Aodh Ó Ceallaigh (1758)
Donnchadh Ruadh Mac Conmara, composed after returning from Newfoundland
The poet Donnchadh Ruadh Mac Conmara lived in St. John’s Newfoundland for a period from 1745-1758. At the time, Donnchadh’s friend Aodh Ó Ceallaigh had also gone to work in Newfoundland, leaving his wife in Ireland. Local gossips spread the rumour at home that Ó Ceallaigh was in poverty and a virtual slave to the Newfoundland cod fisheries. Donnchadh used his poetic skill to both console Ó Ceallaigh’s wife and restore his friend’s honour, in the form of a traditional praise poem.
The poem provides an important first-hand account of life in the cod fisheries at the time. If there was originally a tune for the poem to be sung to, this does not appear to have survived.
Adapted from: Moll, Herman. 1715. A view of a stage & also of ye manner of Fishing for, Curing, & Drying Cod at New Found Land. Map Etching.
Ar maidin inné bhí camadam scéil,
Ag gaige gan chéill dá leathadh ‘dir mhnáibh;
Go bhfaca sé Aodh Ó Ceallaigh go tréith,
I dtalamh an éisc ‘na mhangaire smáil.
Lag marbh san “stage” gan tapa ‘na ghéig,
Ó tharraing an éisc sa tsalainn do ghnáth;
Is Sacsanach méith dá lascadh ar a thaobh,
Ó bhathas go féar is dob ainnis mar phá!
Yesterday morning there was a romantic story,
Being without sense spreading between the women;
That you would always see Aodh Ó Ceallaigh,
In Newfoundland as a filthy peddler.
Half dead on the “stage” without quickness in his limbs,
From constantly pulling the fish through the salt;
And a rich Englishman lashing his side,
From the top of his head to his foot as his pay!
Dob aithne dhom féin fearaibh nach é,
Do chleachtadh an scléip is nach stadfadh ón bpráisc;
Do raghadh i bplé le Sacsanach méith,
I dtTalamh an Éisc is ag baile gan tlás.
Do phlabfadh, do phléascfadh, baithis is plaoscadh,
Do chnapfadh, ‘s do réabfadh, rathacha ’s cnámha,
Le bata, le claíomh, le cleachaibh, le piléir;
Is glacaimse a Aodh Uí Cheallaigh do pháirt!
You would recognize other men beside him,
Who did practice flattery and not stop from the revelry;
Who did go about discussion with the rich Englishman,
In Newfoundland and at home without weakness.
Who would slam, shoot, foreheads and skulls,
Who would hit, and who would tear, hocks and bones,
With sticks, with swords, with stones, with bullets;
And I accept that Aodh Ó Ceallaigh took part!
Más “frolic” le hAodh dul tamall dá shaol,
Go Talamh an Éisc ag caitheamh ‘s ag fáil;
Ní taithneamh leis aon-neach magadh ná bréige.
Bheith ag aithris scéal ann sa mbaile do mhnáibh:
Is fearúil, faobhrach, leanabach, léidmheach,
Calma an Laoch é ag tarraing tar sáil;
Is banna, Is cléirceas, earra ‘gus éadach,
Is airgead réidh aige ag casadh sa bhFál*.
If it is a “frolic” with Aodh to go for a while in his life,
To Newfoundland casting and catching;
No person should enjoy mocking or lying.
To be telling stories there in the town to the women:
He is manly, keen, youthful, daring,
Brave as the Warrior and him rowing across the sea;
And troops, and clerkship, goods and clothes,
And having ready money by the turning of Fall*.
Is tapa do théann ann barca do léim,
Is na flaithis ag séideadh seachtain nó lá;
Is go mb’fhearra leis craosmhuir, gaillean, is gaoth,
Is cranna dá réabadh, ná tarraing an rámha –
A ghlacaibh ba thréan ar halárd a “mainsail,”
Taca is téad dá stracadh go clár;
Do neartaigh sé a chéim i dtTalamh an Éisc,
Is abram go léir go dtaga sé slán!
He goes into a bark with a vigorous leap,
And the heavens blowing for a week or a day;
And he prefers a gaping sea, and storm, and wind,
And split trees, than pulling the oar –
His hands strong on the halyard of the “mainsail,”
Tackle and thread pulled out flat;
He reinforced his step in Newfoundland,
And many say ‘may he go safely’!
Is é an fearaire súgach do chaithfeadh na púint,
Do scaipfeadh an lionn is do lascfadh an clár,
Do chnagfadh sa tsúil aon tSacsanach ramhar,
Do raghadh sa gclúdach i bhfochair a mhná -
Bíonn caga, is crúsca, canna is cúbhar air,
Is bata do lúbfadh na dhorn do gnáth;
Ní chasfadh sé a chúl le fearaibh na Múmhan,
Nó gur mhaslaigh an gúta a chosa ‘s a lámha.
He is the merry champion who would spend the pounds;
Who would distribute the beer and lash the board;
Who would punch any fat Englishman in the eye,
Who would go in the corner near to the women -
There is a keg, and a jug, and a vessel with foam on it,
And their handles usually encircling fists;
He would not turn his back on a man of Munster,
Nor insult the grunting of his legs and his arms.
An té chasfadh le hAodh bheith ag tarraing an tséine,
Nó i mbarra na fléice is barra dá chrá;
Sin damanta daor é má thagann go hÉirinn,
Beannaíd gach éigse cleasa ‘gus bárd;-
Dob fhearra le Gaeil é bheith eatarthu féin,
Ag seasamh san scléip ‘s ag cur eagla ar chách;
Sin anfá ón aedhear i dTalamh an Éisc;
Sin treasdas ar Aodh Ó Ceallaigh óm’ láimh!
Who would reproach Hugh for pulling on the fishing net,
Or at the top of the “flake” and the height of his anguish;
That is a dear condemnation if he comes to Ireland.
He welcomes every learned scholar and bard;-
It would be better for a Gael to be like him,
Standing in ostentation and putting fear on everyone;
He is the tempest from the sky in Newfoundland;
That is a treaty on Aodh Ó Ceallaigh from my hand!
* Mac Conmara defines the word “Fál” (Fall) for other Irish speakers as a local word the Irish fisherman use meaning “Fómhar” or “Autumn.” This may then be one of the few uniquely Canadian dialectical terms in Irish to have ever been recorded.
Adapted from: Doyle, Danny. 2015. Míle Míle i gCéin: The Irish Language in Canada. Borealis Press: Ottawa.
For citation, please use: Mac Conmara, Donnchadh. 1758. “Aodh Ó Ceallaigh.” Ó Dubhghaill, Dónall. 2024. Na Gaeil san Áit Ró-Fhuar. Gaeltacht an Oileáin Úir: www.gaeilge.ca.
