Abduction

The fairy woman walked

into my poem.

She closed no door

She asked no by-your-leave.

Knowing my place

I did not tell her to go.

I played the woman-of-no-welcomes trick

and said:

"What's your hurry, here's your hat.

Pull up to the fire,

eat and drink what you get --

but if I were in your house

as you are in my house

I'd go home straight away

but anyway, stay."

She stayed. Got up and pottered

round the house. Dressed the beds,

washed the ware. Put the dirty clothes

in the washing machine.

When my husband came home for his tea

he didn't know what he had wasn't me.

For I am in the fairy field

in lasting darkness

and frozen with the cold there,

dressed only in white mist.

And if he wants me back

there is a solution -- 

get the sock of a plough

smear it with butter

and redden it with fire.

And then let him go to the bed

where lies the succubus

and press her with red iron.

"Push it into her face,

burn and brand her,

and as she fades before your eyes

I'll materialise,

and as she fades before your eyes

I'll materialise."

--Nuala ni Dhomhnaill, trans. by Michael Hartnett (Original poem written in Irish)

Celtic folk tales are rife with stories of faerie abduction, changelings, and situations like this: a faerie taking over your life. The solution usually was violent, and not always effective. You have to watch out for faeries; they're mischievous...