Peacach agus Oilithreach
(Sinner & Pilgrim)
(Sinner & Pilgrim)
A Synod Culture Event
This evening of culture will incorporate elements of poetry, music, Gaeilge and local history marking the tercentenary of the birth of Tadhg Gaelach Ó Suilleabháin.
The poet Tadhg "Gaelach" O'Suilleabháin was born in Tournafulla in 1715. Most of his well-known poems were of a religious nature and he wrote these poems while he was living in Dungarvan, Co. Waterford. Tadhg also lived in East Cork for a while. From about 1760 on, his life changed and he became a pilgrim and it was at this time that Tadhg began to write his religious poems. He died in Waterford Cathedral in 1795 and after his death, the first edition of his poetry was published in Limerick.
The evening will be hosted by Neilus de Róiste.
The key note address will be given by Salvador Ryan with poetry readings by Canon Micheál Liston and music by a variety of local musicians.
The evening will be hosted by Neilus de Róiste.
The key note address will be given by Salvador Ryan with poetry readings by Canon Micheál Liston and music by a variety of local musicians.
Iomainn á chanadh Gile mo Chroí do- chroí-se
Mo Ghrá-sa mo Dhia
Dr. Salvador Ryan is Professor of Ecclesiastical History in St Patrick’s College, Maynooth since 2008. Alongside Bishop Brendan Leahy he has co-edited two volumes of Treasures of Irish Christianity.
Date: Friday 29 January
Venue: Devon Inn Hotel
Time: 7.30p.m.
Céad fáilte roimh ghrástaibh mo Thiarna anois.
=========
This famous religious poem was written by Tadgh Gaelach O'Suilleabháin 1715-1795. Tadhg Gaelach O'Suilleabháin was born in Meenteenowen in the parish of Tournafulla. He was possibly educated locally but it is also suggested that he received further education abroad as he spoke Latin, Greek and Hebrew.
He ended his days in Waterford and it is said that he was forever praying for a "bás Naofa, Lá Naofa, in áit Naofa" ('a holy death, a holy day, in a holy place'). He died on a Sunday in Waterford Cathedral after receiving Holy Communion and is buried in Ballylaneen cemetery. The first edition of his poetry was published in Limerick after his death.
It is sung here by the famed 'Cór Chúil Aodha', founded by Seán Ó Riada in the late 1960s.
The poem is sung to a melody composed by and arranged by Seán Ó Riada as part of his remarkable setting of the Mass in Irish.
From the CD 'Seán Ó Riada - Ceol an Aifrinn & Aifreann 2', Gael Linn, 2005.
Text in Irish and in English / Téacs sa Ghaeilge agus sa Bhéarla:
He ended his days in Waterford and it is said that he was forever praying for a "bás Naofa, Lá Naofa, in áit Naofa" ('a holy death, a holy day, in a holy place'). He died on a Sunday in Waterford Cathedral after receiving Holy Communion and is buried in Ballylaneen cemetery. The first edition of his poetry was published in Limerick after his death.
It is sung here by the famed 'Cór Chúil Aodha', founded by Seán Ó Riada in the late 1960s.
The poem is sung to a melody composed by and arranged by Seán Ó Riada as part of his remarkable setting of the Mass in Irish.
From the CD 'Seán Ó Riada - Ceol an Aifrinn & Aifreann 2', Gael Linn, 2005.
Text in Irish and in English / Téacs sa Ghaeilge agus sa Bhéarla:
Duan Chroí Íosa
('Hymn to the Heart of Jesus')
Gile mo chroí do chroíse, a Shlánaitheoir,
agus ciste mo chroí do chroíse a fháil i m' chomhair
ós follas gur líon do chroí dom' ghrása, a stóir,
i gcochall mo chroí do chroíse fág i gcomhad.
The light of my heart your heart, o Saviour,
and the treasure of my heart your heart to have in my presence
since it is clear that your heart filled with my love, o beloved,
in the hollow of my heart your heart leave in store.
Ar fhuilingís trínne, a Rí ghil ard na gcumhacht,
ní thuigim im' smaointe a rííomh ná a thrácht i gcóir,
is gur le goradhghoin nimhe do chroí is do chneása, a stóir,
do bhrostaigh na mílte saoi go sámh i gcoróin.
About what you suffered through us, o bright high King of the powers,
my mind is unable to measure or to describe aright,
and it was through fierce poisonous pain of you heart and of your wounds, my beloved,
that thousands of the wise hurried in peace to their crown.
A Athair 'sa Íosa a dhíon led' bhás mé beo,
is do dhealbh mo ghnaoi gan chríochnú ceard id' chló,
nach danartha an gníomh, a Chríost, nár ghrása fós
ach gach uile ní ina mbíodh do ghráin don tsórt.
O Father and o Jesus who shielded me alive by your death,
and who formed me without pausing in your likeness,
how callous the deed, o Christ, that I still have not loved
but evry single thing that you find disgusting.
Nuair a chasfadsa arís le do ghuí-se a Bhláth na nOrd
Fé thearmann Chríost is díon a ghrásta 'om chomhad
Beidh garbhchnoic fhraoigh na líog do chrádh mé romham
In a machairí míne síoda is ina mbánta sróil.
When I turn again by your prayer, o Flower of the Orders,
under the protection of Christ and with the shelter of his grace to keep me
the harsh heathery hills that used to torment me on my way
will be like smooth silken plains and like meadows of satin.
Gile mo chroí do chroíse, a Shlánaitheoir,
agus ciste mo chroí do chroíse a fháil i m' chomhair
ós follas gur líon do chroí dom' ghrása, a stóir,
i gcochall mo chroí do chroíse fág i gcomhad.
The light of my heart your heart, o Saviour,
and the treasure of my heart your heart to have in my presence
since it is clear that your heart filled with my love, o beloved,
in the hollow of my heart your heart leave in store.
Ar fhuilingís trínne, a Rí ghil ard na gcumhacht,
ní thuigim im' smaointe a rííomh ná a thrácht i gcóir,
is gur le goradhghoin nimhe do chroí is do chneása, a stóir,
do bhrostaigh na mílte saoi go sámh i gcoróin.
About what you suffered through us, o bright high King of the powers,
my mind is unable to measure or to describe aright,
and it was through fierce poisonous pain of you heart and of your wounds, my beloved,
that thousands of the wise hurried in peace to their crown.
A Athair 'sa Íosa a dhíon led' bhás mé beo,
is do dhealbh mo ghnaoi gan chríochnú ceard id' chló,
nach danartha an gníomh, a Chríost, nár ghrása fós
ach gach uile ní ina mbíodh do ghráin don tsórt.
O Father and o Jesus who shielded me alive by your death,
and who formed me without pausing in your likeness,
how callous the deed, o Christ, that I still have not loved
but evry single thing that you find disgusting.
Nuair a chasfadsa arís le do ghuí-se a Bhláth na nOrd
Fé thearmann Chríost is díon a ghrásta 'om chomhad
Beidh garbhchnoic fhraoigh na líog do chrádh mé romham
In a machairí míne síoda is ina mbánta sróil.
When I turn again by your prayer, o Flower of the Orders,
under the protection of Christ and with the shelter of his grace to keep me
the harsh heathery hills that used to torment me on my way
will be like smooth silken plains and like meadows of satin.
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