| Manx | English | |
|---|---|---|
| Gynsaghey Gaelg | Learning Manx | |
| Ayns jerrey Fouyir ’sy vlein 1947 ren mee roshtyn Ellan Vannin dy sauchey erreeish da bunnys tree bleeaney ayns Injey raad va mee er ve my hidoor ayns armee Hostyn. | In October of the year 1947 I reached the isle of Man safely after nearly three years in India where I had been a soldier in the British Army. | |
| Cha row fockle dy Gaelg ayns my veeal ec y traa shen, myr dinsh mee diu ayns “Noon as Noal” nurree. | There wasn’t a word of Manx in my mouth at that time, as I told you in “Noon as Noal” last year. | |
| Va mee goaill nearey jeh shoh, er y fa dy row mee hannah er ve caghlaait voish Sostynagh aeg gys Manninagh dooie tra va mee ersooyl voish cheer my ghooie ayns shirveish Ree Hostyn as yn Impiraght loau echey. | I was ashamed of this, because I had already been converted from (being) a young Englishman to a true manxman when I was away from my native land in the service of the King of England and his rotten empire. | |
| Ayns Mee ny Boaldyn 1946 hooar my vummig ennoil baase dy doaltattym er my nah laa ruggyree as feed hene, tra v’ish tree bleeaney-jeig as daeed d’eash. | In May 1946 my beloved mother died suddenly on my own twenty-second birthday, when she was fifty-three years old. | |
| Ga dy vel ymmodee bleeantyn er n’gholl shaghey er dyn y laa shen ta mee foast goaill foddeeaght ny jei, agh shen yn aght ’sy theihll shoh, cha daink shin ooilley ec yn un traa as cha jemayd ec yn un traa edyr. | Although many years have passed since that day, I am still longing for her, but that is how it goes in this world, we didn’t all come at the same time, and we won’t go at the same time either. | |
| Shen va’n shenn sleih gra, ansherbee. | That is what the old people were saying anyway. | |
| Un laa er y tourey shen va mee hene as my Yishag as my Warree goll trooid Creneash ayns gleashtan my ayrey as dooyrt my ayr[1] as dooyrt my Warree, “Lhig dooin cur shilley er Plucky Ned heese ec Thie Harry Kelly, cha nel mee er n’akin Ned rish tammylt liauyr.” | One day that summer myself and my dad and my grandmother were going through Cregneash in my father’s car and my father said and, my grandmother too, “Let’s visit Plucky Ned down at Harry Kelly’s house, I haven’t seen Ned for a long while.” | |
|
[1] my ayr] text gives
[my ayrey]
| ||
| Va Ned as my Yishag Vooar Evan Crebbin er ve feer choardit tra v’ad shiaulley cooidjagh ayns lhongyn “Coast Lines”, er y fa dy row Gaelg ec yn jees oc as erskyn shen v’ad nyn gheiney mooinjerey er y fa dy row un warree oc, enmyssit “Yn Chenn Pheiagh” as ish cummal ec Yn Owe. | Ned and my grandfather Evan Vrebbin had got on very well together when they were sailing together in the “Coast Lines” ships, because the two of them knew Manx and furthermore they were relatives because they had the same grandmother, called “The Old Person” and she lived at the Howe. | |
| Shimmey skeeal cheayll mee voish Ned Maddrell ny s’anmey mychione Yn Chenn Pheiagh as y Gaelg vie v’eck! | Many’s the tale I heard from ned maddrell and later about ‘the Old Person” and her good Manx! | |
| Ansherbee, hie shin sheese dys Thie Harry Kelly dy akin y fer shoh va enmyssit “Plucky Ned” liorish my Warree, | Anyway, we went down to Harry Kelly’s House to see this fellow called by my grandmother “Plucky Ned”, | |
| as hie shin stiagh ’sy thie as honnick mee dooinney gennal, red beg feagh as red beg croymm, ny hoie keeil-chiollee,[2] | and we went into the house and I saw a cheerful man, somewhat quiet and a little stooped, seated by the fireplace, | |
|
[2] keeil-chiollee] text gives
[cooyl-chiollee]
| ||
| as chelleeragh ghow eshyn as my warree toshiaght dy loayrt ass y Vaarle Vanninagh, jannoo ymmyd jeh “thee” as “thou” as y lhied, myr va cliaghtey yn shenn sleih ec y traa shen ayns Mannin. | and straight away he and my grandmother began to speak in Anglo-Manx Dialect, using ‘thee’ and ‘thou’ and such, as was the custom of the old people at that time in the Isle of Man. | |
| Lurg tammylt hug my warree enney dou er Ned as dooyrt ee dy row eh enmyssit Mainshtyr Maddrell as dy row eh er ve shiaulley marish my yishig vooar as dy row Gaelg vie echey. | After a while my grandmother introduced me to Ned and she said he was called Mr. Maddrell and that he had been sailing with my grandfather and that he had good Manx. | |
| Dinsh my warree da Ned dy row suim aym er y Ghaelg as va Ned jeant magh dy chlashtyn shen as dooyrt eh red ennagh dou ’sy Ghaelg agh cha hoig mee fockle jeh! | My grandmother told Ned that I was interested in Manx and Ned was made-up to hear that and he said something to me in Manx but I didn’t understand a word of it! | |
| Agh va mee ny s’croutee na shen son ooilley son va mee er ve lhaih “Coayl Yn Brig Lily” liorish Juan Nelson, tammylt roish shen as va fys aym dy row ny focklyn “Dooinney dy Yee” yn Ghaelg son “Man of God” (ta ny focklyn shen ayns “Coayl Y Vrig”, ec yn jerrey bunnys.) | But I was craftier than that for all because I had read “The Loss of the Brig Lily” by John Nelson, a while before that and I knew that the words “Dooinney dy Yee” was the Manx for “Man of God” (these words are in “The Loss of the Brig”, almost at the end.) | |
| Quoi haink stiagh er dorrys Thie Harry Kelly ec y kiart vinnid shen agh saggyrt Sostynagh as blass feer Vaarlagh echey. | Who came in through the door of Harry Kelly’s house at that very minute but an English priest with a very English accent. | |
| Chionnee eh e higgad voish Ned (va Ned freayll rick er Thie Harry kelly ec y traa shen ass lieh Thie Tashtee Ellan Vannin) as dooyrt mee rish Ned “Dooinney dy Yee!” | He bought his ticket from Ned (Ned was keeping an eye on Harry Kelly’s house at that time on behalf of the Manx Museum) and I said to Ned “A Man of God!” | |
| Lheim Ned ass e hoiag bunnys as dooyrt eh, ayns Baarle “Ren oo gra shen gollrish Manninagh dooie, immee as ynsee Gaelg, as tar er ash ayns shoh dy loayrt rhym tra vees ee ayd!” | Ned almost leaped out of his seat and he said, in English “You said tht like a true Manxman, go and learn Manx, and come back here to talk to me when you know it!” | |
| “Neeym,” dooyrt mee, “Neeym dy jarroo,” as ren mee myrgeddin. | “I will,” I said, “I will indeed,” and I did too. | |
| Tra va shin faagail Thie Harry Kelly honnick mee yn eayst girree ’syn aer harrish Cronk Yn Arrey as va fys aym dy row “eayst” yn Ghaelg son “moon” as vrie mee jeh Ned, “Cre’n aght ta shiu fockley magh ‘eayst’,” as dinsh eh dou. | When we were leaving Harry Kelly’s house I saw the moon rising in the sky above Cronk yn Arrey and I knew that “eayst” was the Manx for “moon” and I asked Ned, “How do you pronounce ‘eayst’, and he told me. | |
| Ymmodee keayrtyn neayr’s yn laa shen ta Ned as mee hene er ve garaghtee mychione yn chied laa hie mee dy akin eh ayns Creneash, | Many times since that day Ned and myself have laughed about the first day I went to see him in Cregneash, | |
| as ny s’anmey, tra va gaelg flaaoil aym, yiarragh eh rhym , “Ta’n Ghaelg ayds ny share na’n Ghaelg v’ec dty Yishag Vooar nish,” | and later, when I was fluent in Manx, he would say to me, “Your Manx is better that the Manx of your great grandfather now,” | |
| as va mee gollrish moddey as daa ’amman echey tra va mee clashtyn Ned gra shen rhym. | and I was like a dog with two tails when I was hearing Ned say that to me. | |
| Hie mee da’n Thie Tashtee moghrey laa er giyn dy yeeaghyn son lioaryn Gaelgagh son dy ynsaghey chengey my ghooie hene va obbit dou tra va mee ev y scoill, | I went to the Manx Museum on the morning of the next day to look for Manx books for to study my own native language that was denied to me when I was at school, | |
| as haghyr mee er shenn charrey elley ain, haink mee dy ve feer ghrahagh er, va shen Chalse y Chleeree. | and I came across another old friend of ours, that I came to be very fond of, that was Chalse Clarke. | |
| Hooar Chalse baase er y Vlein Noa ’sy vlein 1954 as va mee ec yn oanluckey echey, ayns Doolish tra va mee er ash voish yn Africkey raad va mee er ve cummal rish shey bleeaney. | Chalse died on New Year’s Day 1954 and I was at his burial, in Douglas, when I was back from Africa where I had been living for six years. | |
| Hie Chalse as mee hene ooilley mygeayrt Mannin lesh shilley er ooilley’n shenn sleih va foast er mayrn as Gaelg oc, | Chalse and myself went all around Mann to see all the old people who were still left who knew Manx, | |
| as hug eh enney dou er Illiam Y Radlagh as Walter Y Chleeree as fy-yerrey er Leslie y Quirl, as she voish adsyn nyn droor as voish yn shenn sleih hene dy dooar mee ooilley’n Gahelg t’aym. | and he introduced me to Bill Radcliffe and Walter Clarke and finally Leslie Quirk, and it was from these three and from the old people themsleves that I got all the Manx I know. | |
| Ragh Illiam as Walter, Chalse as Leslie as mee hene gagh Doonaght as gagh oie er y chiaghtin va caa ain, gys thieyn yn shenn sleih. | Bill and Walter, Chalse and Leslie and myself would go every Sunday and every night of the week that we had a chance, to the houses of the old people. | |
| Yinnagh shin soie maroo ec y chiollagh, as va mee slane jeant magh tra oddin toiggal ooilley ny va goll er ayns Gaelg. | We would site with them at the fireside, and I was fully satisfied when I could understand all that was going on in Manx. | |
| Fy-yerrey haink yn chengey hym pene as ghow mee toshiaght ee y ynsaghey[3] da sleih aegey elley as eer da my lught thie hene. | Finally the tongue came to me and I started to teach it to other young people amd even to my own family. | |
|
[3] y ynsaghey] text gives
[y insaghey]
| ||
| Liorish y traa shoh va mee sooree er y ’neen ta mee poost rish laa jiu as harragh ish myrgeddin marin lesh shilley er yn chenn sleih. | By this time I was courting the girl I am married to today and she would come with us too to see the old people. | |
| Kys v’ad ‘tayrn my lurgey’ mychione y ’neen woyagh aeg va marym, gyn ish toiggal ny v’ad gra. | How they would ‘pull my leg’ about the pretty young girl who was with me, without her knowing what they were saying. | |
| Ny keayrtyn yiarrin ‘Bwooise da jee’ nagh row ee toiggal! | Sometimes I would say “Thank God” she wasn’t understanding! | |
| Blein ny ghaa ny lurg y traa shoh, as mish as Joyce poost, haink Leslie y Quirk dy obbraghey marym as va Gaelg goll eddyr ain gagh laa jeh’n chiaghtin, as er lhiam dy re yn traa shen eh dy dooar mee yn chooid smoo jeh’n Ghaelg aym as dy daink mee dy ve flaaoil aynjee. | A year or two after this time, with I and Joyce married, Leslie Quirk came to work with me and manx was going between us every day of the week, and I think it is then that I got most of my Manx and I came to be fluent in it. | |
| Cha dod mee jannoo veg elley as Leslie mygeayrt y moom dagh ooilley cor-vinnid as Gaelg taaley ass e veeal! | I couldn’t do anything else with Leslie around me every other minute and Manx flowing out of his mouth! | |
| Mysh yn traa shen va shenn Homaase y Karran voish Creneash cummal ayns Doolish. | Around that time old Thomas Karran from cregneash was living in Douglas. | |
| V’eh cur stiagh y chenn eash echey ayns thie e vac ayns Raad Phurt Ny Hinshey. | He was passing his old age in his son’s house in Peel Road. | |
| Harragh Thobm neose lesh shilley er Leslie as mee hene bunnys dagh ooilley laa, dooinney gennal as coar v’eh as yn eddin echey soilshean lesh eunys er y fa dy row daa ghooinney aeg faggys dasyn as chengey ny mayrey oc. | Tom would come down to see leslie and myself almost every day, he was a cheerful and agreeable man, with his face shining with delight because there were two young men near him who knew the mother tongue (of the Isle of Man). | |
| Cha jinnagh eh loayrt Baarle er chor erbee as un laa, traa dooyrt Manninagh ommidjagh ennagh va ny hassoo faggys dooin as shinyn pleadeil ’sy Ghaelg, “What’s that rubbish you are talking?” | He wouldn’t say English at all and one day, when a foolish Manxman who was standing near to us whislt we were nattering in Manx said “What’s that rubbish your talking?” | |
| haink corree mooar er Thobm as deam eh magh ’sy Ghaelg, “Ta shin loayrt yn ghlare jeh’n thalloo ta shiu shassoo er!” | Tom got very angry and he called out in Manx “We are speaking the language of the land you are standing on!” | |
| Cha hoig y Manninagh veg jeh, dy dooghyssagh, agh hooar eh yn ‘chaghteraght’ as daag eh shin. | The Manxman didn’t understand any of it, naturally, but he got the ‘message’ and he left us. | |
| Va braar ec Thomaase as v’eh enmyssit Jamys y Karran as v’eh baghey ayns Creneash as ga dy row Gaelg echey cha jinnagh eh loayrt assjee edyr! | Thomaase had a brother and he was called James Karran and he was living in Cregneash and although he knew Manx he wouldn’t speak in it at all! | |
| Tra loayragh shin ayns Gaelg rishyn yinnagh eh freggyrt ass y Vaarle! | When we would speak in Manx to him he would answer in English! | |
| V’eh aitt agglagh ny keayrtyn tra va coloayrtys goll ayns daa hengey, shinyn loayrt ’sy Ghaelg as eshyn briaght reddyn voin ’sy Vaarle as ny freggyrtyn ain ’sy Ghaelg! | It was awful funny sometimes when there was a conversation progressing in two languages, us speaking in Manx and he asking things from us in English and our answers in Manx! | |
| Ayns Creneash ec y traa shen va Bnr. Karran baghey myrgeddin, ben yindyssagh, coar as gennal myr va ooilley ny shenn Ghaelgeyryn bione dou. | Also living in Cregneash at that time, there was a Mrs. Karran, a wonderful women, agreeable and cheerful as were all the old Manx speakers I knew. | |
| V’ish as Thomaase as Ned as Jamys as mee hene ooilley sleih mooinjerey, ooilley gollrish un lught-thie mooar. | She and Thomas and Ned and James and myself were all relatives, all like one big family. | |
| Va shin fakin yn shenn sleih goll sheese ny lhargagh as va fys ain dy beagh ad ersooyl roish foddey, shen y fa ren shin kiarail dy yannoo recoyrtyssyn jeu ooilley. | We were seeing the old people going downhill and we knew that they would be gone before long, that is why we planned to make recordings of them all. | |
| Cha row suim ny cooney erbee cheet voish Reiltys Vannin as va boirey orrin er y fa nagh row argid ain dy chionnaghey “Sound Mirror”, | There was no interest or help at all coming from the Isle of Man Government and we were worried because we didn’t have money to buy a “Sound Mirror”, | |
| va shen yn un ghreie-recoyrtys[4] va ry-gheddyn ayns ny laghyn shen, greie mooar staghylagh v’eh as v’eh orrin dy cur lesh eh dys thie ennagh as lectraghys ayn dy yannoo ny recortyssyn. | that was the one recording machine that was available in those days, it was a big clumsy machine and we had to bring it to some house that had electricity in it to make the recordings. | |
|
[4] yn un ghreie-recoyrtys] —
[yn ynrican ghreie-recoyrtys] ‘the only recording maching’ would be expected here. (
[yn un ghreie recoyrtys] woud be understood as ‘the same recording machine.
| ||
| Fy-yerrey haink nyn garrey Juan y Geill nyn gouyr lesh yn argid dy chionnaghey “Sound Mirror” as chionnee shin nane ayns shapp Clague ayns Balley Chashtal un oie feayr geuree. | Finally, our friend John Gell came to our aid with money to buy a “Sound Mirror” and we bought one in Clague’s shop in Castletown one cold winter night. | |
| Bee fys ec ooilley nyn lhaihderyn dy row yn obbyr cooilleenit fy-yerrey hoal as dy vel ny recortyssyn shen ooilley foast ayn as erskyn leagh. | All our readers will know that the work was fufilled at long last and that those recordings still exist and are priceless. | |
| Lhisagh Juan y Geill er ve chebbit yn Chrosh Cheltiagh (airh) dy beagh yn lhied ayn. | John Gell should be offered the Celtic Cross (gold) if there were such a thing. | |
| Va Juan y Kring (Yn Gaaue) dy mennick cheet marin voish e hie ayns Curreeyn Balley ny Loghey gys thie Illiam ayns Rhumsaa dy yannoo recortyssyn. | John Kneen (The Gaaue — The Smith) was often coming with us from his house in the Ballagh Curraghs to Bill’s house in Ramsey to make recordings. | |
| Un laa hie eh roishyn rish kiare ooryn gyn scuirr. Yn oie shen hug mee lhiam dy valley eh as tra v’eh faagail yn gleashtan dooyrt eh rhym, | One day he went on for four hours non-stop. One night I brought him home and when he was leaving the car he said to me, | |
| “Cha ’sayms cre’n eash ta mee wooinney! Ta mee smooinaghtyn dy vel yn keead faagit my yei, my ta!” | “I don’t know what age I am, man! I think that the hundred is left behind me, though!” | |
| Jeh un red ta mish hene kiart shickyr — va’n Gaaue yn dooinney shinney ren mee rieau fakin ’sy theihll shoh. | Of one thing I myself am quite sure — the Gaaue was the oldest man I ever saw in this world. | |
| Va’n eddin echey gollrish eddin shenn noo, lhied as ta ry-akin ayns uinnag chillagh. | His face was like the face of an old saint, such as is to be seen in a church window. | |
| Dy jarroo va uinnag jeant jehsyn ny s’anmey ayns Sostyn as ren ad macsoyley jeh eddin y Ghaauin son Noo Andreays! | Indded, a window was made of him later in England and they made a copy of the Gaaue’s face for Saint Andrew! | |
| Ansherbee, — t’ad ooilley ersooyl nish, yn shenn sleih, as ta sheeloghe noa dy Ghaelgeyryn ayn as Gaelg vie t’oc neesht. | Anyway, they are all gone now, the old people, and there is a new generation of Manx speakers and they have good Manx too. | |
| Ta mee kiart shickyr nagh jean y Ghaelg dy bragh geddyn baase. | I am quite sure that Manx will never die. | |
| Bee caghlaaghyn aynjee gyn ourys, agh nagh vel caghlaaghyn ayns dagh ooilley hengey vio? | There will be changes in it no doubt, but aren’t there changes in all living languages? | |
| Dooys, ta chengey ny mayrey er ve taitnys as eunys ooilley my lhing neayrs y laa shen hie mee lesh shilley son y chied keayrt er “Plucky Ned” ’sy thie beg thooit ayns Creneash raad hug Yeaman De Valera bun er aavioghey ny Gaelgey ayns 1947, tra va mish shirveishagh yn Ree Shorus ayns yn Injey, yn “Cliejeen s’gilley ayns crooin Hostyn,” agh ta shen skeeal elley. | For me, the mother tongue (of the Isle of Man) has been a pleasure and delight all my time, since that day I went to visit, for the first time ‘Plucky Ned” in the little thatched house in Cregneash where Éamon De Valera established the Manx language revivial in 1947, when I was serving King George in India, the “brighest jewel in the crown of England,” but that is another story. | |
| “Breaghagh” | “Breaghagh” | |