| Manx | English | |
|---|---|---|
| Screeuyn Ass Doon Edjin | A Letter From Edinburgh | |
| TAMMYLT beg er dy henney hie mee roym my yiass lesh shilley er my charrey, Juan y Killip t'ec Prifysgol Genedlaethol Cymru — Ollooschoill Ashoonagh Vretyn — ayns Aberystwyth. | A little while ago I went South to visit my friend John Killip who is as The National University of Wales in Aberystwyth. | |
| She maddaght as Bretnish t'eh studeyraghey aynshen — ooilley trooid Bretnish, as t'eh cummal ayns halley raad she cliaghtey lesh ny studeyryn Bretnish y loayrt ass ry-cheilley car y traa. | Mathematics and Welsh he’s sudying there — all through Welsh, and he lives in a hall where it is a custom with the students to speak in Welsh to each other all the time. | |
| Tra va me[e] ayn[s shen] rish kione-chiaghtyn, cha row fockle erbee sy Vaarle ry chlashtyn, as ayns y valley hene, dy raghin stiagh ayns shapp erbee, ny dy meeitin rish peiagh ennagh er y traid, she Bretnish chluinnin hoshiaght roish red erbee elley. | When I was there for a weekend, there wasn’t a word in English to be heard, and in the town itself, if I were to go into any shop, or if I were to meet some person on the street, it’s Welsh I would hear first before anything else. | |
| ... She ynsaghey dy loayrt ass y Vretnish yn oyr va me ayns shen, as nagh gliaghtin Baarle erbee edyr, yeearr mee er Juan dy insh da ny caarjyn echey dy re Gaelg yn chied hengey v’ayms as nagh row monney Baarle ayms noadyr er yn oyr dy row mee ruggit boayl ennagh mast’ ny sleityn ayns Mannin. | ... Learning to speak in Welsh is the reason I was there, and so that I wouldn’t practice any English at all, I requested John to tell his friends that Manx was my first tongue and that I didn’t know much English either, because I was born somewhere amongst the mountians in the Isle of Man. | |
| Shen dinsh eh da e chaarjyn as chur eh enney ayms er e chaarjyn myr shen, as ghow eh ymmyd jeh m'ennym Gailckagh ayns ynnyd y lheid sy Vaarle. | That's what he told his friends and he introduced me to his friends like that, and he used my Gaelic name instead of such in English. | |
| Cha nel eh hene jannoo ymmyd jeh yn ennym goaldagh ersyn, as shione da ny caarjyn echeysyn eshyn myr Juan y Killip, ansherbee, shen yn aght ren shin shaghney chyndaa gy Baarle edyr, as dy beagh red ennagh 'sy Vretnish as mish gyn toiggal eh, hoilshagh eh magh sy Ghaelg eh dooys. | He himself isn’t using his British name, and his friends know him as Juan y Killip, anyway, that’s how we avoided changing to English at all, and if there were something in Welsh and I not understanding it, he explained it in Manx to me. | |
| Haink yindys mooar orrym fakin dy chreid e chaarjyn shen. | I was greatly amazed to see tht his friends believed that. | |
| ... Chum shin y cloie shoh goll gys hayrn y traa dou Aberystwyth y ’aagail. | ... We kept this play going until the time approached for me to leave Aberystwyth. | |
| Oie Jesarn roish my jagh mee ersooyl, va ceilidh goll er ayns thie-oast dy row heose sy valley, as hie shin roin lesh shilley er. | Saturday night before I went away, there was a ceileidh going on in a pub that was down in the town, and we went to visit it. | |
| Va shin fo chredjal[1] dy beagh y boayl lome-lane dy Vretnee, agh haink trimshey orrin feddyn magh dy by rouyr dy Hostnee va ’sy chooidjagh neesht. | We assumed that the place would be packed full of Welsh people, but we became sad to find out {??}[2] | |
|
[1] Va shin fo chredjal] meaning unclear, although evidently intended for such as ‘We were assuming’
[Va shin goaill orrin], ‘We were believing’
[Va shin credjal], ‘We were expecting’
[Va shin jerkal], or ‘We were hoping’
[Va shin treishteil].
[2] dy by rouyr dy Hostnee va ’sy chooidjagh neesht] Meaning here is obscure. Perhaps
[dy row eh lane Sostynee] ‘that is was full of English people’, or
[dy row rouyr dy Hostnee sy voayl ‘there were too many English people in the place’?
| ||
| Honnick shin paart dy chaarjyn Yuan ayn, as myr shen nagh lhig shin orrin dy noddin loayrt sy Vaarle, as traa erbee tagglooin[3] rish Sostnagh, veagh eh orrym geearree er Juan foast, dy chooilley red v’ad gra y hyndaa gy[s] Gaelg dooys. | We saw some of John’s friends there, and so we didn’t let on that we could speak in English, and any time I would speakin to an English man, I would have to ask John still, to translate everything they were saying to Manx for me. | |
|
[3] tagglooin] evidently intended for
[dy yinnin taggloo] ‘that I would speak’
| ||
| Ren dooinney ny ghaa ceau sooillyn quaagh orrym’s as adsyn fakin y lheid v’ayn. | Many men threw strange glances at me while they saw that there such a thing. | |
| ... Hooar Juan y Killip y Ghaelg echey, gollrhyme-pene, voish Breean MacStoyll, as ec y traa t'ayn she da shey ny shiaght dy gheiney Bretnagh t'eh gynsaghey dagh oie Jeheiney 'sy chamyr echey — ooilley trooid Bretnish. | ... John Killip learned Manx, like myself, from Brian Stowell, and at the moment it is to six or seven Welsh men that he’s teaching every Friday night in his room — all through Welsh. | |
| She red mie clashtyn Gaelg goll er loayrt sy Thalloo Vretnagh. | It’s a good thing hearing Manx being spoken in Wales. | |