THE BURIEAL BARNA Sometimes from across the waves Come memories of home once more, Of my youth and Claddagh days, By the bay of Galway’s shore. Whence a child and put to sleep, Dreaming of ships foreign bound, I heard that foghorns vigil keep, Through a window came its sound. At times I wept at its strident bray, Said mother, “It won’t harm yah, For ‘tis a song of Galway Bay, And called the Burieal Barna”. When mists and fog blocked the sky, As waves broke on the shore, I came to love that foghorns cry, And dreamt of it for evermore. I answered the call of the sea As my father had done as well, And eager for the world to see, To the Claddagh bid farewell. Out where great rollers break The worries of land behind, Our ships track in the wake – With the smell of saltsea wind. Around Cape Horn I often sailed In seas that pitched and tossed, Where was seen the mighty whale, And behind – the Albatross. I saw the sun rise and set On the worlds’ greatest oceans, And things too I’ll never forget – In the horror of wars commotions. Once fogbound at anchor lay, In the port of Yokohama, Again I wept for Galway Bay – ‘Twas the cry of a Burieal Barna. Now at night dreams come afar, So clear they leave no doubt, Warning soon I must cross the Bar, That my tide was ebbing out. No more I’ll hear that foghorns tone Swinging on the tides, Nor see again my Claddagh home, Or the City of the Tribes. And when I sail to seas on high, To meet my heavenly Karma, May I hear a last plaintive sigh – 6 The Song of the Burieal Barna.
Edwar d Coppinger
Colloquially known as the above, a foghorn in the Channel to Galway Docks. For Claddagh sailors the sea claimed.