M. Tá, ball greannṁar. Gleann fada, uaigneaċ fiaḋain, cnuic ṁóra, árda ar gaċ taoḃ ḋe, sroṫán fíor-uisge ag riṫ tré n-a lár, biolar ag fás ar ḃruaċ an tsroṫáin sin, agus liaċt daoine buile bailiġṫe ar gaċ taoḃ de’n tsroṫán ag iṫe an ḃiolair agus ag ól an uisge.
C. Ṁaise, Dia linn, a Ṁiċíl, naċ suaraċ an biaḋ é!
M. Ní ċuirfeaḋ sé masmus ar ḋuine, geallaim ḋuit.
C. Cionnus ċaiṫis an aimsir ann, a Ṁiċíl?
M. Nuair ṡroiseas an áit, ḃí tuirse agus ocras orm, agus an ċéad duine a ḃuail umam, do iarras air rud éigin le n-iṫe ṫaḃairt dam. Níor rinn sé aċt féaċaint orm agus a ċeann do ċromaḋ arís. An méid díoḃ a ḃí am’ ċoṁgar, ṫógadar a gcinn agus d’ḟeuċadar orm, agus ann soin ċromadar arís, agus níor ċuireadar a ṫuilleaḋ suime ionnam. ’Nuair ná fuaras freagra níor laḃras a ṫuilleaḋ aċt imṫeaċt ag iṫe an ḃiolair leó.
Cúpla lá ’n-a ḋiaiḋ sin ḃíomair ag iṫe agus ag ól, agus gan focal as beul aoinne’, agus cad do seolfaiḋe fá’n ngleann isteaċ aċt bó agus í ag dul i múġa? ’Nuair ḟeuċ sí ’na tímċeall agus ċonnairc sí an fiaḋantas go léir, do ċuir sí an ḃúirṫeaċ aiste ba ṫruaiġṁéiliġe dár airiġ mo ḋá ċluais riaṁ. Ṗreabamair suas agus d’ḟeucamair uirrṫe. ’Nuair ḃí an ḃúirṫeaċ críoċnuiġṫe aice agus an macalla d’éis í ḟreagairt seaċt n-uaire ó’n sliaḃ, d’iompuiḋ sí ar a sálaiḃ agus ċuir sí an talaṁ dí ċoṁ geur a’s ḃí sé ’na cosaiḃ. Ċrom gaċ aoinne’ arís agus níor ḃíoḋg glór duine ná beiṫig ann go ceann seaċt mbliaḋan ó’n lá soin. Ann soin do ṫóg seanduine beag, a ḃí ann le fada, a ċeann. “Airíġim géim bó,” ar seisean. D’ḟeuċ gaċ aoinne’ air, agus níor laḃair duine.
D’imṫiġ seaċt mbliaḋna eile sul a ḃfuair sé sin freagra. Fé ḋeireaḋ d’osgail garsún a ḃeul agus duḃairt, “Cá’r airíġis í?”
D’ḟeuc gaċ aoinne’ ar an ngarsún agus níor ḃog aoinne’ a ḃeul féin.
I gceann seaċt mbliaḋan eile do ṫóg fear mór liaṫ suas a ċeann, agus d’ḟeuċ sé go feargaċ ar an gceud duine a ḃris ar an gciúnas. Ann soin d’ḟéuċ sé go feargaċ ar an ngarsún, agus a ḃfad anonn dó, is é rud aduḃairt sé: “Tá an gleann boḋar agaiḃ!”
C. Agus cad a rinnis ann soin, a Ṁiċíl?
M. Ṫáinig uaigneas orm. Ṫugas seaċt mbliaḋna ag feiṫeaṁ le caint an ḟir ḃig léiṫ. Ḃiḋeas ar feaḋ seaċt mbliaḋan ag braṫ ar ċeist an ġarsúin o ḋuine éigin. Ann soin ’nuair ċeapas go ndéarfaḋ an fear mór rud éigin fóġanta, isé rud a rinn sé stop do ċur leis an gcaint ar fad.
C. Am ḋáiġ, níor ḃ’iongnaḋ ḋó soin. Is agaiḃ a ḃí an gleó. Ċuireaḃair teinneas cinn ar an ḃfear mboċt.
M. Ṫáinig uaigneas orm-sa ann soin agus ṫánag a ḃaile.
Translation.
MAD MICK.
C. Michael, aroo, where did you come from to us, or where did you spend the time during more than twenty years?
M. I have been in Glen na ngealt, Kate.
C. And what sent you home?
M. The loneliness, then.
C. Is that place far away?
M. I was travelling for a week: before I reached it, and there is a week and more since I left it.
C. What sort of a place is it, Michael?
M. A very queer place, then, it is. A long, lonely wide glen, big high mountains on each side of it, a stream of water running through the middle of it, cresses growing on the bank of that stream, and a number of mad people gathered at both sides of the stream eating the cresses and drinking the water.
C. Wisha, God help us, Michael, is it not a scanty food?
M. It would not surfeit a person, I promise you.
C. How did you spend the time there, Michael?
M. When I reached the place I was tired and hungry, and the first person I met, I asked him for something to eat. He merely looked at me and bent his head again. Those of them who were near me raised their heads and looked at me, and then they bent down their heads again and took no more notice of me. As I did not get an answer, I did not speak any more, but went eating the
