AM §4 section 4 -

Comath mo chosc íarmothá sund. Preserve my advice, which follows here. 

In the Audacht Morainn (AM), the testament of a dying Druid to a young king, the fourth section, composed of a single line, exhorts the listener to "preserve" the Druid's advice. 

It's an easy line to skip over and in the scholarly work of Fergus Kelly it receives little attention. Yet, for me it brings up a rich context of poetry and value. 

We know that in the native Irish culture before writing, all knowledge was perpetuated in poetry or song. The work of the AM itself can be understood best by observing the patterns of rhyme and alliteration in the original language. For example, §4 itself breaks the pattern of linking lines through last-word/first-word alliteration, but foreshadows a series of first-word rhyming that occurs just a few lines later as "Comath", "Turcbath," "Ocbath," "Coincleth," "Fairtheth,"  "Tálgeth;" in English: preserve, raise, raise/exhalt, care for, help/support, soothe. It falls differently on the ears when it rhymes. 

To "preserve my advice" meant to memorize it, as spoken, in the correct pattern of stresses, in the music of poetry. The messenger is being asked to memorize an important poem, to very nearly sing this composition and then to teach this song of counsel to the new ruler. 

Culturally, we tend to skip over the poetry. We read for the "meaning" rather than the sound. Sometimes we discipline ourselves with literature classes, book clubs, or poetry slams just to catch a taste of that world of words, spoken to each other, preserved in the sound of the human voice, lingering in the air between and around us for a moment then disappearing as lives disappear in the march of time. 

The phrase, in English, "Preserve my advice which follows here" reads as the most boring bit of the whole text! But if we read it differently, with the context of its time, we might hear, "Carry my song with you" as the words of a dying mentor. 

Think of the life of a song, not the life of notes on paper, but the life of a sound. We love to hear music. We love live music and cherish memories of performances. Especially we love a memory that is filled with sensual impact, like an open air concert on a summer night, in the company of a beloved companion. The sound is so fragile, it is nearly illusory. It expands, reaches out, surrounds us, like a shimmer, or a blossom, then fades to invisibility. It some how combines the other experiences like the sight of bright color with the transient nature of time itself. It is both vivid and ephemeral. 

"Carry my song with you." 

The Druid hoped to impart the most precious treasures of his wisdom at the end of his life, to the beginning of the reign of a vigorous, young ruler. He invited his student, his messenger, to sing with him his most precious and final song. 

It's so important to sing together, to do the things that cannot be captured in leather-bound books, but live as surely as memory and vibration live. We need to have the experiences that are not cataloged, and monetized. It's good to feel words in our mouths, rather than imagine them in our minds. It’s good to listen to the sounds we create together, and listen as they fade in the drifting passage of time.

Life is short. Engage in the ephemeral. 

Peace of the mountains to you, 

Paulie Rainbow