Dullahan

An gcloiseann tú an cleatar toll;

Na crúba ar na gcloich?

Tá do chríóch ar mhuin each

Gan crúalacht nó croch.

Bí séímh is dreap ar diallait.

Nó ‘steach sa cóiste dubh

Déanfar streachailt ar fad amú,

Ná teigh siar ar do lobh.

Luíonn grá le muintir fos,

Is luíonn tú faoin bhfód.

Bain taitneamh as an scíth romhat:

Iomláine Brionglóide.

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A Little Bit about the Poem

This poem is one of a pair of efforts I made to compose a poem entirely in Irish. When it came time to address the afterlife in the fantasy setting I am working on, I decided banshees and dullahans would be my psychopomps. Shortly after, I felt that I should compose songs for the banshees to keen that corresponded to my own lore. This is one such song someone might hear before their death in the world of Rivaazlin. I'm sure it's riddled with mistakes that any reading Gaeilgeoir is currently rolling their eyes at. I can only apologize and hope you have time to correct me in the comments!

Translation

Do you hear the dull clatter;

The hooves on the stones?

Your end is on horseback

Without cruelty or gallows.

Be gentle and climb on a saddle,

Or into the black carriage.

All struggle will be in vain,

Don’t dwell upon your rot.

Love lies with family still,

And you lie ‘neath the sod.

Enjoy the rest ahead of you:

An entirety of Dream.