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Poetry
Lusmore's Tale (part 1)
By MarjoryBanks
20 October 2006
From the Celtic fairytale.

The people call me Lusmore,
From the foxglove in my hat,
Pray, linger not at my door,
Come in, and swift at that.

What brings you here to Aherlow,
‘neath Galtee’s lofty peaks,
Where often rests the Winter snow,
Till after Holy Week?

Come rest ye by my fireside,
And warm your weary feet,
In spirit true of Christmastide,
Come share my ale and meat.

This tale I’ll tell is honest,
Fantastical forsooth,
A fairies curse upon us,
If every word’s not truth.

I used to weave with straw and rush,
Fine hats and baskets strong,
One day from Cahir market,
I homewards stumbled on.

Back then sore humphybackit,
I hirpled firth and feth,
My body’s weight was on my back,
I faltered, close to death.

Then by Knockgrafton’s ancient mote,
I crumpled to the ground,
‘twas then I heard the fairies’ notes,
A strange and lovely sound.               

Da Luan, Da Mort, Da Luan, Da Mort",
So went their strange refrain,
I lay bewitched beneath the mote,
Attending to the strain.

Then as if from nowhere,
These words came to my mind,
“Da Mort Augus Da Cadine”
I sang in perfect time.

This seemed to please the fairies,
For up my body whirled,
And by the Son of Mary,
Inside the mote was hurled.

“Lusmore, Lusmore!
We thee adore,
You’ll carry round,
That hump no more!
Look hither,
Tis lying on the floor!
Brave Lusmore, Good Lusmore!

I rose as light as summer air,
And floated from the mote,
No longer with my hump to bear,
As fleet as mountain goat.

I skipped the road next morning,
In less than no time flat,
But this tale carries warning,
And soon I’ll come to that.


Oli (20/10/06)

Reviews

Written by Witzl (1585 comments posted) 20th October 2006
I am intrigued by this. I don't have a clue what 'I hirpled firth and feth' means, but God, do I like it! And 'sore humphybackit' is a phrase I feel the richer for having been exposed to. 
 
One thing I find fascinating is how completely different cultures end up with very similar ballads and fairytales. I remember hearing the Yiddish tale of 'The Fiddler of Frankfurt au Mein' as a child, and the story is much the same: a man with kyphosis loses his hump when he plays a mysterious song on his fiddle for two charmed women.  
 
What is the Celtic fairytale this relates to?
Hi Witzl!
Written by MarjoryBanks (14 comments posted) 20th October 2006
The poem is based upon the Celtic fairytale "The Legend of Knockgrafton". To underline your point about parallels in other cultures, the reference notes in my book mention a Japanese(!) tale called Kubutori, which is identical in all respects, other than that, in the Japanese version the lump is on the man's face. 
 
The words you're struggling with: 
 
"sore humphybackit" = sorely hunch-backed 
 
"hirpled firth and feth" = limped back and forth 
 
I was a bit naughty because these are old Scots phrases, not Irish I think. Artistic license ;)

Written by Witzl (1585 comments posted) 21st October 2006
'Kobu' is 'lump' or 'hump' in Japanese, and 'tori' (from the verb 'toru') is 'remove,' so that makes sense. There is a character in Japanese folklore called 'Kobu-jisan' or 'Man with a lump (on his face)', who small children tend to run away from at festivals. (There is a 'Kobu-jisan' mask that is often used in festivals.) 
 
My mother, who was from Kentucky and of mainly Scottish and Irish ancestry, knew dozens of old ballads and fairy tales. I now live in Scotland and have encountered words here that I seldom -- or never -- heard outside my own family.  
 
'Hirpled' beats 'limped' any day, and I think that on some plane I really did understand 'firth and feth' to mean 'back and forth.' Part of the fun of the ballads is NOT knowing what some of the words mean, but that is probably not a shared sentiment.  
 
It is wonderful to see these old tales still being written, wonderful to hear them still recited. I mourn the fact that nowadays poetic references in speech are merely taken as signs that the speaker is being pretentious, and that no one wants to be entertained by hearing someone recite a long, juicy ballad or folktale.
Balladry...
Written by Talisker (1326 comments posted) 21st October 2006
Hi Madge, Witzl... 
 
A long time ago I learned Burns' Tam o' Shanter by rote -quite a long ballad. Fantastic to perform before a roaring peat fire of a winter's night! 
 
Oli.

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