| Manx | English | |
|---|---|---|
| CO-LOAYRTYS | A CONVERSATION | |
| EDDYR | BETWEEN | |
| MANNANAN-BEG-MAC-Y-LEIRR , | MANNANAN-BEG-MAC-Y-LEIRR , | |
| REE HROOR-CHASSAGH ELLAN VANNIN | THREE-LEGGED KING OF THE ISLE OF MAN | |
| AS | AND | |
| SHENN-VEN VANNINAGH | AN OLD MANX WOMAN | |
| ER MULLAGH SNIAUL. | ON THE TOP OF SNAEFELL | |
| By Thomas Kelly, Bridge-street, Peel; translated by the Rev. J. T. Clarke. | By Thomas Kelly, Bridge-street, Peel; Translated by the Rev. J. T. Clarke. | |
| Yn Chenn-Ven.— Moghrey-vie ort, Vannanan-veg-vac-y-Leirr, ta yindys orrym dy veeteil rhyts ayns shoh. Ta mee er ve jeeaghyn er-dty-hon er dy chooilley cheu son ymmodee bleeantyn, fegooish caslys erbee jeed. | The Old Woman - Good morning on you, Mannanan-beg-mac-y-Leirr, I’m amazed to meet you here. I’ve been looking for you all around for many years, without any sign of you. | |
| Mannanan. — O my ven ennoil! te gerjaghey my chree dy veeteil rhyts er-yn-oyr dy vel my heaghyn er ve wheesh, as my chaarjin cha goaun ta red beg dy haggloo rhyts keayrt elley aa-vioghey my chree as te gymmyrkey lheid y voggey ayns my annym, as nagh vel mee er nennaghtyn son ymmodee bleeantyn. | Mannanan. — O my beloved woman! It comforts my heart to meet you for the reason that my troubles have been so great, and my friends so scarce, that a little talk to you once again revives my heart and it brings forth such joy in my soul that I haven’t felt for many years. | |
| Yn Ven.— Cre ta dooghys dty heaghyn, O vannanan-veg-vac-y-Leirr, as cre voish te er jeet? | The Woman. - What is the nature of your trouble, O Mannanan-beg-mac-y-Leirr, and where has it come from? | |
| Mannanan.—Tou jannoo yindys dou dy vel oo briagh lheid ny feyshtyn jeem, my henn-ven. Fys feer vie t’ayd’s er, dy vel mee er ve my ree, ayns Elian Vannin, agh ayns oor neu-foayroil, as trooid croutys sleih joarree, va mee ceaut sheese veih’n beinn-toor ’syrjey jeh ooashley as pooar dys yn voghtynid skercheenagh syn Ellan. As cre ta’n eiyrtys echey nish ? | Mannanan.— You amaze me to be asking such questions of me, dear old woman. Very well you know that I have been a king in the Isle of Man, but at an unfortuitous hour, and through the trickery of foreigners, I was cast down from the highest tower-peak of nobility and power to the most debased state of poverty in the Island. And what is the consequence of that now? | |
| T’ad’syn nagh vod ve er nyn soyllaghey rhyms, ayns aght erbee, edyr ayns ynsagh, ny tushtey, ny keeayll, jeeaghyn orrym ayns faghid, as gymmyrkey ad hene hym myr rish roosteyr. Keayrt dy row vadsyn, va fo my reill’s cur arrym dou, as v’ad graihagh orrym. Hug ad lhieu hym, dy chooilley vlein, kuse dy hraagh lheannagh-reeastagh er-nonney leaghyr veih mullagh varrool dys thie-chummal my ard-er-oik ec cosh y Chlieay. | Those that couldn’t be compared to me in any way, either in education, or knowledge, or sense, are looking at me in scorn, and behave towards me as they would towards a bandit. Once upon a time those who were under my rule respected me, and they loved me. They brought to me, every year, a few rough meadow straws, or else coarse grass from the top of Barrule, to the dwelling-house of my chief officer at the foot of the mountain. | |
| Eer cooiney yn Ellan ain ve argid foalsey, mannagh row yn eilley hroor-chassagh er ny chleughey er; agh nish my henn ven ennoil, ta mee eiyrit ersooyl veih ynnydyn-vaghee ny bio-ee dy rouail er y traie rish oirr-ny-marrey, ny er mullagh ny sleityn. Eer ny reggyryn veggey dy phingyn ta ry-gheddyn lesh my chowrey orroo tad ceaut ayns curneil myr argid-foalsey, yn ynrican red t’oc nish dy reayl seose cooinaghtyn jeh ny shenn traa-yn, te skeayley kuse beg dy huinyn, er mullagh Cronk-Cheeylloin. | The very currency of the Island being counterfeit unless the three-legged armour was stamped on it; but now my dear beloved old woman, I am driven away from the dwellings of the living to wander on the shore by the edge of the sea, or on top of the mountains. Even the small few pennies that are to be found with my mark on them, they’re thrown in a corner as counterfeit, the only thing they have now to uphold memories of the old times, is spreading a few rushes on Tynwald Hill. | |
| Yn Ven.—C’raad eisht ta’n Chummal ayd nish? | The Woman. - Where then is your dwelling now? | |
| Mannanan.—Son ymmodee bleeantyn va mee cummal ayns guag vooar yn Valla-ghyr, as va mee, paayrt dy cheayrtyn, taaghey tholtanyn Caishtal Purt-ny-hinshey, agh va mee immanit roym lioroosyn va gra dy row mee yn “voddey-dhoo.” Fakin er-y-fa-shen dy row my vioys ayns gaue, hie mee roym dys spooyt vooar Ghlione-vaïe. Ayns shen ghell ad rhym myr y Phynnodderee : shen-y-fa ren mee joan my choshey y hraa noi slieh Ghoordan as Ghlione-vaïe, as roym lhiam jeeragh trooid Gloine-reagh-Rushin, ghow mee aaght fei-yerrey ayns ny Scauryn ec Creg-Neaish. | Mannanan. - For many years I was living in the great cave of Ballaghyr, and I was sometimes haunting the ruins of Peel Castle, but I was driven on my way by those who were saying I was the “black dog.” Seeing therefore that my life was in danger, I went to the big spout of Glen Maye. There they dealt with me like the Phynnodderee; therefore I shook the dust off my feet against the people the of Gordon and Glen Maye, and off on my way with me, straight through merry Glen Rushen Glen, I took lodging at last in the chasms at Cregneash. | |
| Agh, cre bheeu shen, ta ny joarreeyn shoh te’r jeet ny vud ain cha steetagh - as cha lane dy pheeikearys, dy daink ad lesh trimmidyn vooarey leoaie, kianlt dys teddyn liauyrey — gimman y tedd ayns scoltaghyn-ny-creggey — as leaystaney eh veih cheu dy heu, feiyral as jannoo tharmane, dy dagglee ad mee as roie mee roym dys Langness ec Runnysfie ; agh eer ayns shen cha voddey duirree mee, son er-yn-on er-yn-oyr nagh row thie-lossan-lhuingys dy hauail bioys shiauldeyryn voghtey, va my chree bunnys brisht cheu-sthie jeem ec fakin wheesh dy chragh jeant jeh lhongyn — brisht ayns peeshyn mynney er ny creggyn, as ec geaishtagh rish eamyn atchimagh shialteyryn voghtey baih, fegooish cooney dy hauail ad. | But what worth was that? These foreigners that have come amongst us so sneakily - and so full of prying, that they came with big lead weights, tied to long ropes — driving the rope into the chasms of the rock — and swinging it from side to side, making noise and thunder, so that they frightened me and I ran off to Langness at Ronaldsway ; but even there I couldn’t stay long, for, because there wasn’t a ‘ship flame house’ (lighthouse ) to save the lives of poor sailors, my heart was almost broken inside of me at seeing so much carnage made of ships — smashed into tiny pieces on the rocks, and listening to the terrible cries of poor sailors drowning, without help to save them. | |
| Cha voddagh ennaghtyn my chree shassoo eh veg sodjey, as hie mee roym dys ny sleityn, Jiass as Twoaie, yn daa Varrool, Cronk-yn-irree-laa, Sniaull, Slieau-Whallian—as sleityn elley yn Ellan, nagh row foddey voish y traïe, raad va mee dy kinjagh faarkey. Agh va’n shee aym reesht er ny vrishey ’sy Chlieau. Chreck ad ny sleityn voghtey voym as voish y Theay. | The feelings of my heart could not stand it any longer, and I went on my way to the mountains, South and North, the two Barrules, Cronk-yn-irree-laa, Snaefell, Slieau Whallian - and the other mountains of the Island that weren’t far from the shore where I was always bathing. But my peace was again broken on the Mountain. They sold the poor mountains (away), from me and from the people. | |
| Choud’s daag ad yn reiltys dyms[1], va wheesh ec y Theay, dy ghra rish ny sleityn as voc dys yn aer er-nyn-skyn as ny ushtaghyn mygeayrt-y-moo. Agh nish ooilley ’n raad veih Kione Ghoolish dys Kione Vaughold as harrish ooilley sleityn Vannin, ta’d er staikey ad lesh maidjaghyn vooarey, goll-rish greïe-vultee as ta’d er chur ennym vooar Vaarlagh er ny Staïkyn, nagh vel uss as mish—my henn chumraag, toiggal feer vie, er-yn-oyr dy re Gailek, Chengey-ny-Mayrey ain — as cha mooar lhian yn vaarle oc. | Whilst they left the governance to me, the people had so much — to name the mountains they had, the sky above them, and the waters round about them. But now all the way from Douglas Head to Maughold Head and over all the mountains of the Isle of Man, that have staked them out with big sticks like a battering-ram, and they’ve put a big English name on the portions, that you and I—my old companion, don’t understand very well, because Manx is our mother tongue — and we don’t care for their English. | |
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[1] dym’s—'to me’, this is more usually dooys, or, unstressed; dou. Dooyrt Leslie Quirk rish Rob Teare dy row ny loayrtee ren eh gynsagh Gaelg voue ny keayrtyn gra dym as dym’s ayns ynnyd dou as dooys.
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| Ta ennym ny Staikyn er ny sleityn va cliaghtey ve lhien hene red ennagh gol-rish Abernethies, lhig dou ve kiart ny dyn. Agh s’yindyssagh yn red eh, Ven ! (marish dy chooilley nhee elley ta’d er n’yannoo) ec Purt-Chiarn, er slyst-ny-marrey-my heear jeh’n Ellan ain, t’ad er n’oanluckey ’syn ushtey ny keeadyn as ny thousaneyn thunney jeh creggyn ny Howe, ’sy vaïe, as er villey yn phurt veg v’ayn roie, va cliaghtey ve boayl dy hauchys veih’n Challoo dys Kione-ny-hayrey. | The names of the portions on the mountains that used to be our own are like Abernethies (ship biscuits), let me be right or not (aren’t I correct?). But what a wonderful thing, Woman! (Along with everything else they’ve done) at Port Erin, on the westward sea coast of our Island, they’ve buried in the waters of the sea hundreds and thousands of tons of rocks from the Howe, in the bay, and have ruined the little port that was there before, that used to be a place of safety from the Calf to the Point of Ayre. | |
| Yn Chenn Ven.—Agh Vannanan voght c’raad ta dty chummal nish ? | The Old Woman. - But poor Mannanan, where is your dwelling now? | |
| Mannanan.— Ta mee nish cummal ayns unnane jeh ny glionteenyn sbwoïe ’syn Ellan ain, ta shen dy ghra “Glione-valure, ec Rumsaa, agh ta aggle orrym, eer ayns shen, nagh bee my hee, as my vaynrys foddey beayn, son er y gherrit shoh ta mee er chlashtyn yllagh as eam feer neu-ghooghyssagh gra, “c’raad t’ou Adam?” (Adaue.) | Mannanan. - I now live in one of the prettiest glens in our Island, namely, “Ramsey’s Ballure Glen, but I’m afraid, even there, that my peace and my happiness won’t last long, for recently I have heard very unnatural shouting and calling, saying; “Where are you Adam?” (Adaue). | |
| Heïll mee, hoshiaght ooilley, dy row ny eam-yn hreih shoh cheet voish fer ta abyl loayrt ass e volg, son haink y choraa ec caghlaaghyn cheayrt voish dagh Skeerey runt mygeayrt. | I supposed, first of all, that these miserable cries were coming from a ventriloquist (man able to speak from his stomach), because the voice came at different times from every parish round about. | |
| Eisht laa dy row vrie mee jeh Ferrish va mee ainjyssagh urree as dinsh ee do’u, dy rou ny coraaghyn va mee er chlashtyn cheet voish Credjuagh dy row ta soilshaghey magh yn aigney echey paayrt dy cheayrtyn da’n Theay—as, goaill aggle, dy voddagh paayrt dy leih smooinaghtyn dy row yn kynney echey, keayrt ny keayrt ennagh, er jeet neose veih buggane-vooar-Gob-ny-Scuit, t’eh baarail yn chooid smoo jeh’n traa echey ayns arganey rish y sleih, as gennaghtyn feer imneagh dy jinnagh yn cheid ghooinney va hoshiaght er ny chroo reesht cheet er-ash, as cur e chooney da, dy chur dy lhiattee dy chooilley vee-ourys dy row mooinjerys eddyr eh-hene as y vuggane (buggane-vooar-gob-ny-Scuit) veagh dy kinjagh gyllagh ’syn egin hreih echey - “craad t’ou Adam ?” Ga-reih da’n choontey shoh currit dooys ec yn ferrish jeh ny eamyn hreih va mee clashtyn, ve yn irriney ny dyn, fys feer vie t’aym pene nagh voddym shassoo eh monney sodjey. | Then one day I asked a Fairy I was aquainted with and she told me that the voices I had heard were coming from a certain old Believer who reveals his mind sometimes to the people — and, afraid that some people could think that his kin had, at some time or other, descended from the big buggane of Gob-ny-Scuit, he uses up most of his time arguing with the people, and feeling very anxious that the first man who was first created would come back again and give him his help to put aside every suspicion that there was a blood connection between himself and the buggane (the big buggane of Gob-ny-Scuit) would be constantly shouting in his agony - “where are you Adam?” Albeit this account, given to me by the fairy, of the miserable shouts I was hearing, be the truth or not, I very well know myself that I won’t be able to stand it much longer. | |
| Yn Chenn Ven.—Ny lhag-haghyrtyn hreih shoh t’er duittym ort’s, O Vannanan voght my chree, ta'd er ve kyndagh rish mellid dty reiltys ayns dty reeriaght. Dy beagh oo, ayns dty reiltys, er chionney yn eiystyr ayd red beg smoo, as er chur oalsum er y vooa vraddagh cha row yn arkys shoh er verraghtyn orrin cha tappce, son ta seaghyn as angaish er jeet orrym’s chammah as ort hene. | The Old Woman. - These miserable mishaps that have befallen you, O poor Mannanan my darling, they have been because of the sweetness of your rule in your kingdom. If you, in your governance, had fastened your halter a little bit more, and had put a restraint (rope tied from the horn or head to the leg) on the cow that breaks over fences, this calamity wouldn’t have overtaken us so fast, for sorrows and anguish have come upon me as well as upon yourself. | |
| Mannanan.— Ayns dy chooilley arrymid dys dty vriwnys, my heshey vie, ta mee aarloo dy yannoo magh, nagh vel reiltys erbee er ve ayns Mannin dy ve er ny hoylaghey rish yn ghurneillys aym pene. Ayns laghyn yn reiltys aym's, va’n sleih beaghey ayns shee as maynrys. Cha row ad fo cheeshyn myr ta’d nish. Cha row carriads erbee orroo agh red beg son ny raaidyn vooarey. Cha row meshtallee ny mast’ oc, as er-y-fa shen, cha row ynnyd erbee ’syn Ellan aym, son Plaase vooar aalin son Sleih cheoie. | Mannanan. — With all respect to your judgment, my good partner, I am ready to maintain that there has been no governance at all in the Isle of Man to be compared with my own governing. In the days of my rule, the people were living in peace and happiness. They weren’t taxed as they are now. There was no compulsory highway labour for them at all, except a little bit for the big roads. There were no drunkards amongst them, and therefore, there was no need at all in my Island for a big beautiful Palace for crazy people. | |
| “Yn chuilleig-hashtee va gollym[2] jeh’n chostrayl, | “The store corner was empty of the bottle, | |
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[2] gollym—‘empty’. Follym—is the usual word for ‘empty’. Both folmaghey and golmaghey are found for emptying.
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| Son ymmyd ny wagaantee as ny fir-’hee ; Stoo-loshtee yn oastys va er ny hreggeil, | For the use of the homeless and the fairy men ; The licensee’s burning stuff (firewater, stong drink) was forsaken, | |
| Yn sleih aym fegooish aarkys ny mellid erbee.” | My people without calamity or poverty at all.” | |
| Agh nish ta loght as kercheenys er lhieeney nyn straidyn : agh cre’n seaghyn t’er jeet orts, my henn ven? | But now crime and degradation have filled our streets: but what sorrow has come upon you, (my) old woman? | |
| Yn Chenn Ven.—Ta’n seaghyn aym's ny smoo na oddys chengey fockley magh. Goll-rhyt hene ta mee er ve eebryt ersooyl as currit ass cheer. Son ymmoddee bleeantyn, hooar mee aaght-hie syn Niarbyl as Lhagg vooar Ghelby—Deiyr my noidyn mee ass shen dys Ronnag, raad hooar me ymmyrkey-bea ny cummaltee echey millit ec drogh-yantee. | The Old Woman. - My sorrows are greater than a tongue can proclaim. Like yourself, I have been driven away and exiled. For many years, I got a lodging house in Niarbyl and the great hollow of Dalby - My enemies chased me out of there to Ronague, where I found the lifestyle of its inhabitants ruined by sinners. | |
| Hie mee eisht dys Festard, nagh row monney share —as veih shen dys ny Chickenyn — reesht hooar ad magh mee ayns shen as deiyr ad roym mee—as nish son y cheayrt ’sjerree—ta mee er jeet dys sleityn yn chenn Ellan villish ain dy ghoaill yn shilley ’sjerree jee, marish slystyn ny marrey, dy gholl roym ass y Cheer son dy bragh dys Cleveland ayns America, v’er graih dou as ghowys chymmey jeem son t’ad loayrt yn ghlare aym pene as cummal seose ee dy chooilley-laa. | Then I went to Fistard, that wasn’t much better, and from there to the Chickens. Again they found me out there and drove me away - and now for the last time - I have come to the mountains of our sweet old Island to take the last sight of her, with the sea coasts, to go forth from the land forever, to Cleveland in America, that will love me and take pity on me, for they speak my own language and uphold her every day. | |
| Mannanan.—-My henn ven voght son aym pene, ta’n vea aym bunnys roit— agh my hig uss royd, nee ymmoddee gosnaghey er y choontey ayd. | Mannanan. — My poor old woman, as for myself, my life is almost run — but if you go there will a lot of sighing on your account. | |
| Yn Chenn Ven.— Ta me credjal dy vel shiartanse ’syn Ellan foast nee gennaghtyn son aym—lheid as Pesson Cheeyl-Charberrey, Pesson Cheeyl-vraddan, Cheeyl-Chonnaghyn, Cheeyl-Lhonnan as Cheeyl-Vreeshey — marish ymmoddee sleih-by-yiass as by-hwoaïe, te’r ve streeu dy chur lhieu mee dys yn stayd va mee keayrt ayn. | The Old Woman. - I believe that there are several in the Island that will still feel for me - such as the parson of Arbory Church, the parson of Braddan Church, Onchan Church, Lonan Church and Bride Church, as well as many people South and North that have been striving to bring me to the state I was once in. | |
| Agh cre sheeu shen, roym higgym ny-yeih, as ver-ym lhiam marym enmym Aspick Wilsen as Mark Hildesley — as ooilley ny shenn saggyrtyn ren chyndaa Goo yee ayns Gailck, yn chenn ghlare ghraihagh aym pene, as ooilley adsyn er dy-henney te’r streeu dy reayl seose ee—as bee ad Caarjin Vanninagh my chree. | But what worth is that? I’ll go on my way anyway, and I’ll bring with me the name of Bishop Wilson and Mark Hildesley — and all the old priests that translated the word of God into Manx, my own lovely language, and all those since that have striven to uphold it — and they will be the Manx friends of my heart. | |
| Mannanan.—Ny shenn traa-yn roish nish va ny traa-yn ghloyroil. | Mannanan. — The old days before now were glorious times. | |
| Yn Chenn Ven.— Vad dy jarroo traa-yn ghloyroil, agh ga dy row ny sayraghyn as ny leihaghyn ayds “oyr aggle da drogh obbraghyn,” Rom. XIII. 3. Foast cha row bree erbee ayndoo fegooish ve loayrit ayns my ennym’s. Ren mish arganey cooishyn yn chloan gyn Ayr as ny mraane-hreoghe lesh yn flaoilid s’breeoil —as er stoyl-ny-mriwnys raad hoie mee dy kinjagh dy reaghey cooishyn y Theay, lhiann mee dy kinjagh er cheu graih as spyrryd dy ghiastyllys — chamoo dy hurr mee da feanish erbee dy ve er ny chassey liorish leighderys chamlaagagh as croutyn cham-chrontagh- Cronney ny oolee ren mee fockley-magh ayns goan feer arrymagh. | The Old Woman - They were indeed glorious times, but although your commands and laws were “a terror to evil works” Rom. XIII.3. still, there was no power at all in them without being spoken in my name. I argued the cases of the orphans (children without a father or mother) and the widows with the most forceful fluency — and on the seat of judgement where I always sat to arrange the affairs of the public, I always adhered to the side of love and a spirit of charity —neither did I suffer for any witness to be punished by a crooked legality and crooked technical tricks — I pronounced the fate of the guilty in very solemn words. | |
| Yn Cheeyl ren mee dy kinjagh y haaghey as hie mee marish sleih chrauee dys padjer as arraneyn-voyllee dys y Chiarn, as ren ny sharmaneyn aym singeil dy dowin ayns creeaghyn y phobble. Hie mee myrgeddin marish ny deiney aegey dy yeeaghyn son mraane-heshee as tra v’ad er reih ad, hie mee maroo dys y phoosey. Liorish yn choyrle aym, ren ad cummal cooidjagh ayns shee as gerjagh agh ah-treih ta ny laghyn eunyssagh shen ersooyl son dy bragh. | I always attended church and I sat down with religious people to prayer and hymns to the Lord, and my sermons sang deeply in the hearts of the people. I went too with the young men to look for wives, and when they had chosen them I went with them to the marriage. By my advice, they lived together in peace and comfort but alas those delightful days have gone forever. | |
| Mannanan-beg-Mac y-Leirr. — Voish yn taggloo ayd’s my Henn Ven Ghailckagh — ta mee cur my-ner dy vel yn seaghyn as yn voirey ain er ve co-laik ; s’yindyssagh ny caaghlaaghyn ta jeant ’syn Ellan ain chammah ayns ny cliaghtaghyn ain, nyn lheighaghyn as ymmyrkey nyn mea. Ta ny sleityn ain er ve creckit, ta shin ooilley fo-cheesh, ta ny thousaneyn jeh cheet stiagh yn Ellan ain oauluckit ’sy cheayn —ta oayshyn er jeet ny vud ain te'r chur mou ellen mie, lheid as oanraghyn-charkyllit bonnadyn fegooish cooyl ny mullagh as rollaghyn gheaysteenagh cast’ dy cheilley soit cooyl-ching ny mraane ain kiart goll-rish ruckyn hraagh[3]. | Mannanan-beg-Mac y-Leirr. — From your speech, my Old Gaelic Woman, I notice that our sorrows and trouble have been alike; How amazing the changes made in our Island and also in our customs, our laws and our ways of life. Our mountains have been sold, we are all subject to tax, thousands of the income of the Island is buried in the sea — there are habits that have come amongst us that have ruined good manners, such as hooped petticoats, bonnets without a back or a top and shaggy rolls twisted together set behind the heads of our women just like hayricks. | |
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[3] ruckyn hraagh—‘hayricks’. The Rev. J. T. Clarke often uses an eccentric system of lenition in his writing, ruckyn traagh would be normal here.
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| Agh ta’n cho-leayrtys dy tappee tayrn er-gerrey as er my lurgaghyn hroor-chassagh shegin dou troailt as goaill aaght ayns glione aalin Valure. | But the twilight is quickly drawing close and on my three-legged legs I must travel and take lodging in the beautiful glen of Ballure. | |
| Shen-y-fa, oie vie dy row lhiat as my vannaght ort dy braa—O my henn Ven. | Therefore, I wish you goodnight and my blessing upon you forever - O, my old woman. | |