Bunléitheoireacht Ghalach le Mícheál Rhodes

Bunléitheoireacht Ghalach a h-Aon Deug le Mícheál Rhodes

Eachtra Chonnla Fhionn

Bhí Connla Fionn ina mhac Choinn Céid Cathach, ard-rí na hEireann. Aon lá amháin a bhí sé ina sheasamh lena athair ar Cnoc Ríoga Uisnigh, agus chonaic sé bean análainn achar gearr ó láthair, agus bhí feisteas coimhthíoch uirthi. Tháinig sí chun na háite inar sheas sé, agus d'fhriafraigh sé di, "Cé thúsa, a bhean uasal, agus cad as duit?"

D'fhreagair sí, "Tháinig mé ó Thír na nOg--tír mar nach bhfuil an bás ná an tseanaois ná sárú an dlí ar bith ann. Tugann áitreabhaigh an domhain seo Aos Sí orainn, óir cónaímid istigh i gcnocaibh móra taitneamhacha glasa. Tugaimid an t-am go haoibhinn ag caitheamh fleá agus siamsa. Ní chrionaimid, agus níl bruíonta ná caismirtí ar bith againn."

Bhí an rí agus a chomhluadar faoi dubh-iontas mór, óir cé gur chuala siad an comhrá seo, ní fhaca aon duine ar bith an bhean ach Connla amháin.

"Cé hí seo ar labhair tú léi, a mhic?" arsa an rí.

Ansin d'fhreagair an bhean, "Labhrann Connla le mnaoi óig álainn nach bhfaighidh bás go deo agus nach gcrionfeas choíche. Gráim Connla Fionn, agus tháinig mé é a thabhairt in éineacht liom go Maigh Mheall. An lá a thagann sé liom, is rí a dhéanfar é, agus rialóidh sé Tír na nOg go brách, gan ghol agus gan bhrón. Téigh liom, a Chonnla Fhionn. Tá tú caomh agus tá leicne dearga, muineál bricíneach, agus gruaig bhuí agat! Téigh liomsa, a Chonnla, a ghrá, agus coimeádfaidh tú do mhaise, gan rocaibh sheanaoise, go dtí Lá uamhnach an Bhreithiúnais."

Ansin thosaigh sí ag aithriú dáin:

Do ghruaig bhuí chraobhach, do ghnúis chumtha,
D'fhíor ard maorga, do neart mór,
Is iad go léir a chruthaíonn go bhfuil tú de shliocht Choinn.

Bhí Conn Céid Cathach imníoch faoi an rud seo, agus ghlaoigh sé ar a dhraoi, Corán, a chumhacht a chur in éadan draíochta na mná sí.

"A Choráin, is máistir draíochta thú. Is comhrac é seo nach bhfaca mé a leithéid ó rinneadh mé rí i dTeamhair--comhrac le mnaoi dofheicthe a mheallas mo mhac chun Tíre na nOg lena horthaíbh dochracha. Tá a gliceas thar m'eolas-sa, agus ní fhéadaim a cumhacht a sheasamh. Mura cabhraíonn tú liom, is cleasa agus draíocht na mná sí a thógfas mo mhac uaim."

Ansin tháinig Corán, an draoi, ar aghaidh agus thosaigh sé ag canadh ortha in éadan glóir na mná. Bhí a dhraíocht níos mó ná cuid na mná sí, gurbh éigean di a fhágáil.

Mar a d'fhág sí, chaith sí úll chun Connla, agus láithreach bonn a chuaigh sí as a radharc, agus níor chuala an rí agus a mhuintir a glór a thuilleadh.

Chuaigh an rí agus a mhac ar ais abhaile, agus níor ith Connla aon bia ná d'ól sé aon rud ar bith ach an t-úll ar feadh míosa iomláine. Agus cé gur ith sé den úll gach lá, ní dheachaigh sé i laghad, ach bhí sé chomh hiomlán i ndeireadh na míosa mar a bhí sé ar dtús. Ina theannta sin, nuair a thairg siad dó rud ar bith le hite nó le hól, dhiúltaigh sé é; óir fad a bhí an úll aige, níor mhaith leis aon bia eile a bhlaiseadh. D'éirigh sé anghruama brónach nuair a chuimhnigh sé ar an ainnir sí álainn.

I ndeireadh na míosa, mar a bhí Connla ina sheasamh le hais a athar i measc na n-uaisle ar Maigh Archomain, chonaic sé an bhean chéanna ag teacht chuige aniar. Agus nuair a tháinig sí in aice láimhe, labhair sé leis ar an gcaoi seo:

"Is glórmhar an suíochán atá ag Connla i measc na ndaonnaithe ainnise gearrshaolacha, a fhanas buille uafar an bháis! Ach anois, maidir leis na daoinibh síoróigeanta i Maigh Mheall, nach mothaías seanaois go deo, agus nach eagal leo ar bhás, is iad a fheiceas thú i measc do charad ó lá go lá, i ndálaí do dhúchais. Tá cion acu ort, agus ba mhaith leo go raibh tú ina rí os a gcionn, má thiocfaidh tú liom."

Nuair a chuala an rí focail na mná, d'aithin sé ar a mhuintir ar an draoi a ghlaoch arís.

"Tabhair dom mo dhraoi, Corán, óir feicim go bhfuair an bhean sí cumhacht a glóir ar ais."

Ansin dúirt an bhean, "A Choinn ghaisciúil, tháinig creideamh na ndraoithe chun oinigh bhig i measc na ndaoine ionraice tréana sa tír seo. Nuair a thabharfar an dlí fíréanta ar ais, cuirfidh sé séala ar bheola an deamhain bhréagaigh dhuibh, agus ní bheidh cumhacht ag a dhraoithibh a thuilleadh a ndraíochta cluanacha a dhéanamh."

Anois thug an rí faoi deara nár labhair a mhac riamh aon focal amháin le duine ar bith nuair a bhí an bhean i láthair, cé go labhrfadh siad féin arís agus arís leis. Agus nuair a stad an bhean ag caint, dúirt an rí:

"A Chonnla, a mhic, ar bhog focail na mná do chroí?"

Ansin dúirt Connla, "A athair, tá míshonas mór orm, óir cé go bhfuil cion agam ar mo mhuintir os cionn gach uile ní, ina dhiaidh sin táim lán de bhrón mar gheall ar an mnaoi seo."

Nuair a dúirt Connla é seo, labhair an ainnir leis arís, agus chan sí na focail seo le glór anbhinn--

Tír na nOg agus Tír na mBeo,
Tír gan brón ar bith.
Tá sí i gcéin san iarthar buí,
Ar chladach na mara goirme.
Tá curach luath de chriostal agam,
Nach bhfaca súil bhásmhar go deo.
Tiocfaimid go tír sin roimh titim na hoíche,
I mo churaigh luaith ghil.
Tiocfaimid go cladach na tíre grianmhaire sin,
Gan draoithe 's gan deamhain chomh maith.
Go Tír na nOg, san iarthar buí,
Ar chladach na mara goirme.

Tír aoibhinn a bhfuil gleannta uaine inti,
Sruthanna geala 's mánna féarmhara.
Tír shítheach shámh gan bhás is gan tinneas,
Mar a bhfuil Samhradh ann go deo.

Tír na nOg, san iarthar buí,
Ar chladach na mara goirme.

Tá aoibhnis iontacha do dhaonnaithibh
San iar-inis álainn sin.
Téann an ghrian féin gach tráthnóna faoi,
Isteach ina gleanna a scíth a dhéanamh.
Cé go bhfeictar go bhfuil sí i gcéin
Ar imeall na mara leathaine,
Tiocfaimid chuici sula dtite an ghrian faoi,
I mo churaigh luaith de chriostal.
Cónóimid choíche ar an inis fhéarmhair sin,
Gan bhrón 's gan phian go maith,
I dTír na nOg, san iarthar buí,
Ar chladach na mara goirme.

Is mo churach de chriostal a chosnós thú,
A Chonnla Fhionn, mo ghrá,
Ar na draoithibh 's ar na droch-deamhanaibh,
Go dtagaimid chun an chladaigh iartharaigh sin.
Cónóimid sa tír sin i síocháin 's i ngrá go deo.
Fada ó orthaíbh an draoi,
Fada ó dheamhan an aeir.
Cosnóidh sé thú, a Chonnla Fhionn,
Cosnóidh mo churach geal thú,
Go dtiocfaimid chun an chladaigh bhuí,
Ina bheidh tú ina rí go brách.

Nuair a chur an ainnir deireadh lena canadh, d'imigh Connla ó thaobh a athar go tobann, agus léim isteach sa churach geal de chriostal. Chonaic an rí agus a mhuintir i gcéin iad ag dul os cionn na mara i dtreo luí na gréine. D'fhéach siad go brónach urthu, nó go dté an curach as amharc ar imeall na spéire. Agus níl eolas ag aon duine ar bith ar an áit a ndeachaigh siad chuici, óir ní fhacthas Connla ina dhúchas arís go brách.

The Adventure of Connla the Fair

Connla the Fair was the son of Conn of a Hundred Battles, the High King of Ireland. One day he was sitting with his father on the Royal Hill of Uisneach, and he saw a beautiful woman a short distance away, and she was wearing exotic attire. She came to the place where he sat, and he asked her, "Who are you, noble lady, and where are you from?"

She answered, "I came from the Land of Youth--a land where there is no death nor old age nor any violation of the law. The inhabitants of this world call us the Folk of the Fairy Mound, for we dwell in great, pleasing, green hills. We spend our time pleasantly in feasts and entertainment. We never age, and we never have any strife or contention.."

The king and his company were astonished, for although the heard this conversation, no one saw the woman except Connla.

"Who is this you are talking to, son?" said the king.

Then the woman answered, "Connla is talking to a beautiful young woman who will never die and who will never grow old. I love Connla the Fair, and I came to bring him with me to the Pleasant Plain. The day he comes with me, he will be made king, and he will rule the Land of Youth forever, without weeping and without sorrow. Come with me, Connla the Fair. You are dear and you have red cheeks, a freckled neck, and blond hair! Come with me, Connla, my love, and you will keep your beauty, without the wrinkles of old age, until the dread Day of Judgement."

Then she began to recite a poem:

Your fair, flowing hair, your comely face,
Your tall stately figure, your great strength,
All these things prove you are the progeny of Conn.

Conn of the Hundred Battles was concerned about this, and he called for his druid, Coran, to use his power against the magic of the fairy woman.

"Coran, you are a master of magic. This is an encounter the like of which I have not seen since I was made king in Tara--an encounter with an invisible woman who is beguiling my son to the Land of Youth with her baneful spells. Her cunning is beyond my skill, and I am unable to withstand her power. If you don't help me, the tricks and magic of the fairy woman will take my son from me."

Then Coran, the druid, came forward and began to chant spells against the voice of the woman. His magic was greater than that of the fairy woman, so that she had to leave.

As she left, she threw an apple to Connla, and instantly she disappeared, and the king and his company no longer heard her voice.

The king and his son went home, and Connla did not eat any food nor dring anything except the apple for an entire month. And although he ate from the apple every day, it did not become less, but it was as whole at the end of the month as it was at the beginning. Moreover, when they offered him anything at all to eat or drink, he refused it; for as long as he had the apple, he did not want to partake of any other food. He became very gloomy and sad when he remembered the beautiful fairy maiden.

At the end of the month, as Connla was sitting by his father in the midst of the nobles at Maigh Archoman, he saw the same woman coming towards him from the west. And when she came near him, she spoke to him in this manner:

"It is a glorious seat that Connla has among the miserable short-lived men, who wait for the dreadful blow of death! But now, as for the ever young men of the Pleasant Field, who will never feel old age, and who have no fear of death, they see you among your friends from day to day, in the assemblies of your native land. They love you, and they want you to be king over them, if you will come with me."

When the king heard the woman's words, he commanded his people to summon his druid again.

"Get me my druid, Coran, for I see that the fairy woman has got the power of her voice back."

Then the woman said, "Valiant Conn, the belief of the druids has come to small honor among the strong, honest people in this land. When the true law is given again, it will seal the lips of the lying black demon, and the druids will no longer have power to work their deceitful magic spells."

Now the king noticed that his son didn't ever speak a word to anyone when the woman was present, even if they spoke to him again and again. And when the woman had stopped talking, the king said:

"Connla, my son, do the woman's words move your heart?"

Then Connla said, "Father, I am very unhappy, for although I love my people above anything else, nevertheless, I am full of sorrow because of this woman."

When Connla had said this, the maiden spoke to him again, and she sang these words with a sweet voice--

Land of Youth and Land of Life,
Land without any sorrow.
It is far off in the golden west,
On the shore of the blue sea.
I have a swift coracle of crystal,
Which mortal eye has never seen.
We will go to this land before the fall of night,
In my swift, bright coracle.
We will go to the shore of that sunny land,
Free of druids and demons as well.
To the Land of Youth, in the golden west,
On the shore of the blue sea.
A fair land where there are verdant valleys,
Bright streams and grassy plains.
A peaceful, tranquil land without death or pain,
Where it is always Summer.

Land of Youth, in the golden west,
On the shore of the blue sea.

The people are wonderfully happy
In this beautiful western isle.
The sun itself goes down each evening,
Into its valleys to take its rest.
Although it seems to be far off,
At the edge of the broad sea,
We will come to it before the sun goes down,
In my swift coracle of crystal.
We will dwell forever on that grassy island,
Without sorrow and pain as well,
In the Land of Youth, in the golden west
On the shore of the blue sea.

It is my coracle of crystal that will protect you,
O Connla the Fair, my love,
From the druids and the dark demons,
Until we come to that western shore.
We will dwell in that land in peace and love forever.
Far from the druid's spells,
Far from the demon of the air.
It will protect you, Connla the Fair,
My bright coracle will protect you,
Until we come to the golden shore,
Where you will be king forever.

When the maiden made an end to her singing, Connla quickly left his father's side, and leaped into the bright coracle of crystal. The king and his people saw them in the distance going over the sea towards the setting of the sun. They watched them sadly, until the coracle went out of sight on the edge of the horizon. And no one ever knew where they went, for Connla was never seen again in his native land.

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