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This is a poem written by Cathal Buí Mac Giolla Ghunna, one of the four most prominent of the south Ulster and north Leinster poets in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. It was later adapted to the well known Irish folk song song “Carrickfergus”. This version below is sung by Seán Ó Sé and includes some lines in English.
Along with Peadar Ó Doirnín, Art Mac Cumhaigh and Séamas Dall Mac Cuarta, Cathal Buí Mac Giolla Ghunna one of the four most prominent of the south Ulster and north Leinster poets in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. He has been described as ‘an Irish-speaking Christy Moore, an incisive ballad singing entertainer for a totally Irish-speaking community of poor people living at or below subsistence in the early 18th Century.
Mac Giolla Ghunna was probably born in Fermanagh and, having initially gone on to be a priest, settled for a career as a rake-poet. It has been remarked about his poetry that ‘of the handful of poems attributed to him, most are marked by a rare humanity, but none can match An Bonnán Buí (The Yellow Bittern) with its finely-judged blend of pathos and humour’. Although “Cathal Buí”, as he is still affectionately termed in the folklore of Bréifne, is now little known in Ireland, his masterpiece An Bonnán Buí remains one of the best known laments and songs in Irish from the past few centuries.
A study of the Bréifne school of poetry is forthcoming from Pádraigín Ní Uallacháin. His memory is celebrated annually in his home country – Blacklion(Cavan) and Belcoo(Fermanagh) with a festival named in his honour, Féile Chathal Buí.
Do bhí bean uasal seal dá lua liom, 's chuir sí suas díom fóraíl ghéar; Do ghabhas lastuas di sna bailte móra Ach go dtug sí svae ['sway'] léi os comhair an tsaoil. Ach dá bhfaighinnse a ceann siúd faoi áirsí an teampaill, Do bheinn gan amhras ar m'ábhar féin; Ach anois táim tinn lag 's gan fáil ar leigheas agam. Is go mbeidh mo mhuintir ag gol im' dhéidh.
Do shiúlaíos Éire is an Mhumhain le chéile Is cois Beann Éadair ag lorg mná, Is ní fhaca éinne ar fhaid an méid sin Do dhein mé phléasáil ach mo Mhalaí Bán. Mná na hÉireann do chur le chéile Is nach mór an t-aeraíocht dom san a rá; 'Sé dúirt gach éinne a chonaic mo spéirbhean. Go dtug sí svae léi ó Chontae an Chláir.
Tá an ghrian ag imeacht is tá an teas ag tréigean Is an tart ní féidir liom féin do chlaoi, Mar go bhfuil an geall orm ó Shamhain go Féabhraí Is ní bheidh sí reidh liom go dtí Lá Mhichíl; Ach geallaim féin daoibh nach mar gheall ar an méid sin A d'iontaíos féinig i gcoinne na dí, Ach mar gheall ar mo chéad searc a dhein mé thréigean - Chuaigh sí ag bailiú déirce dá clann iníon.
Agus táim tinn breoite is mo chos dheas leonta Ó ghabh an ógbhean úd tharam isteach; D'iarras póigín uair nó dhó uirthi, For I'd long to roam with my own sweetheart. For I'm tired of drinking and I'm seldom sober! I'm a constant rover from town to town! But now I'm dying and my days are over - Come Malaí, a stóirín, and lay me down!)
There was a noble lady a short while ago And she put up with my sharp excesses, She was overcome in the towns But she gave her sway in front of the world. But if I could get one of her things from under the arches of the church, I would be without doubt on my subject; But now I am sick and weak, and I have no hope of a cure. And my family soon will mourn after me.
I wandered of Ireland and Munster together And along Howth in search of women, And never saw anyone to measure To make my pleasure, but my White Molly. Irish women to put together And it's almost an entertainment for me to say that It's what everyone says who saw my fair lady. That she gave her sway from County Clare.
The sun is going and the heat is leaving And I am not able to subdue the thirst, Because I'm sure that from November to February She will not be finished with me until Michael's Day; But I promise you that it was not that My own wonder was against her, But because of my first love I did abandon her - She went collecting charity for her daughters.
And I am worn sick and my right foot is From when yonder young woman took me in' I tried once or twice to give her a little kiss For I'd long to roam with my own sweetheart. For I'm tired of drinking and I'm seldom sober! I'm a Constant rover from town to town! But now I'm Dying and my days are over - Come Bags, Misty, and lay me down!)
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