This is a well written poem by Charles MacCabe, the sincere expression of a grief that must have been deeply felt. It is his lamentation for his dear and beloved friend, Terence Carolan, at his grave in the Church of Kilronan, County Roscommon. This version printed in Connellan's Duanaire [Fonna Seanma] , pg 34 is incomparably the best. ...O'Sullivan vol 1 pg 106.

le Cathaoir Mac Cába 1. Nach í so an chuairt easbhach a laguidh mé réis mo shiubhail, Ar uaigh me charad is mharbh sin radharc mo shúl. Ní bhfuair mé 'falcadh na ndeór go h-úr, Ach cruaidh-leasc dhaingean is leabuidh don chré ró-chumhang.

by Anonymous How vain this visit which has left me weak after my journey, At the grave of my friend, and it has struck the sight from my eyes. Nothing I found when shedding my tears anew But a hard, closed tomb and a strait bed of clay.

2. Ní tréan no labhairt 's ní mheasaim gur cúis náire, Óir is éan bocht sgaite mé ó chaill mé mo chúl báire. Níl pian, níl peanas, nil galra chomh trom chráite Le éag na gcarad nóscaradh na gcompánach.

Feeble my speech, and I think it no shame, For I am a poor, forspent bird, since I have lost my captain. There is no pain, no torment, no distress so heavy and grevious As the death of friends and the parting of comrades.

3. Mo léan is mo dheacair, mo mhilleadh, mo bhrón 's mo chrádh! Do cheól-chruit mhilis, do bhinneas 's do shaidbhreas dáin! Cia thóigfeadh ar dhuine bheith ar builenó i bpéin mar táim, Agus déora fola bheith a' sileadh 'do dhe.igh gach la?

My grief and my trouble, my ruin, my sorrow, my woe! Thy sweet harp-music, thy melody and thy wealth of song! Who would blame me for being frantic or in pain like me, With tears of blood falling every day for my loss?

4. Táim-sé chomh lag soin 's nach dtig liom choidh che éirighe, Mo nuar! nach bhfuillim curtha le Torlach i n-éinfheacht! A liag, nárb é an t-aiteas bheith i dtaisgighe a láthair, Le ceólta an domhain bheith agad mar chompánach!

I am so weak that I cannot ever arise, Alas! that I am not buried along with Turlough! O tombstone, what joy it were to be laid with him, With the world's music to be with one for company!

5. A mhic Rónáin na cille, nach oirdhearca na cnámha Tá agat-sa feartaighthe, ó is feasach Mas Cába: Ó Duígeanáin ollamh is Cearabhlán dántach Sínte le Lasair i dtír Thuathail, cois Oillinne!

O son of Ronam of the churchyard, how illustrious the bones That with thee are interred, as is kenned by MacCabe: O'Duigenan the learned and Carolan the songfull Laid beside Lasir in the land of Tuathal, hard by Allen!

6. Ghuidhfe mé chum Lasair, an Sainct Doimnic is Pádraig Is a bhfuil dár muintir ar dhídin na cathreach neamhdha, Go raibh ro-chkumaoin faoilte do anam Thorlaigh i n-a n-árus-- Is a liachtuidhe port siansamhuil do shin sé ar a'gcláirsigh!

I shall pray to Lasair, to Saint Dominic and to Patrick And to all of our people within the abode of the heavenly city That the soul of Turlough may enjoy the reward of ease in their mansions--- And how many merry tunes did he play on the harp.

7. Tráth luighim ar leabaidh ní chodlamnn mo shúil aon támh, I bpiantaibh deacrach 's an arraing 'dul thríd mo lár, Ó fheascair go maidin ag faire na h-oidhche go lá-- A Thorlaigh, a charaid, 's tú d'fháguigh mo cheann mar táim.

When I lie on my bed my eyes find no rest in sleep, With grevious pains and a sharp shaft piercing my breast, From evening till morning watching through the night until day, O Turlough, my friend, it is thou who hast left my head as it is.

8. Míle is seacht gcéad, ochtdéag is fiche go dian Ó theacht Mhic Dé dár saorawdh ó bhruid na bpian Nó gur feartadh i gcré an éigse b�/irde clú, Cearabhlán céillidhe, céimeamhuil, ceólmhar, ciúin.

One thousand, seven hundred, eighteen and twenty for sure Since the Son of God came to save us from the captivity of pains Until there was laid in the clay the poet of highest renown, Carolan the wise, the honored, the musical, the gentle.

See also Carolan's Farewell to Music which covers his death.

Music: This is not the air for this elegy. I have not found one in the literature, but I think it appropriate to play Carolan's air called: Separation of Body and Soul.
Source: Carolan, the Life and Times of an Irish Harper by Donal O'Sullivan vol 1, pg. 106, pub by Routledge
St. Ronan, 6th cen. gave his name of Kilronan, St. Lasair, his daughter and a virgin is buried in Kilronan

Note: These is another version of the elegy for Carolan and it is found on pg. 167 No, 54 of O'Máille's book Amhráin Cearbhalláin, 1916.

Back to Carolan Tunes Page