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<title>An Bonnan Bui - Restaurant, Rathmullan, County Donegal - wine menu</title>
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        <span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: Lucida Handwriting; text-decoration: none; font-weight: 700" lang="EN-GB">
        The Yellow Bittern</span>
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Bittern, I’m sorry to see you stretched
with you bones decayed and eaten away.<br>
not want of food but need of a drink
has brought you so to lie face up.<br>
I feel it worse than the ruin of Troy
to see you stretched on the naked stones,<br>
who caused no hurt nor harm in the world,
as happy with boghole water as wine.<p>

It hurts, fair bittern, a thousand fold
your fallen head on the open road,<br>
whose honk I heard in the early mornings
out on the mud as you took your drink.<br>
Everyone tells your brother Cathal
that’s certainly how I’m going to die.<br>
Not so. Behold this handsome bird
lately dead for want of a drink.<p>

Sorrow, young bittern, a thousand fold
to see you before me on the clumps, <br>
and the big rats travelling towards your wake,
taking part in the fun and games.<br>
If only you sent me word in time
that you were in trouble and needed a drink<br>
I’d have dealt a blow at Vesay’s lake
would have wetted your mouth and inwards too.<p>

Your other birds I don’t lament,
blackbird, thrush or the grey crane,<br>
but my yellow bittern full of heart
so like myself in face and hue.<br>
He was forever taking a drink
and they say I’m the same from time to time<br>
but I’ll leave undrunk no drop I find
for fear I’d catch my death of thirst.<p>

My darling said give up the drink
or I’ve only a little while to live<br>
but I told her that she told a lie,
The self same drink prolongs my life.<br>
Have ye not seen this smooth – necked bird
that died of thirst a while ago?<br>
Wet your lips, my neighbour dear.
There won’t be a drop when you’re dead and gone.<p>

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<div align="center"><font face="Gill Sans MT" size=2>Further information telephone: (00353) 074 9158453
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