II. Baile Suthain Sith Eamhna

An Irish poem relating to the Kingdom of the Isles, copied from a fragment (paper) of an Irish MS. written circa A.D. 1600, in the possession of W. M. Hennessy, Esq., collated with a copy contained in the Book of Fermoy (R. I. Academy), transcribed about A.D. 1457.

II.

TRANSLATION

BY W. M. Hennessy, Esq.

I.
Baile suthain sioth Eamhna,
Cruthaidh an chrioch a ttarla,
Raith chaomh os cionn gach diongna
’Nab iomdha craobh fhionn abhla.

I.
A perpetual place is Sith-Eamhna,
Beauteous the territory in which it is found
A fair Rath above every fort,
In which fair apple-trees are plenty.

II.
Eamhoin abhlach as uire,
Teamhoir na tteaghlach mbuaidhe,
Tearc dun na cnoc as caoimhe,
Na mbrot naoidhe (naeighi) n-ur n-uaine.

II.
Eamhain of the apples, the freshest,
The Tara of the victorious households,
Few the duns and hills more fair,
In their young, fresh, green garments.

III.
Eamhuin raith aoibhin ionnfhuar (fhinnfhuar),
Raith as faoilidh fa fhionndan,
Geabhuidh rod go ro seandun,
Bo bheannur og ar ioman.

III.
Emhain, the delightful, cool Rath,
The Rath to which fair art is welcome;
The road to the old fort will
A young-horned cow a-driving take.

IV.
Iomhda an Eamhoin fhinn fhear uir
D’fhearaibh ar a sil saor shuil,
Marcach eich duinn go dioghair
Tre dhreich siodhain ccuir (cuir) ccraobhuir (craebair).

IV.
In bright Emhain of the fresh grass,
Many the men on whom a noble eye looks;
Many the vehement rider of a brown steed
Approaching in peace through the branchy woods.

V.
Iomhda an (ind) Eamhoin (Emain) na n-innbhear (indmher),
Ris nar dhealaigh a doinnfleadh,
Guirt ar na nar a bhfagmar (an fhamur),
Dharbhar ghlan chuirp an choimdeadh (choimghedh).

V.
Many in Emhain of the estuaries
(From which their deep floods have not departed)
The fields tilled in harvest
With clear corn of the Lord’s body.

VI.
Suairc bfhairche fhir an dumha (fir in duma),
Atibh na tairthe meala,
Dul go sidh (cu sid) bhlaith an (in) bhrogha.
Dola go (cu) raith mhin meadha.

VI.
Joyous the estate of the man of the dumha
Which has drunk the showers of honey;
To go to the sweet sidh of the Brug
Is to go to the smooth Bath of mead.

VII.
Eamhain (Em̄) abhlach na n-iobhar
Sleamhain barrdhath a bileadh,
Baile nua san (fan) dubh droighean,
Nar hoilead lugh ua an fhilead.

VII.
The appley Emhain of the yews,
Smooth, top-coloured are its trees;
A new place under the black thorn,
In which was nursed Lugh, descendant of the poet.

VIII.
Eamhain (Em̄) na nabhall ccumhra (cumra),
Teamhair (Temair) Mhanann gan (cin) mheabhla,
As iad (assiat) cuaine saor (saer) Sadhbha,
Abhla craobh (craebh) n-uaine n-Eamhna.

VIII.
Emhain of the juicy apples,
The Tara of Manann, without disgrace;
The noble progeny of Sabia
Are the apples of the green branch of Emhain.

IX.
Tusa (tussa) mac Sadhbha saoire,
As (is) tu an slat (intshlat) abhla as (ar) aille,
Ca dia do bhru na boinne
Do roine ria thu a taidhe.

IX.
Thou, the son of noble Sabia,
Thou the most beauteous apple rod;
What God from Bru of the Boyne
Created thee with her in secret?

X.
A Raghnuill, a ri an (in) diongna,
Ra dhruim (druim) dha (da) thi ar ti tearla (herrla)
Do gheabhae (ghebha) a meic saoir Sadhbha,
Labhra on leic a ttaoibh (ttaeibh) Theamhra.

X.
O Raghnall, king of the fortress,
If thou comest with the object of seeking it,
Thou wilt obtain, O son of noble Sabia,
A sound from the flag by the side of Tara.

XI.
Da madh leat sloigh fhear (bfher) bhfuinigh (fhuinidh).
O bhoinn go mbean (cu mben) re tibhir.
Mo dheit ar mhil ’sar mheadair (megair)
Eamhain mheic Lir mheic Mhidhr.

XI.
If thine were the hosts of the men of the setting (the west),
From Boyne till it touches the Tiber,
Greater to thee for joy and pleasure,
Were the Emhain of the son of Lir, son of Midir.

XII.
A mheic Gofraidh chaoimh (chaeimh) cruthaig,
Nar lo traigh (traid) re taoibh (taeibh) tacair (tacoir),
Ni miadh (miad) leath (lat) e (he) ot athair,
Macathach (mac ath) retre ad rathaigh (rathoigh).

XII.
O son of the fair, shapely Goffraidh,
That withdrawest not a foot in battle;
It beseems not, on thy father’s account,
That any man in thy time should be thy surety.

XIII.
Nior (nir) uaisle (uaisli) inaoi (inai) ri Romhan,
As (is) i do ghnaoi (ghnai) an (in) ghnaoi (ghnai) lainfhial,
Nor uaisle rath riogh (righ) Suiriam,
Na sgath chuilfhiar griobh (gribh) Ghailian.

XIV.
Not nobler was the king of the Romans than thou,
Thy face is the generous face;
Not higher the fortune of the king of Syria,
Than that of the long-tressed griffin of Gailian.

XIV.
Anu ni fhuighbhe (fuidbhi) Eamhain (Emain),
Suirghe mar thu, as tu an cobhair (in chabhair),
Tulchan mar e (he) na aghaidh,
Faghaigh e (he) ar drumchlar domhain.

XIV.
To-day, Emhain will not obtain
A lover like thee—thou art the help;
A hillock like it in comparison,
Find ye it on the surface of the earth.

XV.
Doirse t’ fhearainn (ferainn) as iomdha (imdha),
Soillse inaid (inait) sreabhainn ghorma,
As (is) daoibh (dib) a chraobh (craebh) chuain Eamhna (Emna)
Uaim fhearna, uaim chaomh cnodhbha (chnoghdha).

XV.
Many are the doors of thy country,
Brighter than the blue rills;
Of them, O branch of the stock of Emhain,
Are the cave of Ferna, the fair cave of Knowth.

XVI.
Do raghainnse gan ro (a) luing
Is ann (in) Manainn (Manaind) se (si) mholaim
Go mbeinn (cu mbeind) thuaidh re taobh thfearainn,
Da leanainn uaim chaoimh chorainn.

XVI.
I would go, without a stately ship,
Into this Manainn which I extol;
That I might be north near thy land,
If I followed the noble cave of Corann.

XVII.
Roinnfe (roindfi) ar dho Mhanuinn mhaigh (do Manaind maid) reidh,
Ar raluing is ar ionnshloigh,
Sleibhte ar fhud do ghort n-glainreidh
Tug daighmheinn ort a fionn bhoinn (find bhoind).

XVII.
The smooth-plained Manann, thou wilt divide in two,
For fleets and also for large armies;
The hills along thy clear level fields,
That have given thee beauty, O fair Boyne.

XVIII.
Coisgfe ar (fher) agus airgfe,
Loisgfe teagh agus tolgbfae (tolcfaidh),
Nar ladh caor ar dho ceardchae,
Seargfae ar a lar caol colpae.

XVIII.
Thou wilt restrain menslaughter, and wilt plunder,
Thou wilt burn houses and wilt demolish;
That no bolt may fall on thy forge,
The narrow Colpa thou wilt dry up.

XIX.
Airgfe Ath cliath an chomhlainn,
Is do sgiath ar sgath do ghlanbhuinn,
Ait toighe ar ttocht (thocht) go Duibhlinn,
Cuinghim ort roimhe a Raghnuill.

XIX.
Thou wilt plunder Ath-cliath of the combat,
With thy shield guarding thy clear side;
The site of a house, on coming to Dublin,
I ask of thee in advance, O Raghnall.

XX.
A Raghnaill, a ri an Domhnan,
A ri dha ttabhraim (da thabhraim) tulgradh,
Ad dhiaigh um chnoc o Colman,
Buaidh orghan stoc is sdurghan.

XX.
O Raghnaill, O King of the Domhnan;
O king, to whom I give ardent love;
After thee, about Cnoc-O’Cholman (Tara),
Shall be organs, trumpets, and clarions.

XXI.
Maith theangnamh, cruaidh do chroidhe,
A fhlaith ceannghlan chuain Mhuile,
Cloidheamh cruaidh oigfhir eile
Beire a truaill bhroighib (broigil) bhuidhe.

XXI.
Good thy prowess, brave thy heart,
O bright-headed prince of the harbour of Mull;
The hard sword of another young man
Thou wilt bear in a yellow-bordered scabbard.

XXII.
Do shleagh dhearg ar dho (do) dhearnainn,
Gach fear a searg (scarc) re a slimrinn,
Gombi (cumbi) a grainne (graine) tre a ghlandruim (geal no glan),
Saidhe a Raghnuill i (hi) a n-ïmlinn.

XXII.
Thy red spear in thy right hand,
With (from) whose slim (sharp) point every man is in love (sickness),
Until its edge is through the clear back,
Thrust it, O Raghnaill, in the navel.

XXIII.
Geibhe ghlaic (glaic) a cuirr chairre (cnairre),
Geibe shlait (slait) nduinn gan duille,
Do theid (teit) chruinn (cruinn) shleamhain (slemain) sreinge,
Seinne a cuirr leabhair luinge.

XXIII.
Take, in thy round, stout hand,
Take a brown leafless rod,
Thy round smooth, strung rope,
Whilst we are on the poop of thy roomy ship.

XXIV.
Sibhse fir na mbarc mbreactha.
Ni mo chin tracht na ttiocfa (ticfa),
Aitnidh dhaoibh troigh re toptha (tophta),
Do ghoin ochta caoimh chniochta.

XXIV.
You, ye men of the speckled barks,
I love not the strand to which ye come not;
To you is known the quick step,
To the wounding of the bosoms of noble knights.

XXV.
A ua ghil Gofraidh Mhearaigh (Mheraigh),
A fhir do lotraigh luirigh,
Do mhoid (moit) a ri re (ri) rioghain (righain),
Do dhiogail si ar a suilibh.

XXV.
O fair descendant of Godfrey Mearagh,
O man that hast hacked coats of mail;
A king has boasted to a queen,
That he would avenge thee before her eyes.

XXVI.
A mheic (mic) Ghofraidh fheil fearrdha (fherrdha),
A mheic reidh sochraigh shadbha,
Dho bhloghais do moigh (bhloigh) dhomhna (domna),
Chomhla solais ngloin ngarrdha.

XXVI.
O son of generous manly Godfrey,
O mild sedate son of Sabia;
Thou hast broken off from Magh-Domhna (a part of Domhna)
The clear bright garden gate.

XXVII.
A ua Lachluinn na laoidheang
A ua glan Chuinn na ngeibhionn
Iarrfam (iarfain) cuan ar cul Arann
Ag (ac) sur traghann nfhuar n-eirionn (n Erenn).

XXVII.
O descendant of Lochlainn of the ships;
O fair descendant of Conn of the fetters;
We will ask a harbour behind Aran,
Whilst searching the cold strands of Erin.

XXVIII.
Iomdha (Imda) ad luing ar lar bhleighe (bleidhi),
Ris nach buing sal na suidhe (snidi),
Peisd is i na hor bhuidhe,
Is duine ag ol di dighe (dhighi).

XXVIII.
Many is the goblet in the hold of thy ship,
Fixed and untouched by the brine;
Circled by a serpent of yellow gold,
Out of which a man quaffs a drink.

XXIX.
Deocha dod (dot) chuirm (cuirm) nom ceanglann (nomcenglann)
Do mhuirn ga muirn nach diongbhann,
Duadh (duna) ga nibhe ni fhoghbham,
Mire chormann bfhuar (fuarr) bFhionnghall.

XXIX.
Draughts of thy ale bind me;
What delight does not thy delight repel!
Fatigue in quaffing it I feel not;
Merrier it is than the cold ale of Fingal.

XXX.
Ceim (ceir) ad thigh (atigh) ar ti comhoil.
Fir dhon fheinn a ri ad ralaimh
Easgra (escra) caomh fad chuirm nglanthuair,
Laom (laem) ra ghuail nguirm ar gabbail.

XXX.
To advance into thy house to banquet,
Men of the Fiann, O King, are at hand,
Fair goblets are under thy clear cool ale,
As the blaze of blue coals is ascending.

XXXI.
A Radhnaill a ri Cola
Gach ni ad ghlanluing do gheabha
Rug ar shluagh sniomh an mhara,
Fion tana fhuar na heala.

XXXI.
O Raghnall, O King of Coll,
All things in thy fair ship thou ’lt find;
Which to the host has the winding sea brought—
The thin cold wine of the swans.

XXXII.
[B]og an dream re (ac) dail rochruidh,
Fearr ina a dhail go (cu) dochraid,
Cruaidhe ne fir re (ri) fearthoin (ferthoin),
Fearchoin (ferchoin) cuaine (chuaine) ghil Ghofraidh.

XXXII.
Generous the band in distributing stock;
Better this than to deal it niggardly;
Hardy the men for fighting—
The man-dogs of the pack of fair Godfrey.

XXXIII.
Beri bhuidhin (bhuighin) mbrat ccuanda (cuanna),
Lat do na muighibh mora
Gluaisid gaoth dhod chionn craobha,
Mar chaonna (caenda) fhionn mhaoth mhona (find maeth mona).

XXXIII.
Take a company elegantly clothed
With thee, from the great plains.
May the wind blow over thy topmasts
Gently, as the rustling of soft white moor-grass.

XXXIV.
Aithne ar dho (do) bharr ag bandail (cun banail),
Anall tar faithche fhainn fheoir,
Gluaisid cuirn do chuil chlann uir,
Mhall (mall) shuil nguirm n-uir (uir) dha haindeoin.

XXXIV.
The women will admire thy head,
As thou comest past the prone-grassed green;
Before the rustling of thy youthful locks
The soft blue eye will unwillingly move.

XXXV.
Dorad (dorat) daoibh (daibh) snuadh ar shambchnaibh,
Ag ad (acat) shluagh a shaoir shochraig,
Leaga corn ur re a n-aighthibh (n-aighthibh),
Aithghin shul ngorm o n-Gofraidh.

XXXV.
The choicest of hues on happy limbs
Is with thy army, O noble, honest chief;
As the sounding of full trumpets before their faces,
Is the glance of the blue eye of Godfrey’s heir.

XXXVI.
Do rosg (rosc) mar bhogha an (in) bharraidh (barraid),
Ag tocht tar rogha an (in) rinn fheoir,
Cosmhail blath do chuil choimmoir,
Re snath bronnoir uir dhinneoin.

XXXVI.
Thine eye is like the modest hyacinth
Peeping through the surface of the pointed grass;
The hue of thy flowing locks is like
Fresh thread of gold from the anvil (or furnace).

XXXVII.
Ni tearc a craobh ur eadtrom (etrom),
Searc (serc) dhod (dot) chul shaor mar seadbharr (sedbharr);
Ni tug (tuc) bean (ben) ead (et) ar thogbhonn (tocbonn),
A gheag (gheg) brogdhonn (broccdhonn) gheal gheagmhar (ghegmhar).

XXXVII.
Not scarce, a fresh, light branch,
Is love for thy glorious gem-like locks;
No woman has been without jealousy regarding thee,
Thou brown-white mighty scion of a great branch.

XXXVIII.
A ghoill do gleire an (in) bhrogha (brogha),
Mar teidhe (theighi) tar moing mhara,
Ruisg chuanda (cuanna) a cuirr na heala,
Buinn gheala gruadha glana.

XXXVIII.
O Gall of the choicest of the Brugh,
As thou goest across the surface of the sea;
Bright are thine eyes, thou of the swan-like neck,
The white feet and the clear cheeks.

XXXIX.
Camdhlaoi ar chaoin (camdlaidarchain) do dhonnbhairr (donnbharr),
A i (hi) Amhlaoibh shaoir sheangdhuinn,
Red laochlaimh reidh a Raghnaill,
Samhlaim eill maothbhain meamruim.

XXXIX.
On thy brown head is a twisted tress,
Thou descendant of the noble, slender-brown Amhlaibh;
To thy soft hero-hand, O Raghnall,
I compare a strip of soft white parchment.

XL.
Samlaim do li is li an chubhair,
A Raghnaill as ri ar Eamhain (Emain),
Realta (relta) ghlas mall fad (fat) mhalaigh,
Samail bharr na n-gas n-geamhair (ngedhair).

XL.
Thy colour I compare to the hue of foam,
O Raghnall, who art king over Emain;
Under thy brows are slow blue stars
Like to the tops of blades of corn-grass.

XLI.
Maith thinneall chuil (tindell cuili) is cheibhe,
Ar a silleann (sillenn) suil uaine,
Gris chaomh ar ccar (char) a smaile,
Aille thaobh nglan do ghruaidhe.

XLI.
Good is thy arrangement of tresses and locks,
On which a blue eye looks;
With noble ardour is inflamed
The bright surface of thy cheek.

XLII.
Taobh gruaidhe uir dho ionnlais,
Craobh uaine ad (at) shuil mar shamfhrais,
Ar fhraoch thfuilt (hfhuilt) a i (hi) Fhearghais (Fherghais),
Do earmais (ermais) gaoth (gaeth) phuirt Parrthais.

XLII.

Thy fair fresh cheek thou hast bathed;
In thine eye is a blue beam soft as summer showers;
Over the locks of thy hair, O descendant of Fergus,
The wind of Paradise has breathed.

XLIII.
A fhir na greadha gile,
A fhir na heala duibhe,
Garbh shaithe agus min mheile,
Sgin (scin) eimhe blaithe buidhe.

XLIII.
O man of the white steed;
O man of the black swan,
The fierce band and the gentle mood,
The sharp blade and the lasting fame.

XLIV.
Tugais (tucais) ruaig mhadhma ar Maoilbheirn,
Is badhbha uaid na hurdhuirn,
Iomdha a n-glinn fir faonmhaidhm,
A (o) shaorbhaidhbh ghil shing shul ghuirm.

XLIV.
Thou hast inflicted a rout-defeat on Maelbheirn;
Fierce on thy part were the heavy blows;
Numerous are the men dispersed in the glen,
O (from the) noble bright slender blue-eyed hero.

XLV.
A i (hi) Chuinn, a i (hi) Chormaic,
Gus an luing na luing raidhbhric,
Sgaoi (scai) do chreich ar each (ereach) ionnraic,
Do iomlait neach eich aimhghlic.

XLV.
Descendant of Conn, and descendant of Cormac
Thou with the speckled ship of ships;
Pursue thy raids on a worthy steed;
For a foolish steed carries one astray.

XLVI.
Olc dhuinn (dhunn) gan an (in) ghlais (glais) ghaibhnionn (ngaibhnenn),
Anocht ga chul (cul) tais tiormfhann (tirmfhann),
Olc dhunn (dhun) gan an dubh soighleann,
Ar sgur goirmsheang ur Fhionnghall.

XLVI.
Evil for us that the Glas-Gaibhnionn
Is not now in her soft dry sloping corner;
Evil for us that the Dubh-Soinglenn
Is not now in the brilliant stud of Fingal.

XLVII.
Mo chuairt thall tuillmheach dhamhsa,
A bharr suairc druimneach donnso,
Do guala a ri saor seaghsa,
Leamsa ar don i ’sa n-orsa (hi san orrsa).

XLVII.
Profitable to me was my visit yonder,
O joyous, diademed, brown head;
Thy shoulder, O noble king of Seghais
Were to me equal to this gold.

XLVIII.
Ar n-dol damlisa od dheaghthoigh (ot degh thoigh),
Mhalmsa ni halmsa dochraig,
Measa an teagh riogh dha (da) rachair,
Marthain ag siol geal Ghofraidh.

XLVIII.
On my going from thy good house,
My alms were not pitiful alms;
No better king’s house canst thou go to;
Long life to the bright race of Godfrey.

XLIX.
A mheic Gofraidh ghuirt Mhuile,
Do ghuirt gonfaidh ar n-aire,
Tain go trachtaibh do thighe,
Biri o thraigh mbarc ghloin m-baile.
Baile Suthain.

XLIX.
O son of Godfrey of Mull’s field
Our attention shall thy fields retain;
Spoils to the shores of thy house bear thou,
From the bright-barbed Traigh-bhaile.

Notes.