An Ráth — The Fairy Fort

The ringfort on the hill that nobody in the family will touch.

Tá ráth ar an gcnoc taobh thiar den teach.
There is a ringfort on the hill behind the house.

Fáinne crann atá ann, agus féar ard istigh.
It’s a ring of trees, with tall grass inside.

Ní chuireann m’athair barr ann riamh.
My father never plants a crop in it.

Ní ghearrann sé na crainn ach oiread.
He doesn’t cut the trees either.

“Fág fúthu é,” a deir sé.
“Leave it to them,” he says.

Nuair a bhí mé óg, cheap mé go raibh sé seafóideach.
When I was young, I thought it was silly.

Chuaigh mé suas ann oíche amháin le mo chairde.
I went up there one night with my friends.

Bhí an oíche ciúin, gan aon ghaoth.
The night was quiet, without any wind.

Ach bhí na crainn ag corraí.
But the trees were stirring.

Ritheamar síos an cnoc gan stopadh.
We ran down the hill without stopping.

Níor inis mé riamh do m’athair é.
I never told my father about it.

Ach ní théim suas ann anois.
But I don’t go up there now.

A note on this one

There are tens of thousands of ringforts still standing in Ireland, and they survive largely because farmers wouldn’t clear them. Whatever people privately believed, the fields were ploughed around them for a thousand years.