Famous Poets Hung in Killarney

 

Piaras Feiritear was a nobleman and Irish poet about whom folktales were still told in the early 20th century on the Dingle peninsula, He took an active part in the wars against the English in the 1640s-1650s (Cromwellian War), and is believed to have hidden in a cave on the Great Blasket Island for a time. He was eventually taken prisoner and hung in Killarney. Luckily there were no tourists there at the time.

Many of his poems survive, and though there is no recent edition (that I know of), a collection was published in 1903--Danta Phiarais Fheiriteir, edited by Dineen. It's available as a pdf file through Internet Archive. (The Archive has lots of older Irish and Gaelic books--more Gaelic than Irish, thanks to the National Library of Scotland.)

Leig Diot t’Airm

 

Put down your weapons, lovely woman, 

Unless you mean to wound all men; 

Unless you put those weapons down, 

I will have to bring the law against you.

If you mean to give up your weapons,

hide from now on your twisting hair

Do not show your white throat

 from which no man at all escapes. 

 If you yourself think, oh woman

 that you’ve slain no one, south or north, 

 your quiet eyes’ glance has slain every man, 

though you’ve no knife or axe. 

 Though you think your knee is blunt 

 and though you think your hand is soft,

 they have wounded all who’ve seen them; 

 you’ve no need of shield and spear. 

 Hide your chest white as lime from me, 

 do not allow your bright side be seen;

 for the love of Christ, let no one see

 your bright breast like the flower of the grove. 

 Hide from me your piercing eyes,

 if you want to escape, despite all they’ve killed; 

 for the love of your soul, close your mouth, 

 let no one see your bright teeth. 

 If you are content with all you’ve wounded, 

 woman who has so overthrown me now,

 put down those arms of yours;

 before I myself am put under the ground.

-Piaras Feiritear, (?-1653)

Below is a picture of what remains of his castle. It's quite a bit larger when you're close to it.

Below is a recording of a bit of Una Bhan (Fair-haired Una), a well-known love song from the same era. The author and his love lived in County Roscommon, though the O Coisdealbha (Costello) family were traditionally associated with neighboring east Mayo.  If I remember correctly, the author, Tomas Laidir O Coisdealbha, member of a displaced noble family, also fought against the English.

A poem to a harp, performed as these poems might have been then. The text is in Irish Bardic poetry (Bergin) with translation. It is a great poem,

"You that lures the bird from the flock; that cools the heart; brown, sweet-speaking speckled one, fervent, wondrous, passionate...You favorite of the learned, restless smooth one, sweetly musical; red star over elfmounds, breast-jewel of the High Kings...."

Another poem of the same type as Feriter's poem. The original is also in Danta Gradha, edited by Tomas O Rathaile.

Don’t be tormenting me now, woman;

let us place our wishes together; 

you to be my wife in Clár na bhFionn;  (ie. Ireland)

let us put our arms around one another. 

 Put your mouth, the color of strawberries, 

to my mouth, oh skin like foam;

stretch out your curving white limbs around me, 

over all our quarrels. 

Do not any longer, fair slender one,

be distant or untrue to me. 

Admit me to your bed, soft slender one;

let us stretch out next to one another. 

 Just as I have abandoned, oh smooth side, 

 every other woman in Ireland for your sake, 

 so should you abandon every other man,

 if this is something you are able to do. 

Just as I have given to your white teeth love 

that cannot be measured, 

just so is it proper to give to me
your affection in the same measure.

The cover.

Unfortunately, there was never any Cuid II. O Rathaile produced some great anthologies (Burduin Bheaga; Dainfhocail; Measgra Danta; one of proverbs from an O Longain manuscript), but it sounds like he was a very 'difficult' man.

Children of the Great Blasket Island, probably 1910 -1925.

There are still not many videos of medieval Irish or Gaelic songs or poetry, though I complained of the fact all of two months ago. Here is a modern recording of a song Fraoch a Ronaigh (Heather from Ronay) that is basically a list of places on the island of North Uist in the Outer Hebrides of Scotland. It's  a love song, but to a place.

The group Mouth Music produced a brilliant first recording combining Scottish Gaelic songs and electronic dance music years ago, and there is little has ever come close to it.

And by the way, yes, this is a frivolous stop-gap of a blog post, awaiting time to produce another more ponderous, weighty and incoherent. 

I intend to change the blog to Irish language soon. The thing was originally meant to stimulate the interest in the terrible beauty of the Irish language tradition, the interest of those on little Irish. I suppose, however, there are only so many times one can essentially say the same thing, without becoming repetitive.