Cumhaidh na Cléire - Lament for the Clergy

Ó d’ imthigh Mac Conshnámha[1] d’ úr-scoth na cléire
A’s an Raghailleach breágh uasal ‘bhí barúil i dtréithe,
D’ fhág siad againn[2] Guaire na féile
An tAthair Ambrós an úr-chroidhe do scaipfeadh na céadta.
Shíl Clann Bhullaidh go gcuirfeadh [siad] é i ngéibheann
Go dtáinig Humbert go muirneach agus na Franncaigh go hÉirinn;
Chuir siad a gcampa i gcill Ealla na séada
Gur bhain siad léimneach as Gallaibh ‘s as bodacha[3] an Bhéarla.
Tháinig aoibh air a ‘ngréin agus ceileabhar éan ins na gleannta
Agus síothcháin ar Ghaedhil bhocht’ (?) ins na ceanntair so go Luimneach;
Bhí mac alla i mBinn Éadair agus lámhach ag Franncaigh
Faoi protection fhághail don Gháirdian Athair Ambrós an deagh-chroidhe.
Go bhfeice sé an lá sin a dtiocfa na sár-mharcaigh tréanmhar,’
Buonaparte bheith i láimh leis agus a ghárda ar gach taobh de,
‘S annisin bhéas na seacht náisiúin ‘gabhail carnadh i naghaidh[4] [a] chéile,
Clann Bhullaidh agus Cromwell ag séanadh a gcuid Béarla.
Do shamhail ní fheicim choidhche, a lámh na daonnacht’ a’s a réidhtigh,
Is tú ‘chuireadh síos na Gallaidh gach lá a’s níor bhaoghal duit,
‘Láthair barra agus binnsí go saorfadh na céadtaí;
Ransom ríghthe go dtabhairfimis x x x x [5] an tAthair Ambrós an treánfhear.

 

Brother John C. Forde’s Translation[6]

Since Father Forde, the glory of the priesthood, has gone,
And the noble Father Reilly of amiable traits,
They left us an equal of the generous hearted Guaire,
Father Ambrose whose charity knows no bounds.
Clan Wolly thought to put him in cruel bondage chain,
Till Humbert and the friendly French came sailing to Erin;
They pitched their camp above Killala’s jewelled main,
And startled the foreign foe and the English speaking race.
The sun was brightly beaming, birds melodied in glen and dale,
And peace came to the Gael from Shannon’s source to sea;
Howth re-echoed to the thunder of the French guns ringing out,
For “protection” they had brought to the “Guardian” Fr. Ambrose.
Oh may he see the day when the strong riders come,
Buonaparte beside him, his escort around;
For then the seven nations will rise one against another,
And Williamites and Cromwellians deny their English tongue.
Your like we’ll never know, Oh generous one and peace-maker,
‘Tis you confused the Gall every day without fail,
Before bench, before bar, gaining freedom for hundreds;
A king’s ransom for your freedom, Father Ambrose we would pay.

Notes

In his presentation of the poem in Irish, Séamus P. Ó Mórdha normalized the scribal spelling and punctuation but gave manuscript readings wherever any changes have been made. The use of square brackets indicates that a particular word is missing in scribal text. Contractions which are not numerous have been silently expanded.

 

Manuscript Readings
1 ó, Mac ánn amha, do. 2 et, Raghaillach, a dtréidhthe. 3 dfág, a cugain (?). 4 ann, scaipeadh, ceudta. 5 Wolly, gcuireadh, a ngéibhionn. 6 Humber, Franca. 7 síad. 8 Bheurla. 9 ídhibh, air a, et ceiliúr aeín. 10 et, air Ghaod- hail. 11 a, aig. 12 Ghárdian, deigh-chroí. 13 bfeicfa, a dtiuca, sáir, tréunmhar. 14 a láimh, air, dhe. 15 an sin bhiaidhis, enaidh. 16 Clann Wolly. 17 réidtigh. 19 ceadtaibh. 20 dtabharfamaois.

 

Footnotes:

  1. Mac ánn Amha in the Ms. Now anglicised Forde, the Amha being popularly associated with átha. [↵]
  2. This word has been written over in the Ms, where it is a cugain. I have made it againn which fits the sense. [↵]
  3. This word has also been written over in the Ms. leaving it bodacha. The original spelling, still decipherable, was bodachaide which indicates, we may take it, O’Flynn’s pronunciation of the word. [↵]
  4. This word has been written over in the Ms, and now looks like edadh. However the original spelling enaidh can still be deciphered. [↵]
  5. There are several words here which I cannot interpret. They appear to be a as faninaois. They are indicated in line 20 by asterisks. [↵]
  6. Clancy, P. S. (2003). Theophilus O’Flynn, Seanchai and Poet. In Ballinaglera & Inishmagrath: The History and Traditions of Two Leitrim Parishes (p. 339). essay, Maura Clancy. [↵]