[ 102 ]Do ḃí mórán daoine uair ag tógaint[1] ṁúir i mBréantráiġ le hais na n-Aoraiḋe. Do ḃí ana-ṫarrac (= an-tarrung) ag an muir ⁊ ana-ċuid ṁúir ar ḃarra-taoide,[2] aċt níor leóṁṫa[3] d’aon-neaċ teaċt i n-a ġar ná i n-a ġaor. Do ḃí na daoine go léir ar na splínceaċaiḃ[4] ag faire ar a ṫeaċt isteaċ; aċt ḋá ḟoídniġe[5] a ḃfaireaċas ⁊ a a ḃfaireaċán, ’seaḋ is móide d’ḟan an múr mar a ḃí aige,[6] ag luasgaḋ le cois calaiḋ, anois ag breiṫ suas[7] ar an áit mar a raiḃ na daoine ag suiḋe nó ag seasaṁ; an nóimiot i n-a ḋiaiḋ, ṫaġaḋ tonn tois[8] cnoic—ag treaḃaḋ ⁊ ag treun-ġluasaċt, ag briseaḋ ar na builgiḃ, ag baint fuama ⁊ foṫraim as cloiċ ⁊ carraig, nó ag spreuċaḋ[9] ⁊ ag spriúċaḋ, ag cur cuḃair suas ar ḃán ġlas. |
[ 103 ]A great many people were once taking sea-weed in Briantraigh, near Eyries. There was a great draw by the sea, and a great lot of sea-weed on the surface of the tide, but no one dared to come near it. All the people were on the splinceachs watching to have it come in, but the more patient their watching and waiting, the more the sea-weed remained as it was, rocking near the shore, now all but reaching the place (or to be more literal bearing up on the place) where the people were sitting or standing, the moment after, a wave—the size of a hill—used to come, ploughing and strong-moving, breaking on the reefs, taking sound and clamour out of stone and crag, or breaking into spray and dashing, putting white foam upon the green sward. |
[ 102 ]“Ní ḟanfad-sa annso a ṫuilleaḋ,” arsa Doṁnall O’Ceallaiġ, “dá raġaḋ an saoġal i dtóin na fuiseoige.[10] Atáim annso ó leaiṫ na hoiḋċe aréir ⁊ gan pioc dá ḃarr[11] agam, ⁊ an diaḃal díom d’ḟanfaiḋ an oiread eile[12] im’ amadán ⁊ mo ḃolg boċt buailte ar ċnáṁ mo ḋroma—cad dob’ áil liḃ annso?”[13] ars’ eisean leis an gcuid eile ḃí i n-a ḟoċair. |
[ 103 ]“I won’t stay any longer here,” says Donal O’Kelly, “let matters come to whatever pass they will. I am here since the middle of last night, without having a jot gained by it, and the devil of me, if I stay as long again, like a fool, and my poor stomach struck on my backbone. What do you want here?” says he to the others who were in his company. |
[ 102 ]“Is gearr go dtiocfaiḋ an múr isteaċ a ḃuaċaill,” arsa Piaras Paor. “Beiḋ sé go léir againne ⁊ tusa i n-a iongnais, ag troid le hiongnaiḃ do ċos nó (= ó) nár ḟanais—’sé sin má taoi ar tí imṫeaċt ort a ḃaile.” |
[ 103 ]“The sea-weed will shortly come in, boy,” says Pierce Power;” we will have all of it, and you without it, fighting with the nails of your feet, since you didn’t stay, that is if you are on the point of going away home.” |
[ 103 ]“May the Big Man take the sea-weed,” says Teig Beg, “for it is we are eaten up by torture and torment from being waiting here in cold and weary pain.” | |
[ 102 ]“Atá an ġaoṫ ag aṫruġaḋ ⁊ an ṁuir ag ciuiniuġaḋ,” arsa Pádraig O’Loingsiġ. |
[ 103 ]“The wind is changing and the sea growing calm,” says Patrick O’Lynch. |
[ 103 ]“What is that thou sayest?” says Donal O’Kelly, putting an ear on himself (= all ears). | |
[ 103 ]“I say,” says the other man, “that the wind is changing.” | |
[ 103 ]“Is miṫid di soin,” arsa Doṁnall, “mara ḃfuil fonn uirri luiġe ċun guir ar fad ’san áird i n-a ḃfuil sí le breis ⁊ coigṫiḋeas—Is dóiġ liom,” ars’ eisean arís, ṫar éis stad tamall ⁊ feuċaint i n’(-a) ṫimċeall, “go ḃfanfad seal eile, dá dtuiteaḋ an bolg asam le hocras ⁊ le híotain, ⁊ is é mo ṫuairim naċ fada eile uaḋ anois ⁊ cá misde ḋó—cad eile atá le deunaṁ aige?” |
[ 103 ]“It is time for it,” says Donal, “unless it intends to lie to hatching altogether in the point in which it is for a fortnight and more. I believe,” says he again, after stopping for a while and looking around him, “that I will stay for another spell, even if the stomach fall out of me with hunger and thirst, and it is my opinion that it is not far rom it now, and what harm is it for it—what else has it to do?” |
[ 103 ]Everyone burst out laughing on their hearing this. | |
[ 103 ]“Whisper, Dermot,” says he to Dermot MacAuliffe, catching him by the front of the shirt and bringing him aside with him—
| |
[ 104 ]“What business have you for me?” says Dermot. | |
[ 104 ]“No business at all,” says he, “but would you have half-a-whiff in the bottom of your pipe?—I am starved— going out of my skin, man! for want of one whiff while God has given me day (= the live-long day).” | |
Nótaiḋe.
- ↑ Tógaint = tógḃáil
- ↑ Barra taoide = barr-taoide, uaċtar taoide, uaċtar na mara.
- ↑ níor leóṁta d’aonneaċ = níor láṁṫa d’aonneaċ [láṁaim = leigim].
- ↑ splínc = carraig ġéar ġarḃ.
- ↑ foíġne nó foidne = foiġid = fad-ḟualaing.
- ↑ mar a ḃí aige = ’san móḋ i n-a raiḃ sé; mar a raiḃ aige = san áit i n-a raiḃ sé.
- ↑ ag breiṫ suas = beag naċ ag roċtain.
- ↑ tois = toirt = méid.
- ↑ spreuċaḋ, ag léim mar ḃeiḋeaḋ mion-splannaċa as iarann dearg ’nauir buailfiḋe leis an órd ar an inneoin é; spriúċaḋ, caiṫeaṁ, caiṫeaṁ capaill nó múla.
- ↑ dá raġaḋ an saoġal i dtóin na fuiseoige: is ait ⁊ is ainċneasta an ráḋ é seo, ⁊ ní mó ná maiṫ do ṫuiġim cionnus do ṫáinig se ċun na céille atá air láiṫreaċ do ḃeiṫ air. Is ionann é ⁊ cibé niḋ do ṫiocfaiḋ as dam; cibé rud—maiṫ no olc, ⁊ is cuma liom cia ’ca—is tagṫa as dam.
- ↑ pioc dá ḃárr = aonniḋ dá ṡoċar.
- ↑ an oiread eile = an ċoṁḟaid ċéadna.
- ↑ Cad dob’ áil liḃ annso? = Cad is gnó abaiġ ’san áit seo?
- ↑ an Fear Mór = an diaḃal.
- ↑ Feannaid = peandáit .i. pianáit.
- ↑ deiri = ’deirir’ i leaḃraiḃ.
- ↑ ionntráil = aṫruġaḋ.
- ↑ do sceart = d’éiġ.
- ↑ ar fód faoi leiṫ = i leaṫ-taoiḃ.
- ↑ Cad is gnó agat díom? = Cad é an gnó atá agat díom? = Cad do b’áil leat díom? (Feic N. 13).
- ↑ seiṫte no seiġte = taḃarṫa, tnáiṫte [jaded (?)].
- ↑ de ċeal = d’easbaiḋ.
- ↑ seaċ = gal.
- ↑ fad ṫug Dia lá ḋam = feaḋ an lae = do riṫ an lae uile. Is gointe ⁊ is géire i ḃfad ’s i ḃfad an céad ráḋ ná ceaċtar do’n ḃeirt eile.