Hardly Daily Gaeilge

 

The intention here is to post short texts by native speakers of the three main dialects (Ulster, Connacht and Munster) once a week. (I will also continue posting the other things every Saturday or Sunday.)

Why?

Irish today exists inside an English-speaking world, and even the language of people who grew up speaking the language is deeply influenced by the fact. Not that they speak or write “bad” Irish, but the language is often impoverished and bare compared to what went before.

That is a shame, since one of the things that made Irish different was its incredible richness and directness of observation and expression. It’s been called a Medieval language as an insult, but it is Medieval in some ways: it is a language created by people in place drawing on a two thousand year old tradition.

Below, from page 86-87 of Lá Dár Saol by Seán Ó Criomhthainn, the son of “The Islandman”, Tomás. The book was published by Oifig an tSoláthair in 1972. This bit chosen at random.

Is beas liom bualadh amach as an áras so gach tráthnóna agus siúl liom chomh fada le Baile ne Leacan. Níl aon lá ná go mbuailfidh diabhal éigint leat a dhéanfaidh tamall den lá a mheilt duit, cuid acu ná fuil puinn cúraim eile orthu, mar gur ar an ndeol atá a seasamh, na daoine bochta.

Bhíos I gcóngar an bhaile nuair a chuala an chailleach ag cur asisti, agus líofacht Ghaelainne aici a bhí ró-mhaith don Athair Peadar Ó Laoíre  aon lá. Ní raibh an chailleach chomh mín ná chomh mánla  ina bréithre agus a bheadh am Laorach, áfach, ná chomh síbhíalta.  Ach b’í a cuid cainnte a bhí uaim-se, mar táim cortha ag na paidreacha. Agus rud eile dhe, nuair a bheidh cuid acsu o fé’n nfód, beidh an liofacht so bailithe leí ar fad uainn, cé go mbeidh na paidreacha fágtha, is dócha.

(It is my custom to venture out of this dwelling every evening and walk to Baile na L. There’s no day you wouldn’t run into some scoundrel who’ll pass a bit of the day for you: some of them without much else to do with themselves since they depend on the dole, the poor guys.

I was still close to the house when I heard the old woman making a fuss in the kind of fluent Irish that would be too much for Father Peadar any day. The old woman wasn’t as gentle and polite in speech as Father P, or as well-mannered. But her talk what I want because I’m weary of the prayers. And another thing: when some of these (people) are dead (under the soil), this fluency will be completely gone too, though we’ll probably still have the prayers.

Another random bit below, from the book An Tairidheach by Aindrias O Baoil (Baoighill) , Oifig an tSoláthair, 1947. He was from near Glenties  (Donegal) and though not a native speaker, all the older people around him were, including his parents, and he learned the language as an adolescent.

Ní thearn Seán ná a chomradaí stad ná conaí gur shroich siad stáisiún na bhóthar iarainn mar a bhfuair siad traen a thug go Struibhle iad. Agus mar bhí an buachaill eile measartha eolach  ar an áit agus ar dhóigheanna na ndaine, rinne sé eolas an bhealaigh do Sheáin ‘fad le thigh Thomáis Uí Bhrolcháin.

Teach bhreagh áirgeamháil   a bhí ann a raibh a aghaidh ó dheas agus a cúl le páirceanna  agus le cuibhrinn méithe. Ar dha thaobh an chosáin bhig a bhí ag dul suas  fhad leis an tigh, bhí rosaí geala ag fás  agus ag scabhadh a gcumhrachta ar an fhothán nádurtha a bhí agí teacht aniar ndeas.

Seán and his companions didn’t stop or pause only they reached the train station where they got a train that took them to Stirling (?). And since the other boy was fairly knowledgeable about the place and the ways of the peopled, he made out the way to T O’B’s house for Seán.

It was a fine distinguished house facing south, with fields behind it and ??  , On the two sides of the little walk going to the house, white roses were growing, spreading their sweetness on the ??? that was coming from the southwest.

And from Connacht, and specifically from north Roscommon, here is a little bit of the play Súil Uí Dhubhda le hÁird na Rí, a drama by Seán Ó Ruairi from near Ballaghadereen, published in 1906.

 

Ủna:  Ach cuimnugh ar imeall an locha agus ar an gcuaich  a labhróchas  sa tsamhradh agus ar an mionnan aerach ag éirí ó’n gcurrach ag teacht don oíche!

Féilim: Nílim ag déanamg dearmaid ortha. Chuirfeadh na neithe sin aoibhneas ar an gcroidhe  a bhéadh sásta, ach ní thiubhraidís grádh don chroidhe  a bheadh  mío-shásta…A Ủna, pósfaidh tú mé nuair a thiocfas Micheál abhaile?

(I Méiriceá atá Micheál)

(Tugann sí a dá láimh dó)

F: Tá mé lán-tsásta anois. Ní iarraim ort a thuilleadh. Tá Dia go maith. Tá mé lán-tsásta. (Téann go dtí an doras./) Tá do mhathair ag teacht. Slán beo agat, a Ủna.

Mathair: ‘bhfuil na prataí bruite dom mhic fós. Níl, ná baoghal ortha.  Is deacair díon  a choinneál os cionn cuid de na daoine atá aa, an saoghal seo, creid uaim-se é. Féach an tine bhreadh sin caitte agat anois gan pioc tairbhe. Is mairg an té a gheobhas Cailín de do leithéid."

I’ve kept the 1906 spelling for the most part, though I’ve deleted two points  that reflect 1906 grammatical conventions rather than Roscommon Irish.

North Roscommon/South Leitrim Irish were unusual. The vocabulary is trending Northern, but word accentuation was similar in many ways to Munster.

Short recordings were made by Doegen and here’s a link to one of them below. 

Kilmovee, Mayo, was until this century in Roscommon, and is just west of Ballaghadereen. Two fluent speakers were still alive there in the late 1950s and one is in Wagner’s Linguistic Atlas. A study of his Irish appeared in various issues of Éigse, but did not make it into book form.

https://www.doegen.ie/LA_1136g1