Co. Mayo
On the deck of Patrick Lynch's boat I sat in deep despair.
With the crying of the weary night and the weeping of the day;
Were it not that full of sorrow from my people forth I go,
By the blessed sun tis royally I'd sing thy praises sweet Mayo!
When I dwelt at home in plenty, thy gold did much abound,
In the company of fair young maids the Spanish ale went round.
It’s a bitter change from those gay days that now I'm forced to go,
And leave my bones on Santa Cruz, far away from sweet Mayo.
They are changed girls in Irrus now; how tall they've grown and high,
With their top-knots and their hair-bags, sure I pass their buckles by.
For it's little now I heed their airs, for God has willed it so,
That I must go and leave them all far away from sweet Mayo.
It’s my grief that Pat O’Loughlin is not Earl of Irrus still.
And that Brian Duff no longer rules as Lord upon the hill.
And that Colonel Hugh O’Grady should be dead and lying low,
And I sailing, sailing swiftly from the County of Mayo.
Condae Mhaigh Eo
Ar an loing seo, a Phaidí Uí Loinsigh, is ea a bhímse ag déanamh bróin,
Ag osnaíl ins an oíche is ag síorghol sa ló,
Ach anois ó dalladh m’intinn, is mé i bhfad ó mo mhuintir,
Dar m’fhocal, is maith a chaoinfinnse Condae Maigh Eo.
Liostáil mé le sairsint ag dul sráid an bhaile mhóir,
Mar cheap mé go mba bhreá an rud dom é nuair a bhí mé bocht óg,
Ó, thug sé gloine is cárta dom agus claimhe le mé a ghardáil,
Is dúirt sé go mb’fhearr dom é ná in Éirinn go fóill.
Is murach bás mo mháthar nach mbeinnse maith go leor,
Bheadh buidéal ins gach lámh liom, is mé i gcomhluadar ban óg,
Ach murach síor-ól na gcártaí, is an dlí a bheith róláidir,
Ní i Santa Cruz a d’fhágfaí mo chnámha faoin bhfód.
Tá Cnoc na Ceathrún Caoile siamsúil go leor,
Tá coiligh is cearca fraoigh ann, is iad go síoraí ag seinm ceoil,
Tá sméara dubha ar chraobha agus úlla boga buí ann,
Tá géimneach bó is lao ann le teacht do fhéile Muire Mór.
Tá punt is fiche amuigh orm i gCondae Mhaigh Eo,
Is ní rachaidh mé dá íoc leo choíche ná go deo,
Ar fhaitíos go mbéarfaí thiar orm is go dtógfaí i ngeall ar fhiacha mé,
Is go bhfáiscfí boltaí iarainn orm go hiallacha mo bhróg.
Go dtaga Cnoc na Cruaiche ar cuairt go hAbhainn Mhór,
Go dtaga an toimín luachrainn ag buachailleacht na mbó,
Go n-osclaítear na coraí atá ar mhullach Bheanna Beola,
Ach ní scarfaidh mo chumha go deo leat, a Chondae Mhaigh Eo.
Is a chomrádaí na dílse, tá mé cloíte go mór,
Dá bhféadfainn is duitse a d’inseoinn dhá thrian de mo bhrón,
Ach ós tusa is túisce a chífeas a maireann de mo mhuintir,
Ó, tabhair mo bheannacht siar leat go Contae Mhaigh Eo.
Joe Heaney's old style singing of the poem:
Co. Mayo
First of all it is not Paddy Lynch's boat but Paddy Lynch that is being addressed, a common trope in Irish verse and recitation.
My trans:
On this boat, Paddy Lynch, I rest in sorrow
Sighing in the night and forever crying in the day
Since my mind is cast in darkness far from my people
For sure I miss Mayo.
I enlisted with a sergeant as I went down the town
Being poor and young I thought it a fine plan
He gave me drink and hospitality and for to protect me a sword
And he told me it was better for me than to be in Ireland forever
Only for the death of my mother I'd be fine
With a bottle in each hand in the company of a gir,
But for the thirsty cards and the power of the law
It's not in Santa Cruz I'd lie beneath the sod.
Carncoll Hill is a place of ease
With fowl and grouse always singing
Blackberries and sweet soft yellow apples are there
And the lowing of cows and calves come Mary's feast day
I owe twenty one pounds in Mayo
Which I am never going to repay
For fear I would be taken on account of my debts
And chained by my ankles
Until Crook Hill visits Avonmore
And the lizard herds the cows
Till tolls are allowed on the crest of the Twelve Bens
My regard for you will never die, O County of Mayo
My faithful comrades I am well defeated
If I could I would relate two thirds of my woe
But since you will earlier see what's left of my people
Take my blessing with you to the County of Mayo
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There was a battle of Santa Cruz de Teneriffe in 1797. It was there Nelson lost his arm in a failed assault on the town.
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