For Yer Women, the Women
By Turlough
- 1796 reads
All the year they scrub the homes
From Skibbereen to Portglenone.
They work their fingers to the bone,
Afraid to pause to moan or groan.
They milk the cows and plough the earth,
Make the butter, cut the turf,
Without complaint of a greater dearth
Of respite each time they give birth.
The food’s prepared while you've been out
Having the craic, drinking the stout
And winking at girls. They've no doubt
Ye're a dirty lazy drunken lout.
It's Women's Christmas and the day
That things are done a different way.
Yer man the Pope would even say
It's time the girls went out to play.
So now’s the time, the sixth of Jan
To get off your arse if you're a man
And rattle out the pots and pans
For the women have their own wee plan.
You can’t argue. You’ve no excuse.
(Tradition says you roast a goose)
So just for once you must deduce
It’s her time to be out on the loose.
You’ve got no choice so do your best.
It’s just one day so don’t protest.
With a hundred more she should be blessed.
Nollaig na mBan … Give her a rest!
Image:
Created by me.
A jar o’ stout for Nollaig na mBan.
Explanatory note:
In Ireland, the sixth of January is called Nollaig na mBan (pronounced Null-egg na mawn and meaning Women's Christmas). The tradition, still strong in Cork and Kerry, is so called because Irish men take on household duties for the day. Goose was the traditional meat served on Women's Christmas. Some women hold parties or go out to celebrate the day with their friends, sisters, mothers and aunts. As a result, groups of women and girls are common in bars and restaurants on this night. I, in the true spirit of the tradition, was working my fingers to the bone all day even though I’m three thousand kilometres away from Ireland.
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Comments
Fascinating footnote.
Fascinating footnote. Tradition I wasn't aware of. Your poem captures the essence of the occasion so well. Nicely done, sir. Paul
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I'd never heard of that! I
I'd never heard of that! I presume the men would have been back to work by then. Wonder whether there could have been more sharing over the holiday period, but you know it is very difficult to share cooking responsibilies isn't it! My husband got on with a lot of cooking when I had my operation recently, but when I started trying to get involved again, he found suggestions hard to cope with, and so either I do it, or he, but with the understanding we'll call the other when needed!
You have a way with rolling rhythm and rhyme, song-like! Rhiannon
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I hadn't heard of this,
I hadn't heard of this, either, what a brilliant thing :0) Wonderful rhythm, as Rhiannon says
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I've never heard of this
I've never heard of this tradition Turlough. I thought your poem did justice to the day, with good rhythm and rhyme.
Jenny.
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Fascinating day, one I also
Fascinating day, one I also never knew existed! I like your line "And winking at girls. They've no doubt / Ye're a dirty lazy drunken lout."
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Great tradition.
Great tradition!
So the day after twelth night is Women's Christmas, Nollaig na mBan - thanks for sharing this.
Nothing like this that I know of in Devon or Somerset but tonight I shall be at St Sidwells in Exeter as a group of us are wassailing the apple trees. In the South West of England a lot of us like cider,
'Old apple tree we'll Wassail thee and hoping thou wilt bear
The Lord does know where we shall be to be merry another year
To blow well and to bear well and so merry let us be
Let ev'ry one drink up their cup and a health to the old apple tree'
Collected from William Crockford, Bratten Exmoor
by Cecil Sharp September 1906
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