Oidhe Chlainne Lir
Bhí Lir ina chónaí i Sí Fionnacha. Phós sé Aobh, iníon leis an Ardrí, Bodhbh Dearg. Bhí ceathrar leanbh acu: triúr mac, Aodh agus Fiachra agus Conn, agus aon iníon amháin, Fionnuala. Ach fuair Aobh bás agus phós Lir Aoife, an dara iníon leis an Ardrí.
Lir lived in the Fairy Mound of Fionnacha. He married Aobh, a daughter of the High King, Bodhbh Dearg. They had four children: three sons, Aodh and Fiachra and Conn, and one single daughter, Fionnuala. But Aobh died and Lir married Aoife, the second daughter of the High King.
Tar éis tamaill, chonaic Aoife go raibh cion níos mó ag Lir ar an gceathrar leanbh ná mar a bhí aige uirthi féin. Tháinig fearg uirthi agus bhí éad aici leo. Bhí draíocht ag Aoife agus droch-aigne. Thug sí Clann Lir léi gan fhios lá agus rinne sí cheithre healaí díobh ar Loch Dairbhreach.
After a while, Aoife saw that Lir had greater affection for the four children then he had for herself. She became angry and she was jealous of them. Aoife had magic and ill intent. She brought the Children of Lir with her in secret one day and she made four swans of them on Lake Dairbhreach.
“Beidh sibh naoi gcéad bliain i bhur n-ealaí,” ar sise leo. “Beidh sibh trí chéad bliain sa loch seo, trí chéad sa Sruth na Maoile agus trí chéad sa bhfarraige in Iorras. Ach,” ar sise, “fágfaidh mé bhur gciall agus bhur gcaint féin agaibh, agus beidh ceol agaibh. Ní bheidh ceol is binne ná é ar an saol ar fad.”
“You shall be nine hundred years as swans,” she said to them. “You shall be three hundred years on this lake, three hundred on the Straits of Moyle and three hundred on the sea in Iorras. But,” she said, “I will leave you your sense and your own speech, and you will be able to sing. There will not be music sweeter than it in the whole world.”
Nuair a chuala Lir cad a tharla don cheathrar leanbh, bhí sé ar buile le fearg. Chuaigh sé go dtí Bodhbh Dearg agus ghearán sé Aoife leis. Draoi mór ab ea Bodhbh Dearg. Chuir sé fios ar Aoife agus rinne sé deamhan aeir di. Tá sí ina deamhan aeir ón uair sin agus beidh go deo.
When Lir heard what happened to the four children, he was enraged with anger. He went to Bodhbh Dearg and he complained about Aoife to him. A great druid was Bodhbh Dearg. He sent for Aoife and he made a demon of the air of her. She is an air demon since that time and will be forever.
Chuir Lir agus Bodhbh Dearg campa ar bun in aice le Loch Dairbhreach, agus bhídís gach lá ag caint leis na cheithre healaí agus ag éisteacht lena gceol aoibhinn. Ach bhí croí an athar agus an tseanathar faoi bhrón.
Lir and Bodhbh Dearg made camp beside Lake Dairbhreach, and everyday they were talking with the four swans and listening to their beautiful music. But the father’s and grandfather’s hearts were sorrowful.
Ar feadh an trí chéad bliain a chaith siad i Loch Dairbhreach ní raibh an saol go holc ag na cheithre healaí. Bhíodh daoine ag teacht ag caint leo, agus ní bhíodh aon uaigneas orthu. Gach oíche bhíodh bruach an loch lán de dhaoine ag éisteacht leis an gceol álainn a bhídís a chanadh. Níor bhraith siad an trí chéad bliain ag imeacht. Nuair a tháinig an lá deireanach d’fhág siad slán ag a gcairde go léir. D’éirigh siad san aer agus d’imigh siad ar eitilt go Sruth na Maoile.
For the three hundred years that they spent on Lake Dairbhreach the life wasn’t awful that the four swans had. People were coming talking to them, and they weren’t lonely at all. Each night, the bank of the lake was full of people listening to the beautiful music that they did sing. They didn’t feel the three hundred years going by. When the last day came they bid farewell to all their friends. They rose into the air and they departed airborne to the Straits of Moyle.
Ba mhór an t-athrú é ó uisce chneasta Loch Dairbhreach go farraige fhiáin Sruth na Maoile. Bhí an saol go dona cráite crua ag na healaí bochta. Ní raibh cairde in aice leo agus bhí a gcroí briste le brón. Oíche gheimhridh i lár na farraige shéid stoirm uafásach agus d’éirigh na tonnta chomh hard leis na cnoic. Bhí Fionnuala ag tabhairt misnigh don triúr dearthár.
Great was the change from the mild waters of Lake Dairbhreach to the wild ocean of the Straits of Moyle. The poor swans had a bad, tormented, hard life. No friends were near them and their hearts were broken with sorrow. One winter night, in the middle of the sea, an awful storm blew and the waves rose as high as the hills. Fionnuala was encouraging the three brothers.
“Scarfaidh an stoirm an ceathrar againn ó chéile,” ar sise, “ach bíodh misneach agaibh, tiocfaimid le chéile slán arís ag Carraig na Rón.”
“The storm will separate the four of us from each other,” she said, “but have courage, we will come together safe again at the Rock of the Seals.”
Ina dhiaidh sin tháinig tóirneacha agus splancacha. Shéid an ghaoth ar buile, agus bhí sí ag ardú na farraige san aer. Scaipeadh na healaí bochta óna chéile, agus ní raibh a fhios ag ceann acu cá raibh na cinn eile. Ar maidin tar éis na stoirme bhí Fionnuala ar Charraig na Rón ag faire na farraige féachaint an raibh a triúr dearthár ag teacht. Tháinig Conn agus Fiachra agus Aodh, duine ar dhuine, agus chuir sí fáilte le háthas rompu. Ansin chuir sí duine acu faoina hucht agus duine faoi gach sciathán agus lig an ceathrar le chéile a scíth mar sin.
Following that, thunder and lightening flashes came. The wind blew in a frenzy, and it was raising the sea into the air. The poor swans were scattered from each other, and none of them knew where the other ones were. In the morning, after the storm, Fionnuala was on the Rock of the Seals keeping watch of the sea, observing if her three brothers were coming. Conn and Fiachra and Aodh came, one by one, and she welcomed them with happiness. Then she put one of them under her breast and one under each wing and the four together took their rest like that.
Oíche eile, tháinig sioc dubh agus reoigh an fharraige. Chaith siad an oíche sin ar bharr carraige. Nuair a tháinig an mhaidin bhí a gcosa agus a sciatháin ceangailte den charraige ag an sioc. D’fhág siad craiceann a gcos agus cuid mhór dá gclúmh ceangailte den charraig ina ndiaidh. Ach, leis an aimsir, chneasaigh na cosa agus d’fhás an clúmh arís orthu.
One night, black frost came and the ocean froze. They spent that night on top of a rock. When the morning came, their legs and their wings were attached to the rock by the frost. They left the skin of their legs and a large part of their underfeathers attached to the rock behind them. But, in time, the legs healed and the underfeathers grew on them again.
Tháinig an lá nuair a bhí deireadh leis an dtrí chéad bliain i Sruth na Maoile. Ní raibh brón ar Chlann Lir ag imeacht dóibh as an áit sin. D’éirigh siad ar na sciatháin agus thug siad aghaidh siar ar Iorras.
The day arrived when was an end to the three hundred years in the Straits of Moyle. There was no sadness on the Children of Lir for them leaving from that place. They rose on the wings and they set out west for Iorras.
Ba mheasa seacht n-uaire farraige Iorrais ná Sruth na Maoile. Ní raibh cosaint ar bith ann ó neart feargach na farraige móire. Tháinig sneachta mór aon oíche amháin agus tháinig sioc anuas air sin. Reoigh an fharraige go léir idir Iorras agus Acaill. Bhí cosa agus clúmh na n-ealaí ceangailte san leac oighir agus níorbh fhéidir leo corraí. Ba chráite an cás acu é agus bhí an triúr dearthár ag gol.
The sea of Iorras was seven times worse than the Straits of Moyle. There was no protection at all there from the angry force of the great ocean. A great snow came one night and frost came down on top of that. The ocean froze entirely between Iorras and Acaill. The feet and underfeathers of the swans were attached into the ice and they couldn’t move. Tormented it was the situation they had and the three brothers were weeping.
Is fada an tamall naoi gcéad bliain ach tháinig a dheireadh. Tháinig an lá nuair a bhí cead ag na ceithre healaí dul in aon áit ba mhaith leo. D’éirigh siad san aer chun dul abhaile go Sí Fionnacha, go dtí a n-athair. Ach ní raibh i Sí Fionnacha rompu ach neantóg agus dris, agus bhí Lir marbh leis na céadta bliain. Tháinig brón croí ar Chlann Lir agus ghol siad go géar.
Long is the time of nine hundred years but its end arrived. The day came when the four swans had permission to go to any place that they would like. They rose into the air to go homewards to the Fairy Mound of Fionnacha, to their father. But there wasn’t in front of them in Sí Fionnacha but nettles and brambles, and Lir was dead for hundreds of years. Heartache came upon the Children of Lir and they wept bitterly.
Ar feadh mórán bliain a mhair na healaí le hais imeall na tíre, agus théidís ó dheas chomh fada leis an Sceilig agus Teach Doinn. Bhí siad insna hAilichí, i mBéarra, lá agus chuala siad glór nár thuig siad – glór binn cloig. Bhí Naomh Mochaomhóg, seirbhíseach Dé, ina chónaí sna hAilichí, agus tháinig sé go bruach na farraige. Nuair a chuala an Naomh ceol álainn na n-ealaí, labhair sé leo. D’inis Fionnuala an scéal go brónach go léir don Naomh. D’iarr an Naomh ar na healaí dul leis féin. Chuaigh siad leis, agus bhídís sa chill aige gach lá ag canadh.
For many years, the swans survived beside the edge of the land and they went south as far as Skellig Michael and Teach Doinn. They were in Allihies, in the Beara Peninsula, one day and they heard a voice that they didn’t understand - the melodious voice of a bell. Saint Mocaomhóg , a servant of God, was living in Allihies, and he came to the bank of the ocean. When the Saint heard the beautiful music of the swans, he spoke to them. Fionnuala sadly told the entire story to the Saint. The Saint asked the swans to go with himself. The went with him, and he had them in the monastic cell each day singing.
Chuala Banríon Chonnacht go raibh na healaí ceoil ag Mochaomhóg agus d’iarr sí ar an Rí iad a fháil di ón Naomh. Dhiúltaigh an Naomh agus tháinig fearg ar an Rí agus rug sé ar na healaí chun iad a bhreith leis. Ach nuair a chuir an Rí a lámh orthu thit an clúmh agus na cleití díobh agus in ionad ealaí bána ceoil ‘s é a bhí anois ann triúr seanóirí críona cnámhacha agus seanbhean aosta lom gan fuil gan feoil. Tháinig scanradh ar an Rí agus theith sé ón áit.
The Queen of Connacht heard that Mochaomhóg had the musical swans and she asked the King to get them for her from the Saint. The Saint refused and the King became angry and he caught on the swans to take them with him. But when the King placed his hand upon them, the down and the feathers fell from them and in place of the musical white swans it is three greyed, emaciated elders that was now there and an aged old woman, bare, without blood [in her], without meat [on her]. The king became frightened and he fled from the place.
Illustration by Ní Chochláin, Eibhlin. From: ND. “An Scéalaí Tinteáin.” Sraith an Tinteáin. IV. Comhlacht Oideachais na hÉireann: Baile Átha Cliath.
Labhair Fionnuala le Mochaomhóg.
“Tar agus baist sinn, a Naoimh Dé,” ar sise, “mar is eol dom go bhfuil an bás ag teacht orainn anois.”
Fionnuala spoke with Mochaomhóg.
“Come and baptise us, oh Saint of God,” she said, “as I know that death is coming upon us now.”
Bhaist Mochaomhóg gan mhoill iad agus fuair siad bás. Cuireadh síos in aon uaigh amháin iad, le deartháir amháin faoi ucht Fionnuala agus deartháir faoi gach lámh, agus leagadh carraig mhór bhán mar leac uaighe anuas orthu agus tá sí ann fós.
Mochaomhóg baptised them without delay and they died. They were placed down into one single grave, with one brother under Fionnuala’s breast and a brother under each arm, and a great white rock was placed as a grave marker down onto them, and it is still there.
The Grave of the Children of Lir, Allihies, Co. Cork, photographed by Dónall Ó Dubhghaill, 2019.
Adapted from: Sraith an Tinteáin IV: An Scéalaí Tinteáin. ND. Comhlacht Oideachais na hÉireann: Átha Cliath.
