Text Box: An Bonnan Bui A poem by Cathal Bui Mac Giolla Ghunna Cathal Bui wrote the words of this poem, now set to music, late in the 17th century. Thus the mystery of the naming of the great little restaurant near the ferry dock in Rathmullan is solved. Listening to the soft melodious words set to music would bring one not versed in Gaelic to presume this a love song, but this is definitely not the case. Cathal wrote about the long beaked “Yellow Bittern” pictured above upon the occasion of finding one dead in the road. Presuming the bird to have died from thirst he penned the following words. As you will see this poem was destined to become an all time favorite and a rallying cry of thirst quenching “pubbers” throughout all of Ireland. Bittern, I’m sorry to see you stretched with your bones decayed and eaten away. Not want of food but need of a drink has brought you so to lie face up. I feel it worse than the ruin of Troy to see you stretched on the naked stones, who caused no hurt nor harm to the world, as happy with boghole water as wine. It hurts fair bittern, a thousandfold - your fallen head on the open road, whose honk I heard in the early mornings out on the mud as you took your drink. Everyone tells your brother Cathal that’s certainly not how I’m going to die. Not so. Behold this handsome bird so lately dead for want of a drop. Sorrow young bittern, a thousandfold to see you before me among the clumps and the big rats traveling toward your wake taking part in the fun and games. If only you’d sent me word in time that you were in trouble and needed a drink

         I’d have dealt a blow at Vesey’s lake

         would have wetted your mouth and your innards too.

 

         Your other birds I don’t lament,

          blackbird, thrush, or the grey crane.

          but my yellow bittern full of heart

          so like myself in face and hue.

          He was forever taking a drink

          and they say I’m the same from time to time

          - but I’ll leave undrunk no drop I find

          for fear I’d catch my death of thirst.

 

          My darling said give up the drink

          or I’ve only a little while to live

          but I told her that she told a lie,

          the selfsame drink prolongs my life.

          Have ye not seen the smooth-necked bird

          that died of thirst a while ago?

          So wet your lips, my neighbors dear,

          There won’t be a drop when your dead and gone.