This week’s poem Cill Chais from my list of top 100 Irish poems is number 44. I am picking these poems every week at random and sharing the meaning behind them.
While I know a little bit of Irish I certainly cannot translate this one. Luckily this poem was translated to English by the Irish poet Thomas Kinsella.
I have included the original in Irish below, along with my notes on Kinsella’s English version.nbsp;
Who wrote it? You’ll often see Cill Chais credited to Aogán Ó Rathaille, and so did my old title. In truth its author is unknown, and modern anthologies usually list it as anonymous, from the 18th century.
What is the poem Cill Chais about?
Upon my first reading, I didn’t really understand the full meaning of this poem. But once I did a bit more research and looked into the history it made a lot more sense.
The Castle of Cill Chais (Kilcash) was the chief seat of one of the branches of the Butler family until well into the eighteenth century. Pictured below:
It is situated at the foot of Sliabh na mBan, not far from Kilsheelan, near Clonmel, County Tipperary.
To the east of the ancient church are the ruins of Kilcash Castle, where Lord Castlehaven, noted Confederate Catholic commander in the 1641-52 war, wrote his memoirs.
The haunting song and poem Cill Cháis laments the lost woods and great house of Kilcash, and its lady is usually taken to be Margaret Butler, Viscountess Iveagh [“Lady Veagh”].
Her first husband, the attainted Jacobite Brian Maginnis (Mac Guinness), having died in the Austrian service.
She married Colonel Thomas Butler of Kilcash Castle, a nominal Protestant who participated in sheltering of many Catholic bishops and priests there.
“What will we do for wood now that the last of the forests are down…”.
The English hacked down the forests so that the Irish couldn’t take refuge in them and raid the planters who had stolen their land. Source: Irish Page
The poem then goes further into the lack of
“Ducks’ voices nor geese do I hear there”
Once you know the meaning behind this poem you realise the sadness it portrays.
Cill Cháis
Cad a dhéanfaimid feasta gan adhmad?
Tá deireadh na gcoillte ar lár;
níl trácht ar Chill Cháis ná ar a teaghlach
is ní bainfear a cling go bráth.
An áit úd a gcónaiodh an deighbhean
fuair gradam is meidhir thar mhnáibh,
bhíodh iarlaí ag tarraingt tar toinn ann
is an t-aifreann binn á rá.
Ní chluinim fuiaim lachan ná gé ann,
ná fiolar ag éamh sois cuain,
ná fiú na mbeacha chun saothair
thabharfadh mil agus céir don tslua.
Níl ceol binn milis na n-éan ann
le hamharc an lae a dhul uainn,
náan chuaichín i mbarra na ngéag ann,
ós í chuirfeadh an saol chun suain.
Tá ceo ag titim ar chraobha ann
ná glanann le gréin ná lá,
tá smúid ag titim ón spéir ann
is a cuid uisce g léir ag trá.
Níl coll, níl cuileann, níl caor ann,
ach clocha is maolchlocháin,
páirc an chomhair gan chraobh ann
is d’ imigh an géim chun fáin.
Anois mar bharr ar gach míghreanni,
chuaigh prionsa na nGael thar sáil
anonn le hainnir na míne
fuair gradam sa bhFrainc is sa Spáinn.
Anois tá a cuallacht á caoineadh,
gheibbeadh airgead buí agus bán;
‘s í ná tógladh sillbh na ndaoine,
ach cara na bhfíorbhochtán.
Aicim ar Mhuire is ar Iosa
go dtaga sí arís chughainn slán,
go mbeidh rincí fada ag gabháil timpeall,
ceol veidhlín is tinte cnámh;
go dtógtar an baile seo ár sinsear
Cill Chais bhreá arís go hard,
is go bráth nó go dtiocfaidh an díle
ná feictear é arís ar lár.
Thomas Kinsella’s English version of Cill Chais is still in copyright, so I have not reproduced it here. The Irish original above is the traditional text of the poem.
Kinsella’s translation keeps the grief of the original. It mourns the fallen woods, the silence where birdsong and a church bell used to be, and the loss of a great house that looked after its people. It closes with the same hope as the Irish, that the lady will come home and Kilcash will rise again.
His version appeared in An Duanaire 1600-1900: Poems of the Dispossessed, the anthology of Irish-language poetry he made with Seán Ó Tuama in 1981. Who wrote the Irish original is still debated. It has been credited to Aodhagán Ó Rathaille and to Father John Lane, and some local historians now date it to the early 1800s, when the woods of Kilcash were sold.
Read the full translation: you will find Thomas Kinsella’s version of Cill Chais in An Duanaire 1600-1900: Poems of the Dispossessed, edited by Seán Ó Tuama (Dolmen Press, 1981).