Cherry Website: myguideIreland