| Manx | English | |
|---|---|---|
| EAN BOUYR | DEAF IAN | |
| SKEEAL VOISH ELLAN MUILE | A STORY FROM THE ISLE OF MULL | |
| Recorded from Alec MacDougall, Haun, Isle of Mull, July 1967 | ||
| Ren Ean Bouyr cummal ayns Chibbyr Woirrey (Tobermory). Mackinnon v’eh as v’eh ny hiaulteyr mie. | Deaf Ian lived in Mary’s Well (Tobermorey). He was a Mackinnon and he was a good sailor. | |
| Hie yn baatey echey stiagh ayns Purt Glasgoe yn oie shoh, as hooar yn skimmee er cheer son yn oie. | His boat went into Port Glasgow this night, and the crew got ashore for the night. | |
| Ren Ean as jees elley faagail y baatey cooidjagh as hie ad stiagh ayns thie oast as ghow ad toshiaght dy iu. | Ian and two others left the boat together and they went into the inn and they they started to drink. | |
| Haink jeih er y chlag as hrog ad orroo, adsyn va marish, agh cha row eshyn son goll er chor erbee, derrey veagh eh ceaut magh ass y thie oast. | Ten o’clock came and they got up, those who were with him, but he couldn't go at all, until he’d be thrown out of the inn. | |
| Cre haghyr, choud as v’eshyn ersooyl veih’n vaatey, haink baatey joarree stiagh as v’er y vaatey va Ean ayn dy scughey ass yn voayl v’eh ayn dy lhiggey ny joarreeyn stiagh, son va driss orroo dy gheddyn ersooyl, va’n oie feer sterrymagh. | What happened, whilst he was away from the boat, a foreign boat came in and the boat Ian was in had to shift from the place it was in to let the foreigners in, because they were in a rush to get away, the night was very stormy. | |
| Ansherbee, raink eh fy-yerrey raad va’n baatey echey er ve, as foast smooinaghtyn dy row eh e vaatey hene v’ayn, hooyl[1] eh er boayrd. | Anyway, he finally arrived where his boat had been, still thinking that it was his own boat there, he walked on board. | |
|
[1] hooyl]
[huill]
| ||
| Heeyn eh magh eh hene er carnane dy headdyn as huitt eh ny cadley. | He stretched himself out (lay down) on a heap of clothes and he fell asleep. | |
| Agh cre ren y baatey agh dy gholl lesh y cheayn[2] er yn oie as tra v’eh shaghey Meayl Chione Cheerey (the Mull of Kintyre), va brishey’n laa as va’n skimmee er y vaatey goll mygeayrt as hooar ad yn dooinney shoh ny cadley mastey ny teaddyn. | But what did the boat do but go to sea in the night and when it was past the Land’s End Headland (The Mull of Kintyre), there was daybreak and the team on the boat were going round and they found this man asleep amongst the ropes. | |
|
[2] dy gholl lesh y cheayn] ‘to go towards the sea’ but here the intended meaning is evidently ‘go to sea’.
| ||
| As hie ad dy akin y captan as dinsh ad da dy row dooinney er boayrd nagh lhisagh ve er boayrd. | And they went to see the captain and they told him that there was a man aboard who shouldn't have been aboard. | |
| “Aw well,” as y captan, “Cur eh ayns sack as ceau eh harrish boayrd.” | “Oh, well,” says the captain, “Put him in a sack and throw him overboard.” | |
| Hie ad er ash as ghooisht ad Ean Bouyr as dinsh ad da dy row oardaghyn oc veih’n chaptan dy chur eh ayns sack as dy cheau eh harrish boayrd. | They went back and they woke Deaf Ian and they told him that they had orders from the captain to put him in a sack and to throw him overboard. | |
| “Oh dy jarroo,” dooyrt Ean Bouyr, “Veagh shiu cha kenjal as dy chur mee ayns mullag?” | “Oh indeed,” said Deaf Ian, “Would you be so kind as to put me in a cask?” | |
| Hie ad er ash da’n chaptan reesht. Dooyrt ad rish, “Ta’n fer shen briaght son dy ve currit ayns mullag.” | They went back to the captain again. They said to him, “That fellow is asking to be put in a cask.” | |
| “Oh jean shen, ta palchey dy vullagyn folmey er boayrd — cur eh ayns mullag son shickyrys, agh bee-jee shickyr dy cheau eh magh harrish boayrd.” | “Oh do that, there’s plenty of empty casks onboard — put him in a cask for sure, but be sure to throw him our overboard.” | |
| Hie ad er ash, hug ad Ean Bouyr ’sy vullag, hrog ad seose ee, agh vrie eh jeu dy beagh ad cha kenjal as dy yannoo towl beg aynjee dy voddagh eh geddyn aer, as ren ad shen. | They went back, they put Deaf Ian in the cask, they picked him it up, but he asked them if they would be so king as to make a little hole in it so that he could get air, and they did that. | |
| As cheau ad magh y vullag ec Meayl Chione Cheerey, as va laa sterrymagh ayn. | And they threw the cask out at the Mull of Kintyre, and there was a stormy day. | |
| Well, laa ny vairagh[3] hie yn vullag er cheer ayns Eeley, as she traa yn vooir-hraie v’ayn tra hie ee er cheer, as va aggle er Ean dy jinnagh y gheay arraghey tra harragh yn roayrt, dy beagh eh goll magh reesht, as ghow eh toshiaght dy yannoo yn towl ny smoo, dy yannoo eh mooar lesh y skynn echey. | Well, the next day the cask came ashore in Islay, and it at the time of low-tide when he came ashore, and Ian was afraid that the wind would move (him?) when the incoming tide would come, (and) he would go out (to sea) again, and he started to make the hole bigger, to make it big with his knife. | |
|
[3] laa ny vairagh] text gives
[laa ny mairagh]
| ||
| Ren eh lheanaghey yn towl wheesh shen dy row eh abyl dy chur y laue echey magh ass choud’s yn geaylin. | He widened the hole so much that he was able to put his hand (arm) out as far as his shoulder. | |
| Cre v’ayns shen agh guilley beg bochillagh maase heose erskyn y voorey as va tarroo mastey’n ollagh. | What (Who) was there but a little boy herding cattle up above the beach and there was a bull amongst the cows. | |
| Cheayll yn tarroo y sheean heese ayns shen er y traie as haink eh neose, doolaney y vullag as goll mygeayrt eck. | The bull heard the sound down there on the shore and he came down, challenging the cask and going around it. | |
| Un jeh ny keayrtyn v’eh goll mygeayrt, hug Ean Bouyr magh e roih as ghow eh greim er yn famman echey as ersooyl lesh y tarroo! | One of the the times he was going around, Ian put out his arm and he got a hold of the its tail and the bull was away! | |
| As cha jinnagh Ean lhiggey yn raad da’n tarroo derrey v’eh shickyr dy row eh er mark y lane, eisht lhig eh yn raad da. | And Ian wouldn’t let the bull go until he was sure that he was on the highwater mark, then he let it go. | |
| Hie yn guilley roish cha tappee as yinnagh ny boynyn echey cur lesh eh, geamagh as keayney. | The boy went as fast as his heels would bring him, shouting and crying. | |
| Va thie yn Shirveishagh yn thie by niessey as ren eh lesh y thie shen as dinsh eh da’n Shirveishagh (The Minister) dy row cretoor agglagh cloh er y tarroo er y voorey as haink yn Shirveishagh magh ass y thie marish. | The Minister’s house was the closest house and he made towards that house and he told the minister that there was an fearful creature chasing away the bull on the beach and the Minster came out of the house with him. | |
| Riank ad heese ayns shen, hrog ad y vullag er e kione, doshil ad ee, as quoi v’ayns shid agh Ean Bouyr. | They arrived down there, they picked up the cask on it’s end, they opened it, and who was in there but Deaf Ian. | |
| Ny Shenn Vanninee as Chengey ny Mayrey | The Old Manx and the Mother Tongue (of the Isle of Man) | |
| Pic: Bnr. Cubbon as e ’neen, Thie y Wyllin, Colby, 1938. | Pic: Mrs. Cubbon and her daughter, The Mill House, Colby, 1938. | |
| Ta mooarane er ve scruit ayns y cholloo “Noon as Noal” mychione ny shenn Vanninee as Gailck oc, as ny keayrtyn caslysyn jeu, agh ta ymmodee studeyryn ny Gailck ec y traa t’ayn nish, gyn eie erbee oc er ambee-dooghyssagh nyn shenn ayraghyn. | A lot has been written in this “Noon as Noal” column about the old Manx and their Manx (language), and sometimes pictures of them, but there are many students of Manx at the present time with no idea about the native character of our ancestors. | |
| Myr dooyrt Mnr. J. D. Qualtrough bleeantyn er dy henney, v’ad bentyn da sheeloghe er-lheh as neu-chadjin as cha bee nyn lheid ny mast’ ain arragh. | Mr. J. D. Qualtrough said many years ago, they belonged to a special and unusual generation and their like will never be amongst us again. | |
| V’ad frioosagh as kiarailagh, gobbragh dy creoi as jeidagh; cha row rieau monney cooid-heihllt oc, agh v’ad booiagh son y veggan v’oc as arryltagh dy chooney lesh peiagh ennagh elley v’ayns seaghyn as dobberan, y ven hreoghe as ny treoghanyn erskyn ooilley. | They were cautious and careful, working hard and diligently; they never had much worldly wealth, but they were grateful for the very little they had, and willing to help someone else who was in sorrow and mourning, the widow and the orphans above all. | |
| V’ad kenjal, giastyllagh, oney as ynrick, as yn ayrn smoo jeu crauee as sheelt. | They were kind, charitable, innocent and honest, and the majority of them were religious and sober. | |
| Myr dooyrt Mark Braide roish nish, “V’ad dy firrinagh sollan y thallooin.” | As Mark Braide said before now, “they truly were the salt of the earth.” | |
| By vie lhiam y skeeal yindyssagh mychione Harry Kelly, scruit ec Mark Braide er y gherrit, as yiarrin ayns fockleyn Ned Maddrell, “T’eh jannoo foays da my chree,” lhaih lheid y coontey mie jeh shenn Vanninagh dooie. | I liked the wonderful story about Harry Kelly, written by Mark Braide recently, and I would say in Ned Maddrell’s words, “It benefits my heart” (“It lifts my spirits,”) reading such a good account of an old native Manxman. | |
| Cha row rieau enney ayms er Harry agh s’cooin lhiam shiartanse dy Vanninee doaieagh gollrish Harry, eer mannagh row y Gailck oc. | I never knew Harry but I remember several native Manx people like Harry, even if they didn’t know Manx. | |
| Er-lhiams dy row Mark Braide yn chied carrey ayms tra ghow mee toshiaght gynsagh y Ghailck, as va shin co-screeu rish y cheilley car bleeantyn y Chaggee eisht lurg shen va shin goll er y cheer ny keayrtyn dy chur shilley er ny shenn Vanninee dy gheddyn y Ghailck. | I think that Mark Braide was my first friend when I started learning Manx, and we were corresponding through the war years, then after that, we were going to the countryside sometimes to visit the old Manx people to learn Manx. | |
| Un laa hie shin ’sy carr-motor aym dy gheddyn Ned Maddrell as Benainshter Lowey, Kirkle, as ghow ad[4] gys y thie Mnr. As Bnr. Kinvig ec Ronague. | One day we went in my motor car to get Ned Maddrell and Mrs Lowey, Kirkle, and took them to the house of Mr and Mrs Kinvig at Ronague. | |
|
[4] ghow ad] ‘took them’ the usual idiom for ‘taking something from one place to another’, or for ‘bringing’ is
[cur lesh].
[hug mee lhiam ad] ‘I brought them’ would be expected here.
| ||
| Eisht hie mee ersooyl dys Kerrookeyl dy gheddyn Mnr. Thomase Leece, eisht va queig Manninee cooidjagh as Gailck oc, as cre’n tooilley dy Ghailck v’ayn! | Then I went away to Kerrookeeil to get Mr Thomas Leece, then there were five Manx people together who knew Manx, and what a flood of Manx there was! | |
| Va Mark as mee-hene geaishtagh ayns yindys rish y Ghailck cheet assdoo cho flahoil as dooghyssagh, as rish foddee daa oor s’goan va fockle dy Vaarle ry chlashtyn. | Mark and myself were listening in wonder to the Manx coming from them, so fluent and natural, and for maybe two hours there was hardly a word of English to be heard. | |
| O, dy beagh “cassette recorder” er ve marin yn laa shen! | Oh, if only a cassette recorder had with with us that day! | |
| Va ny queig jeu ainjyssagh rish y cheilley agh cha row ad er veeiteil rish ymmodee bleeantyn as cre’n boggey v’ad goaill taggloo ayns chengey ny mayrey! | The five of them were acquainted with each other but they hadn’t met for many years and what a joy they were, talking in the mother tongue! | |
| Ga nagh row monney Gailck aym ec y traa shen, cha jeanym dy bragh jarrood y taitnys as yindys ghow mee yn laa shen, as cha nel mee jerkal rish clashtyn y lheid reesht arragh. | Although I didn’t know much Manx at that time, I will never forget the fun and wonder I had that day, and I don’t expect to hear the like again. | |
| S’treih lhiam nish nagh ren mee ceau moorane traa taggloo rish ny shenn vanninee, as s’doogh lhiam erskyn ooilley nagh ren mee screeu sheese ny skeealyn va inshit dou. | I regret now that I didn’t spend more time talking to the old Manx people, and I’m sorry above all that I didn’t write down the stories that were told to me. | |
| Rish bleeantyn va mee gynsagh y Ghailck ayns ny brastyllyn oie as jannoo ram obbyr elley cour Yn Cheshaght Ghailckagh. | For years I was learning Manx in the night classes and doing a lot of other work for Yn Çheshaght Ghailckagh. | |
| Va mee daa cheayrt ayns Beeal Ferishtey bentyn da’n aa-clou “Goodwin’s First lessons”, as daa cheayrt ayns Lherpuyl geddyn ny chied recoyrtyssyn ’sy Ghailck er y “Sound Mirror” currit er “discs”, eisht begin dou reaghey as kiartaghey yn stoo as clou son “Coraa Ghailckagh”, as “Conversational Manx” ayns 1953/4. | I was twice in Belfast concerning the re-print of “Goodwin’s First Lessons”, and twice in Liverpool getting the first recordings in Manx on the Sound Mirror put on discs, then I had to arrange and correct the material and print for “Coraa Ghailckagh”, and “Conversational Manx” in 1953/4. | |
| Ta mooarane er ve scruit ayns “Noon as Noal” mychione loayreyderyn ny Gailck agh ta skeealyn beggey aympene blaik lhiam ginsh diu. | A lot has been written in “Noon and Noal” about the Manx speakers but I myself have little stories I would like to tell you. | |
| Er hoh nan jeu:— | Here is one of them:— | |
| BENAINSTER ANNE CUBBON, THIE WYLLIN, GLEN ROAD, COLBY (1850 – 1949) | MRS. ANNE CUBBON, MILL HOUSE, GLEN ROAD, COLBY (1850 – 1949) | |
| Myr screeu mee roie, tra erbee va mee cheet noal gys yn Ellan va mee ronsaghey as briaght[5] son Manninee as Gailck oc, as v’eh inshit dou dy row palchey Gailck ec shenn ven ec “thie-y-wyllin” ayns Colby. | As I wrote before, anytime I was coming over to the Island I was researching and enquiring for Manx people who knew Manx, and it was told to me that an old woman at “the mill house” in Colby knew plenty of Manx. | |
|
[5] briaght] text gives
[briaghtyn]
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| Chelleeragh hie mee dy chur shilley urree, as hoar mee y dorrys foshlit, as dyllee mee ’sy Ghailck, “Vel peiagh erbee sthie?” | Right away, I went to visit her, and I found the door open, and I called out in Manx, “Is anyone in?” | |
| as haink shenn ven feer veg gys y dorrys, as tra dooyrt mee, Fastyr mie eu, crenaght ta shiu?” | and a very small old Manx woman came to the door, and when I said, “Good afternoon, how are you?” | |
| dreggyr ish, “Lane vie, trooid shiu stiagh as lhig dou cur enn ort.” | she answered, “Very well, come in and let me see who you are.” | |
| Va mee my yoarree j’ee, agh tra hooar ee magh my ennym as ennym m’ayrey, va enney eck er ymmodee jeh my chynney as mooinjer, as eisht va palchey ain dy haggloo mychione. | I was a stranger to her, but when she found out my name and the name of my father, she knew many of my kin and relatives, and then we had plenty to talk about. | |
| Ec y traa shen va carr-motor beg aym (Morris Minor 1934), as lurg tammylt vrie mee j’ee, “Blaik lhiat goll son thurrys er y cheer marym ayns y charr?” | At that time I had a little motorcar (a Morris Minor 1934), and after a while I asked her, “Would you like to go for an excursion to the countryside with me in the car?” | |
| Cha geayll mee fockle assjee, agh v’ee cheu-mooie ayns tullagh as lheim ee stiagh ayns y carr bunnys roish my row yn dorrys foshlit dy kiart! Nish v’ee mysh jeih bleeaney as kiare feed[6] ec y traa shen, agh v’ee cho skibbylt as tappee as ’neen aeg. | I didn’t hear a word from her, but she was outside in an instant and she jumped into the car almost before the door was quite open! Now she was about ninety years (old) at that time, but she was as agile and fast as a young girl. | |
|
[6] jeih bleeaney as kiare feed] —
[kiare feed blein as jeih] would be expected here.
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| Myr hroailt shin er y raad v’ee taggloo feer tappee[7] neesht, as ooilley ’sy Ghailck, agh cha ren mee tayrtyn yn derrey lieh jeh’n chabbaragh eck. | As we travelled on the way she was talking very fast too, and all in Manx, but I didn’t catch the half of her chatter. | |
|
[7] feer tappee] text gives
[feer happee]
| ||
| Ny-yeih, tra raink shin thie reesht v’ee ny s’kiuney as va cooish liauyr ain ’sy Ghailck. | Yet, when we arrived home again she was quieter and we had a long chat in Manx. | |
| Va’n dooinney eck ny wyllar as v’ee loayrt mychione yn obbyr echey as ny eirinee cur lhieu arroo gys y wyllin, as y lheid. | Her husband was a miller and she was talking about his and the farmers’ work bringing corn to the mill, and such. | |
| V’ee mie-ynsit ayns chengey ny mayrey as b’laik lh’ee lhaih voish y Vible Ghailckagh er my hon, dy jarroo, roish hooar ee baase hug ee y Vible dou myr toytys ayns cooinaghtyn j’ee, agh ghow mee tastey nagh row yn ennym Cubbon ayns y lioar agh ny fockleyn shoh ayns Baarle, “Toyrtys veih yn schoill-doonee Haasilagh Valley Veg gys Marget Lawson 1860.” | She was well-versed in the mother tongue (of the Isle of Man) and she liked reading from the Manx Bible for me, indeed, before she died she gave the Bible to me as a gift in her memory, but I noticed that the name Cubbon wasn’t in the book, but these words in English, “A gift from the Ballabeg Methodist Sunday-School to Margaret Lawson 1860.” | |
| Va’n Ghailck eck feer vie, agh myr hie ny bleeantyn shaghey va’n cooinaghtyn eck failleil, as v’ee beggan fud-e-cheilley ny keayrtyn. | Her Manx was very good, but as the years went past her memory was failing, and she was a little confused sometimes. | |
| V’ee bunnys keead blein[8] dy eash tra hooar ee baase, as ta mee cooinaghtyn urree dagh keayrt ta mee goll shaghey y thie wyllin ayns shoh. | She was almost a hundred years old when she died, and I remember her every time I go past the mill house here. | |
|
[8] keead blein] text gives
[keead vlein].
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