Colm MacCárthaigh: Vocal and Guitar,  Colleen Raney: Backing Vocals, Hanz Araki: Shakuhachi, Ryan Davidson: Double Bass.

Lyrics:

Is ar Casadh na Céide, aniar ó Ghleannurla
amach ó Dún Bhriste, ‘s na faraighe bhán
Is ar Casadh na Céide, taobh le cheann tíre
Alt ar na cuain, 's amharc sámh

Is ar Cadadh na Céide, an bóthar cuartha
Tuatha fonn, lámh sa snàmh
Is ar Casadh na Céide, deireadh na tíre
Cailte sa ghaoth, toilte sa sámh

Is ó h-árd go ísil, tá ar muíntir timpeall
faoi an mhóna, cloch ‘s a mhall
Is ó īsil go h-árd, tá stair in ár lár,
Seo liom cánadh, faoi na h-alta Maigh-eo

Is ar Casadh na Céide, aniar ó Ghleannurla
amach ó Dún Bhriste, ‘s na faraighe bhán
Is ar Casadh na Céide, an bóthar curtha,
Alt ar na chuan, 's amharc sámh

Is ó h-árd go ísil, tá ar muíntir timpeall
faoi an mhóna, cloch ‘s a mhall
Is ó īsil go h-árd, tá stair in ár lár,
Seo liom cánadh, faoi na h-alta Maigh-eo

Is ar Casadh na Céide, aniar ó Ghleannurla
amach ó Dún Bhriste, ‘s na faraighe bhán
Is ar Casadh na Céide, deireadh na tíre
Cailte sa ghaoth, toilte sa sám

English Translation:

On Céide drive, western winds from Glenurla
out from Downpatrick to the foaming seas
to where Céide turns, beside the headlands,
Joints crest bays, spectacles at peace

On a winding road, to the Céide fields
Forefolk’s tuneturf*, a hand cast in the surf,
by Céide’s bend, at earth's end
awash with calm, and lost to the wind

From high to low, our people were here
in the bogs, in the stones, in the walls,
from low to high, we're in history’s midst,
sing with me now, of the cliffs of Mayo

On Céide drive, western winds from Glenurla
out from Downpatrick to the foaming seas
On a winding road, to where Céide turns,
A calm view harbors an altar

From high to low, our people were here
in the bogs, in the stones, in the walls,
from low to high, we're in history’s midst,
sing with me now, of the cliffs of Mayo

On Céide drive, western winds from Glenurla
out from Downpatrick to the foaming seas
by Céide’s bend, at earth's end
awash with calm, and lost to the wind

*”Tuatha Fonn” is hard to translate concisely. “Tuatha” means “tribe”, “warriors”, “founders” and “demigods” all at the same time. “Fonn” means “land” or “territory” but also “tune”, “music”, and “wish”.


Notes about Casadh na Céide

When my brother and I were growing up, our parents would take us to Ballycastle in Co. Mayo a few times a year. Our friends have a cottage there, in Glenurla, a few miles west of the village. We’d spend a few weeks in the summer going to different beaches and harbors, or walking the slow seaside hills. If we went in the winter we’d sometimes hunker down against raging Atlantic storms that in 2020 would have a name like “Extra tropical storm Ophelia”, a few days notice, and frantic anticipation, but back then barely had a warning. It came and gave you a good battering and in the morning you took a look to see how much of the roof was gone. Whatever the time of year, we’d spend evenings in the tiny town pubs that also serve as groceries, and we’d see stars that you could never make out from Dublin.

Mayo is the third largest county in Ireland, and has the second smallest population density, but the people are in the big towns like Ballina, Castlebar, and Westport. Out in the country, it’s Ireland’s Montana and Big Sur rolled into one. The Cliffs of Moher in Clare may be well-visited and world-famous (they even stood in for the Cliffs of Insanity in the Princess Bride), but for my money the cliffs along the northwest coast of Mayo are the most spectacular in Ireland. In Mayo the cliffs are rugged and stratified, with thousands of years of history and geology laminated for display. The sea constantly batters casting spray and carving blow-holes. Out by Ballycastle you can see all of this at Downpatrick, where Dún Briste sticks out from the land like a broken nail from of the finger of headland that once stretched even further into the sea.

If you go the other direction from Ballycastle, towards Belderg, you’ll find bigger cliffs where the winding road turns and a modern glass pyramid rises from the land. There, at the Céide fields interpretive center you can take indoor or outdoor tours and learn about the 5,500 year old remains of neolithic farms that cover the land. These farms were made by Ireland’s earliest farmers, who came in and cleared the native forests to work the land. Without trees to hold the soil, bog took over in the harsh damp Mayo climate, and while it drove those farmers from the land, it left preserved a snapshot of ancient life. Like a very very, very, slow version of Pompeii, which is about the right speed of things in the west of Ireland.

Heaney wrote about Céide, his collection North includes a poem, ‘Belderg’, that he left as a thank you note on the door of a generous host. I’ll include just a little:

When he stripped off blanket bog
The soft-piled centuries
Fell open like a glib;
There were the first plough-marks,

The stone-age fields, the tomb
Corbelled, turfed and chambered,
Floored with dry turf-coomb.
A landscape fossilized,
Its stone wall patternings
Repeated before our eyes
In the stone walls of Mayo.

You’ve probably noticed that the song is not in English. My brother and I grew up speaking Irish. We went to Irish speaking schools in Dublin, and my mother worked at one too for a long time. There’s not much to this song, it’s barely a postcard, but Irish lends itself to double-meanings and repetition and it felt right for a song about Céide, which is just on the edge of the Erris Gaeltacht. If you ever get the chance to visit Mayo, please take it.

I’m lucky to be joined by Colleen, Hanz, and Ryan on this song. Colleen and Hanz winter in the Dingle Gaeltacht themselves every year (when we don’t have a global pandemic), and they well know how to hunker down against the now-named storms. They have a deep sense of the soul and sound of the land and language of Ireland’s west. Hanz is playing Shakuhachi here, an ancient Japanese end-blown flute which he happens to master. Without getting into offensive reductive patter about foreign mysticism, it has the pure sound of a perfect undulating note, and a breathy rasp like the sea wind catching your ear. It’s perfect for this song.