> Anne Briggs > Songs > The Bonambuie

An Bonnán Buí / The Bonambuie / The Yellow Bittern

[ Roud 5332 , 9734 ; Henry H830 ; Ballad Index HHH830 ; Cathal Buí Mac Giolla Ghunna]

Gale Huntington: Sam Henry’s Songs of the People

An Bonnán Buí (The Yellow Bittern) is a classic poem in Irish by the poet Cathal Buí Mac Giolla Ghunna (c. 1680-1756). The poem is in the form of a lament for a bittern that died of thirst, but is also a tongue in cheek defence by the poet of his own drinking habit. It has been translated into English by, among others, James Stephens, Thomas MacDonagh, Thomas Kinsella, and Seamus Heaney. (Wikipedia)

Seán Mac Donnchadha (John McDonagh) of Connemara, Co. Glaway sang An Bhuinneán Bhuí Bhocht (The Yellow Bittern) to Bill Leader in 1967. This recording was included in 1971 on the Topic anthology More Grand Airs From Connemara. Sean O’Boyle noted:

This is a County Cavan song that has swept the country. It was composed by Cathal Buí Mac Giolla Ghunna (Yellow Charlie Gunn) in the 18th century. Cathal Buí was a great philanderer and a heavy drinker. One day during a prolonged frost he came upon the dead body of a yellow bittern lying by the shore of Loch MacNean (The Lake of the Son of the Bird). He immediately told himself that the bird had died from thirst, and drew a parallel between himself and it—both were yellow and both fond of a drink. Here is how Thomas MacDonagh translated two of the verses:

The yellow bittern that never broke out
In a drinking bout, might as well have drunk;
His bones are thrown on a naked stone
Where he lived alone like a hermit monk.
O I yellow bittern I pity your lot.
Though they say that a sot like myself is curst –
I was sober a while, but I’ll drink and be wise
For fear I should die in the end of thirst.

My darling asked me to drink no more
Or my life would be o’er in a little short while;
But I told her ’tis drink gives me health and strength
And will lengthen my road by many a mile.
You see how the bird of the long smooth neck
Could get his death from thirst at last –
Come, son of my soul, and drain your cup.
You’ll get no sup when your life is past.

This song is printed in Donal O’Sullivan’s Songs of the Irish (Dublin, 1960), pp. 124-5.

Tim Lyons sang An Bunan Buide (The Yellow Bittern) in 1972 on his Trailer album The Green Linnet. Tony Foxworthy noted:

Translated from the Irish by Thomas MacDonagh, the words relate the discovery by a heavy drinker of the dead body of a bittern by the frozen margin of a lake. Reflecting on the fact that the bird had apparently died of thirst, he consoles himself with the knowledge that at least he won’t suffer the same fate himself. The songs can sometimes be found printed in Irish school books as a poem.

Anne Briggs recorded The Bonambuie in 1973 for her album Sing a Song for You. Sadly the album remained unpublished until 1996 when it finally appeared on CD. Anne Briggs noted:

The Bonambuie is Gaelic for the Yellow Bittern—a bird once common in Irish bogs, now very rare. The story is of an Irish poet, Thomas MacDonagh, who after an evening in the pub would make his way home over the bog and the booming lament of the bittern across the night would accompany him. One night, deep in the winter, it was silent and the poet found the bird dead—frozen in the ice. In his sad contemplation of the bird’s death, the poet decided that the bird had died of thirst—unable to get a drink—and there was a lesson there!

Paddy Tunney sang An Bunnan Bwee (The Yellow Bittern) in 1982 on his Green Linnet album The Stone Fiddle. He noted:

An Bunnan Bwee (The Yellow Bittern) is my translation into English of one of the most famous Gaelic songs by the 18th Century Fermanagh poet and pedlar Cathal Bwee Mac Giolla Gunna. It seems Cathal found a yellow bittern frozen to death on the ice-covered shore of Lough MacNean in that county. He concluded it had died of thirst and, a noted tippler himself, composed this song of self-mockery in which he compares the life style of tho bittern to his own. It is a song beloved in every part of Ireland where Gaelic is spoken and I have seen old men in Connemara shed tears when listening to the singing of it by the high king of sean-nos (traditional) singers, the great Joe Heaney.

In my translation I tried to retain the vowel stresses and internal assonance of tho original Gaelic. This enables one to sing it naturally. Thomas McDonagh. one of the 1916 martyrs, did a more literary translation of the song but it is difficult to sing. Along with being a poet, a pedlar and a tippler, Cathal Bwee was a mighty man with the fair sex. He married a goodly number and was reputed to have seduced a great many more. We Irish love a vagabond.

Al O’Donnell sang An Bunnan Buidhe (The Yellow Bittern) in 1987 on his Transatlantic The Leader Tradition album Al O’Donnell 2. A live recording from Cobblestone was included on the second/live CD of his 2008 album Ramble Away. Tom Munnelly noted:

Cathal Buidhe mac Chiolla Ghunna (Fair haired Charles Gunn or Gilgunn) wrote this song (in Irish) in the early part of the 18th century. He is still remembered in the lore of the people of Ulster as a rake who lived wild and loose all his days.

Tradition has it that one winter during a period when he was attempting to quit drinking he stumbled across the body of a bunnán buidhe (yellow bittern) which had died of thirst beside Lough MacNean which was completely frozen over. Even though his true love might wish him to drink no more Cathal Buidhe is resolved not to share the fate of the bittern:

I was sober a while, but I’ll drink and be wise
For I fear I may die in the end of thirst.

It is a pleasure to record that Cathal Buidhe died at a ripe old age, about 1756. This translation is by Thomas McDonagh.

Alistair Hulett sang An Bunan Buidhe (The Yellow Bittern) on his 1996 album with Dave Swarbrick, Saturday Johnny & Jimmy the Rat. He noted:

This song was written originally in Irish, by the eighteenth century poet, Cathal Buidhe mac chiolla Gunna, or Yellow-Haired Charles Gunn. After making a promise to his wife to give up the drink, a promise he was unable to keep, Cathal Buidhe happened upon a yellow bittern that had died of thirst by the shores of a frozen lake, Lough MacNean, the Lake of the Son of the Bird. This discovery convinced the poet to continue his drunkenness and thus avoid the fate of the bunan buidhe. Contrary to expectations, Cathal Buithe lived to a ripe old age and died peacefully in 1842.

Sean Doyle sang The Yellow Bittern in 2004 on his Compass album The Light and the Half-Light. He noted:

This is a translation of the famous An Bunnán Buí by Cathal Buí Mac Giolla Gunna. The two latter verses are from the Thomas McDonagh translation but the first verse is a compilation from a number of sources.

Jackie Oates sang The Yellow Bittern in 2015 on her ECC album The Spyglass & the Herringbone. She noted:

Based on the poem in Irish by the poet Cathal Buí Mac Giolla Ghunna and translated into English by Thomas MacDonagh. In the poem, the protagonist is saddened to discover a yellow bittern stretched out on a rock having died of thirst. He sees the fate of the bird as a signal that he should carry on enjoying his life whilst he can.

Roisín White sang An Bonnán Buí (The Yellow Bittern) in 2009 on her Veteran album With Thanks - Le Buíochas. She noted:

A very popular song in many areas of Ireland that is often sung in both Irish and English. It was written by Cathal Buí Mac Giolla Gunna (Yellow-haired Charles Gunn), an Ulster poet from Co. Cavan who died in 1756. It seems that he went out walking one wintry day near his home by the shores of Lough Mac Nean, in the north part of Cavan bordering with Leitrim and Fermanagh. He came upon a yellow bittern, lying frozen on the icy lake, which he suspected had died because it was unable to drink from the iced-over water. This concurred with one of his own great fears, which would be the absence of a convivial drink, and he resolved he would never give up drink himself!

Seamus Ennis recorded the song for the BBC in 1960 from Bobbie Clancy at Carrick-on-Suir, Co. Tipperary. Other singers that can be heard on CD include: Pádraigin Ní Uallacháin (CEFCD183 An Dealg Oir /The Golden Thorn), Seán MacDonnchadha (CDORBD090 Hurry the Jug), Róise Mhic Grianna (RTECD178 Róise na nAmhrán, Songs of a Donegal Woman) and Joe Heaney (TSCD518D The Road From Connemara).

Remorae learned An Bonnán Buí (The Yellow Bittern) from Anne Brigg’s version and sang it in 2021 on their Folkatron Sessions album Home No More.

Lyrics

Anne Briggs sings The Bonambuie

Oh the bonambuie that ne’er broke out
On a drinking bout he might as well have drunk;
For his bones lie thrown on a naked stone
Where he lived all alone like a hermit monk.
Oh the bonambuie I pity your lot,
Though they say that a sot like myself is cursed.
I was sober a while, but I will drink and be wise,
For I fear I may die in the end of thirst.

It’s not for the kind word that I would mourn,
The blackbird, the corncrake or the crane,
But the bonambuie that is shy and apart
And drinks from the marsh on the lone bog trail.
If I had known you were near your death
While my breath held out I’d have run to you,
’Til the splash in the Lake of the Son of the Bird,
Your soul would have brought to life again.

And my true love told me to drink no more
Or my life would be over in a little while;
It’s the taste of the whiskey it gives me health and strength
And will lengthen my road by many’s a mile.
You can see how the bird of the long smooth neck,
He gets his death from the thirst at last.
So come, son of my soul, and fill up your glass,
For you’ll get no more sup when this life has passed.

Alistair Hulett sings An Bunan Buidhe (The Yellow Bittern)

O an bunan buidhe that ne’er broke out
On a drinking bout might have well have seen
His bones lying strewn on a naked stone
Where he lived all alone like the hermit monk.
O an bunan buidhe, I pity your lot
Though they say that a sot like myself is cursed
I was sober a while but I will drink and be wise
For I fear I may die in the end of thirst.

It’s not for the common bird that I mourn
For the blackbird, the corncrake or the crane
But the bunan buidhe that is shy and apart
And drinks from the marsh where the lone bog drains
If I’d have known you were near your death
While my breath held out I’d have run to you
Til a splash in the Lake of the Son of the Bird
Your soul would have stirred back to life anew.

My darling told me to drink no more
Or my life would be over in a little while
But it’s the taste of the whisky that gives me health and strength
And will lengthen my road by many a mile.
You can see how the bird of the long, smooth neck
He might catch his death from the thirst at last
So come song of my soul and fill your glass
For you’ll get no more sup when this life is past.

On a wintering island I constant times recall
A bittern who calls from a wineless place
And tells me that hither he cannot come
Til the summer is here and the sunny day
When he crosses the stream there and wings over the sea
Then the thought comes to me he may fail in his flight
Now the milk and the ale they are drunk every drop
And a dram it won’t stop our thirst this night.

Sean Doyle sings The Yellow Bittern

Oh my bunnan bui I am in grief for your fate
With your bones stretched out after all your fun;
Not want of food but the drink being scarce
Has caused you to be lying there undone.
It grieves me more than the sack of Troy
That here you lie on uncaring stones,
And Devil the harm or hurt you’ve done
And you would shrink from wine for a brackish pool.

And it’s not for the common bird that I mourn
For the blackbird, the corncrake or the crane,
But for the yellow bittern who is shy and apart
And who drinks from the marsh in the long bog drain.
Had I but known you were near your death
While my breath held out I’d have run to you,
‘Til a splash from the lake of Lough MacNean
Your soul would have stirred to life in you.

And my darling told me to drink no more
Or my life would be over in a very short while;
But it’s the taste of the whiskey gives me life and strength
And will shorten the road by many’s the mile.
You can see how the bird of the long smooth neck
Could get its death from the thirst at last.
So come son of my soul and fill up your cup,
For you’ll get’naer a sup when your life is passed.