Táim Sínte ar do Thuama {I am Stretched on Your Grave}

I took this photo of my family cemetery a couple of years ago, and it reminds me of a 17th century Irish poem Táim Sínte ar do Thuama {in English I am Stretched on Your Grave}.

 

Here is the poem in Gaeilge:

 

Táim sínte ar do thuama agus gheobhair ann de shíor mé.

Dá mbeadh barra do dhá láimh agam, ní scarfainn leat choíche.

A phlúirín is an tsearc sé ann domsa luí leat.

Mar tá boladh fuar na cré uait, dath na gréine is na gaoithe.

Is nuair is dóigh le mo mhuintir go mbímse ar mo leabaigh.

Is ar do thuama sea a bhím sínte ó oíche go maidin.

Ag cur síos ar mo chruatan is ag cruaghol go daingean.

Sí mo chailín chiúin, stuama do ghluais liom ina leanbh.

Is tá na sagairt is na bráithre gach lá liomsa i bhfearg.

D'fhonn a bheith i ngrá leat a stórmhnaoi is tú marbh.

Dhéanfainn foithnín ón ngaoth duit, is díon díot ón bhfearthainn.

Agus brón ar mo chroíse tú a bheith thíos ins an talamh.

Is an gcuimhin leatsa an oíche úd a bhíosa agus tusa.

Fé bhun an chrann draighnigh, is bhí an oíche ag cur cuisne.

Céad moladh le hÍosa nár dheineamar an milleadh.

Is go bhfuil an choróin Mhaighdein mar chrann soilse inár gcoinne.

Is tabhair mo mhallacht dod' mháithrín is ní áirímse d'athair.

Is a maireann de do chairde gach lá faid a mhaireann.

Nár lig dom tú a phósadh is tú beo agam i do bheathaigh

Mar nach n-iarrfainn mar spré leat ach luí leat sa leabaigh.

Is tá brón ar mo chroíse atá líonta le grá dhuit.

Is an londubh taobh thíos dó atá chomh dubh leis na háirne.

Sara dtiocfaidh aon ní orm is go gcloífidh an bás mé

Ó béadsa i mo shí gaoithe romhat thíos ar na bántaibh.

 

{source}

 

Here is an English translation:

 

I am stretched on your grave
And I'll lie there forever
If your hands were in mine
I'd be sure they could not sever
My apple tree, my brightness
It's time we were together
For I smell of the earth
And am worn by the weather.

 

When my family thinks
That I'm safely in my bed
From morn until night
I am stretched out at your head
Calling out to the earth
With tears hot and wild
My grief for the girl
That I loved as a child.

 

Do you remember the night we were lost
In the shade of the blackthorn
And the chill of frost
And thanks be to Jesus
We did all that was right
And your maiden head still
Is your pillar of light.

 

The priests and the friars
They approach me in dread
Because I still love you
My love and you're dead
I still would be your shelter
Through rain and through storm
And with you in your cold grave
I cannot sleep warm.

 

So I am stretched on your grave
And will lie there forever
If your hands were in mine
I'd be sure they could not sever
My apple tree, my brightness
It's time we were together
For I smell of the earth
And am worn by the weather.

{source}

 

Here is a video of the Gaeilge version beautifully sung by Diarmuid Ó Súilleabháin: