| Manx | English | |
|---|---|---|
| Normalised Version. (RT) | Translation (RT) - based as closely as possible, on ‘The Lost Son” in ‘The Rural Repository’. Hudson. N.Y., January 28th, 1837. P1. | |
| Skeeal yn Lhiannoo Caillit çhyndaayt gys Gaelg çhengey | The Tale of the Lost Child translated into Manx, the mother | |
| ny Mayrey Ellan Vannin liorish E Faragher. Cre’neash. | tongue of the Isle of Man, by E Faragher. Cregneash. | |
| Va Theodora ben treogh eeasteyr boght cummal ayns thie beg fuygh ayns boayl fadane ayns y cheyll rish lhattiee yn awin Danube. V’ee er choayl e sheshey ayns blaa e eash, tra gerrid roish shen, as ooilley yn gerjagh v’eck ayns y stayd treogh va lhiannoo mac beg, feer aalin, enmyssit Augustus, mysh quieg bleeaney dy eash. | Theodora was the widow of a poor fisherman, who lived in a lonely wooden cabin in the woods beside the Danube. She had lost her husband in the flower of his age, a short while before. And her little, beautiful, son called Augustus, about five hears of age, was all the consolation she had in her widowhood. | |
| V’eh ooilley yn imnea eck, dy hroggal eh seose onnoragh, as cairagh, as ayns tushtey dy Yee. As v’ee yeearree dy beagh ee son freayl da thie e ayr as ny greienyn eeastee. | It was all her worry to raise him to be honourably and fair; and fair, and knowing of God. And she was wanting to be able to keep his father’s house for him, and the fishing equipment. | |
| Lurg baase e sheshey cha row yn eeastagh er ve cummit seose, va’n lieen croghit seose ayns yn voal, as yn baatey ayns boayl elley lesh e veeayl fo-ee, er gerrey da’n thie, veagh dy mennick oyr jeh lane seaghyn jee. | After the death of her partner the fishing hadn’t been kept up, the line was hung up in the wall, and the boat in another place with its face down, close to the house, would often be a cause of much sorrow to her. | |
| V’ee cosney paart dy argid lesh jannoo seose lieen da ny eeasteyryn, son vee feer aghtal ayns yn obbyr shen. As dy mennick tra veagh Augustus ny chadley veagh brishey yn laa geddyn ee foast er e cassyn as laboragh dy croie. | She was earning some money by making up netting for the fishermen, for she was very skillful in that work. And often, when Augustus would be asleep, the break of day would be finding her still on her feet and working hard. | |
| Cha row ec yn lhannoo agh un yeerree; dy ve gerjagh as taitnys da e Voir vie. V’ee shilley jeir dy chooilley hraa veagh red erbee coyrt ee er yn aght echey hene. | The child had only one desire; to be a comfort and pleasure for his good mother. She would be crying every time anything would remind her of himself (her husband). | |
| Un laa haink braar yn ven treogh va ny eeasteyr cummal ayns balley beg, ayns yn nabooys, lesh eeast feer vie huic. Ren Theodora jeeaghyn er as goaill toishaght dy cheayney. “Aless,” dooyrt ee, cha row mish jerkal dy akin lheid yn eeast aalin reesht fo my chlea. Eisht dooyrt Augustus “ny jean shiu keayney Voir. “Tra neem’s gaase seose nee’m cur lesh ymmodee jeh’n lheid hiu.” | One day the widow’s brother, who was a fisherman living in a small town in the neighbourhood, came to her with a very fine fish. Theodora looked at it and started to weep. “Alas,” she said, I wasn’t expecting to see such a beautiful fish again under my roof. Then Augustus said “Don’t cry Mother. When I grow up I’ll bring many like this to you.” | |
| Va’n Voir seaghnit er ny gherjaghey lesh shen. “Nee Augustus.” dooyrt ee. Ta mee jerkal dy bee oo laa ennagh son gerjagh as cooney dou, ayns my henn eash. Bee cha mie as cha dunnal as cha crauee yn dooinney as va dty Ayr, eisht nee’m coontey meehene yn Voir s’maynrey jeh Moiraghyn.” | The sorrowful mother was comforted by that. “Yes, you will, Augustus.” she said. “I expect that someday you will be able to be a comfort and help to me, in my old age. Be as good and as brave and as religious a man as your father was, then I will reckon myself the happiest mother of mothers.” | |
| Er laa elley, va ayns imbagh aalin yn ouyr, v’eh feer çheh as grainagh. Va Theodora er ve gobbragh er lieen rieau neayr’s haink soilshey yn laa. V’ee yeearree dy gheddyn eh aarloo yn laa shen. | On another day, that was in the beautiful season of autumn, it was very warm and sunny. Theodora had been working on a net ever since the light of day. She was wanting to get it ready that day. | |
| Va Augustus, son yn ayrn echeysyn, çhaglym banglaneyn çhirrym ayns yn cheyll. V’eh lane taitnys daa dy chooilley cheayrt ve çheet lesh lane e vastag veg dy vanglaneyn gys e voir. Va Theodora feer vaynrey dy akin dy row eh gynsagh dy laboragh ayns e aegid as dy ve tarroogh ayns e obbyr. | Augustus, for his part, was gathering dry branches in the forest. It was always great fun for him to be coming to his mother with his little basket full of branches. Theodora was very happy to see that he was learning to work in his youth and to be industrious in his work. | |
| Va traa-jinnairagh er-gerrey as va’n guilley beg skee, as accryssagh. Va’n chlag ry-clashtyn bwoalley ayns yn valley. As ren Theodora geamagh er dy ee e yinnair, fo billey mooar beech va gaase er-gerrey da’n thie oc ayns boayl ghrianagh aallin, ayns yn cheyll. V’ee er chur lesh gys shen yn beaghey son nyn jinnair. Va lane saagh dy vainney, as paart dy vrooillagh arran er ny vrishey ayn. Tra va’n saagh follym dooyrt ee rish Augustus, “Nish, gow as lhie sheesh as caddil red beg, fo scaa yn villey shoh. Er my hon hene hem er gys my obbyr reesht, as kione tammylt beg hem’s dy ghoostey oo.” | Dinnertime was soon and the little boy was tired, and hungry. The clock was audible, ringing in the town, and Thoedora called him to eat his dinner, under a big beech tree that was growing near to their house in a beautiful sunny spot, in the forest. She had brought the food for their dinner. There was a full bowl of milk, and some breadcrumbs broken into it. When the bowl was empty she said to Augustus; “Now, go and lie down and sleep a bit, under the shade of this tree. As for me, I’ll go on back to my work, and in a little while I’ll go to wake you.” | |
| Ayns kione ooir ny jees hie dy cur shilley er, as v’eh ny lhie ny chadley fo yn villey; va’n kione beg lesh folt bwee er ny lhie er unnane jeh e roieghyn. As va duillagyn craa yn billey, ceau scaadoo er e eddyn as e lieckanyn jiargey. | After an hour or two she went to check him, and he was lying asleep under the tree; the little head with blond hair on it was lying on one of his arms, and leaves were shaking the tree, throwing a shadow on his face and his red cheeks. | |
| Ren Theodora siyr gys e hobbyr er yn lieen reesht, as ren ee gobbragh er gys v’sh aarloo. Va’n traa er gholl shaghey gyn ys jee, as ghow ee tastey dy row eh foddey er yn fastyr. Hie ee dy ghoostey Augustus. Agh cha row eh ry-gheddyn fo’n villey. Ta’n lhiannoo mie ersooyl gys e obbyr reesht lesh y vastag.” Dooyrt ee lesh boggey. Aless, v’ee foddey voish smooinaghtyn cre’n lhag-haghyrt va er n’irree. Hie ee gys y thie, eisht haink ee reesht dy skeaylley yn lieen er yn faiyr, lurg tammylt dy hraa cha row yn lhiannoo er jeet. Ghow ee toshiaght dy ghoaill aggle dy row red ennagh er daghyrt da. As ren ee soieagh magh dy ronsagh yn cheyll. Va mysh three meeilley er luirid as mysh lieh cha lhean. | Theodora hurried back to her work on the net and she worked on it until it was ready. The time had passed without her realising, and she noticed that she it was late in the afternoon. She went to wake Augustus. But he wasn’t to be found under the tree. “The good child is gone to his work again with the basket.” she said with joy. Unfortunately, she was far from thinking what accident had arisen. She went to the house, then she came back to spread the net on the grass. After a spell of time, the child hadn’t come. She started to fear that something had happened to him, and she set out to search the forest, that was three miles in length and about half as wide. | |
| “Augustus! Augustus!” v’ee geamagh, agh cha row coraa erbee coyrt ansoor jee. | “Augustus! Augustus!” she was calling, but no voice at all gave her an answer. | |
| Ghow ee toshiaght eisht dy ve ayns aggle mooar. “Vod eh er duittym ayns yn ushtey?” dooyrt ee ree hene. Ren yn smooinaght shen cur creau ayns yn uill eck. Ren ee ronsagh rish lhiattee yn awin. Agh cha voddagh ee gheddyn cowrey erbee jeh e mac. Ren ee keayney dy sharroo, eisht ren ee roie gys yn valley as ren ee çhaglym shartanse jeh ny cummaltee mygeayrt-y-mooee. V’ad ooilley goaill ayrn ayns yn seaghyn eck, as va e braar cha trimshagh ree hene, ny-yeih cha ren unnane erbee fakin yn lhiannoo. Agh ghow ad ooilley orroo dy gholl maree dy ronsagh y keyll. Ren paart jeu skeaylley ad hene ayns y cheyll, paart elley ayns yn nabooys, as yn chooid elley gys lhiattee yn awin. Agh cha ren unnane jeu geddyn briaght erbee er yn lhiannoo. | She began then to be greatly afraid. “Could he have fallen in the water?” she said to herself. That thought made in her blood tremble. She searched along the side of the river, but she couldn't find any sign of her son, She cried bitterly, then she ran to the town and she gathered some of inhabitants around her. They were all sharing in her sorrow, and her brother was as sad as she was, yet, no one at all saw the child. But they all took it upon themselves to go with her to search the forest. Some of them spread themselves out in the forest, some others in the neighbourhood, and the rest to the side of the river, but not one of them found any sign of the child. | |
| “My t’eh baiht ayns yn Danube,” dooyrt shenn eeasteyr jeh’n valley, “Nee mayd geddyn yn corp echey son ta fys ain cre’n raad ta’n strooan roie. Bee eh dy shickyr er ny cheau seose heese ayns shen raad ta’n shenn villey sheillagh gaase. | “If he is drowned in the Danube,” said an old fisherman from the village, “we will find his body, because we know which way the current runs. He will certainly be thrown up down there where the old willow tree is growing. | |
| Va’n Voir voght clashtyn ooilley ny goan oc. As hie ee gys e cummal lesh cree brisht. Ren ee ceau yn oie freayl arrey as keayney, as cha leah as ren yn laa brishey, ren ee siyr gys yn awin ayns jerkal dy voddagh ee geddyn yn corp echey ayns shen; yn mac beg v’ee cha graihagh er. | The poor mother was hearing all their words, and went to her dwelling with a broken heart. She spent the night keeping watch and weeping, and as soon as day broke, she hurried to the river in hope that she could find his body there; the little son she loved so much. | |
| Hie laghyn as shiaghtinyn shaghey, agh fastyr as moghrey ren ee roie keayney gys lhiattee yn awin, agh dagh keayrt ayns fardail. Veagh ny eesateyryn, tra veagh ad goll ayns yn voghree as çheet thie ayns yn astyr, fakin ee ayns yn un voayl; keayney, lesh e laueyn troggit seose lesh Niau. V’ee brisht ayns cree. She myr shoh ren bleintyn goll shaghey, agh cha row yn corp echey geddynit. As cha voddagh yn Voir seaghnit geddyn faaue erbee cre v’er haghyrt da e mac boght. Cha voddym ginsh cre wheesh as va’n seaghyn eck. “Ayns tra cha gerrid,” veagh ee gra, “dy choayl my heshey graihagh as my vac deyr. T’eh feer croie dy ymmyrkey eh. Ta mee credjal dy jinnin geddyn baase fo’n laaid, er-be dy vel yn gerjagh aym dy vel Niau jannoo dy chooilley nhee son y chooid share.” | Days and weeks went past, but evening and morning she ran crying to the side of the river, but each time in vain. The fishermen, when they would be there in the morning and coming home in the evening, would see her in the same place; crying, with her hands raised up to heaven. She was broken in heart. Years passed like this, but his body wasn’t found. And the sorrowful mother couldn’t find any hint of what had happened to her poor son. I cannot say how much sorrow she had. “In such a short time,” she would say, “to lose my loving huband and my precious son. It is very hard to bear it. I believe that I would die under the load, where it not for my consolation that heaven makes everything for the best.” | |
| Veagh ee dy mennick geddyn foill as goltooan ee hene, dy sharroo, er yn oyr “nagh ren ee freayl arrey smoo harrish”, veagh ee gra, keayney as faastey y laueyn. | She would often find fault and reproaching herself, bitterly, because she “hadn’t kept more watch over him”, she would be saying, crying and wringing her hands. | |
| Skeeal yn Lhiannoo Caillit, Cabdil 2. | The Tale of the Lost Child, Chapter 2. | |
| Choud as va e voir ny lomarcan ayns seaghyn son baase e mac va eshyn queig bleeaney as ghaa ny three dy veeghyn dy eash, va er roshtyn, lurg da v’eh er droailt ny smoo na (erskyn) three keead meeilley, gys ard-valley Vienna, as v’eh cummal ayns shen dy sauçhey, ayns thie mooar feer aalin, as v’eh myrgeddin coamrit feer stoamey, myr dy beagh eh er ve ruggit jeh lughtthie (sliught) ooasle. As ny va ny share na ooilley, ve er ny hroggal dy kiarailagh, as er ny ynsaghey liorish ny hard-vainshteryn dy ve aghtal ayns dellal as ayns dy chooilley ayrn dy ve ny ghooinney seyr. | Whilst his mother was alone in sorrow for the death of her son who was five years and two or three months of age, (he) had reached after he had travelled more than three hundred miles, to the city of Vienna, and he was living there safely, in a very beautiful big house, and also dressed very smartly, as if he had been born to a noble family. And what was best of all, he was raised carefully, and taught, by the headmasters, to be capable in business and in every way to be a gentleman. | |
| Va’n caghlaa mooar shoh ayns y vea currit lesh mygeayrt, er yn aght shoh: | This great change in his life was brought about like this: | |
| Tra ren Augustus, ren shin faigail ny chadley fo’n villey, doostey, ren e rubbey e hooillyn, as goll dy haglym banglaneyn (brasnagyn) çhirrym ayns yn cheyll reesht. V’eh, ayns traa gerrid, er lheh, lienney y vastag, as v’eh er gholl trooid yn cheyll, gys haink eh gys broogh yn awin. Hooar eh ayns shen lhong mooar er ny chiangley gys ny biljyn v’er broogh ny awin, farkiagh gys yinnagh yn ushtey troggal ee reesht as choud as va’n sleih va shiaulley aynjee shooyl mygeayrt er yn faiyr, dy chur nyn gassyn ayns use er yn oyr dy row ad skee ny hoie ayns yn lhong. As va’d shooyl er yn thalloo er broogh yn awin as va paart jiu ny hoie er yn faiyr, rish lhattie yn awin), as va paart dy phaitçhyn maroo myrgheddin, cloie mygeayrt. Honnick ad Augustus as hayrn ad er-gerrey da, as jeeaghyn dy geyre er ny va echey ayns e vastag. Mess bwaagh dhone yn villey beech va paart echey ayns yn vastag, as cha row ny paitçhyn rieau er vakin veg jeh’n lheid ayns nyn mea roie, as ghow ad lane taitnys ayn. | When Augustus, who we left asleep under the tree, awoke, he rubbed his eyes, and went to gather dry branches (kindling), in the forest again. He was, in a short time, by himself, filling the basket, and he had gone through the forest, until he came to the side of the river. There he found a big ship tied to the trees that were on the river bank, waiting until the ushtey would raise her again, and whilst the people who were sailing in her were walking around on the grass, to stretch their legs because they bored sitting in the boat, and they were walking ashore on the river bank, and some of them were seated on the grass, beside the river, and there were some children with them too, playing around. They saw Augustus and they drew near to him, and looked keenly at what he had in his basket. Some fine brown beech tree fruit was what he had in the basket, and the children had never seen anything of the sort before in their lives before, and they liked it a lot. | |
| “Ta shen mess feer waagh,” dooyrt inneen veg, va jeeaghyn dy ve ny saa na Augustus. | “That is a very pretty fruit,” said a little girl who seemed to be younger than Augustus. | |
| Dooyrt yn chooid elley, “Cha ren shin rieau fakin lheid ny nutyn roie”. | The others said, “We have never seen such chestnuts before.” | |
| “Cha nee chessnutyn ad,” doyrt Augustus, agh mess yn villey beech, as cha vel ad cooie son beaghey. Esht ren e cur paart da dagh unnane jiu, as va Augustus feer vaynrey dy gheddyn eh hene fud wheesh dy phaitçhyn boggysagh, v’eh maynrys nagh row eh er ennaghtyn ayns ooilley e vea, son cha row e er vakin agh feer veg jeh paitçhyn yn valley raad v’eh cummal marish e voir. | “They aren’t chestnuts,” said Augustus, ‘they’re beech tree fruit, and they aren’t suitable to eat. Then he gave some to each one of them, and Augustus was very happy to find himself amongst so many joyful children, it was a happiness he had never felt in all his life, for he had only seen very little of the children of the town where he lived with his mother. | |
| Ren e goll ny vud oc as chur adsyn da paart jeh ny messyn mie v’oc hene. V’eh eisht yeearree dy gheddyn shilley jeh’n lhong, son cha row eh rieau er vakin nane wheesh goll shaghey thie e voir. V’eh red feer yindyssagh da dy akin thie-shiaullee va ny smoo na thie e voir. Ren ny paitçhyn goaill eh er-boayrd, as yn inneen veg ren cur tastey hoshiaght da mess yn villey beech, Antonia va’n ennym ec, chur ee lesh eh gys yn chabbane as ren eh jeeaghyn mygeayrt y mysh as gra “Ta ny shamyryn shoh ny s’aalin na ny shamyryn t’ayns thie my voir.” | He went amongst them and they gave him some of the good fruit they themselves had. He was then wanting to have a look at the ship, because he had never seen one as big going past his mother’s house. It was a really amazing thing for him to see a house-boat that was bigger than the house in the forest. The children took him on board, and the little girl who first noticed the beech fruit, Antonia was her name, she brought him to the cabin and he looked around about and said “These rooms are more beautiful than the rooms that are in my mother’s house!” | |
| Ren Antonia as e cumraagyn jeeaghyn ny gaihyn oc da. As va Augustus cha goit seose ayndoo nagh ren eh rieau smooinaghtyn er goll thie gys e voir, ooilley yn traa shoh. As rosh va toiggal echey jeh va’n lhong er droggal as ec shiaulley reesht, dy feer tappee goll sheese yn awin. | Anotonia and her companions showed him their toys, and Augustus was so distracted by them that he never thought about going home to his mother all this time, and before he realised it the ship has risen and was sailing again, very quickly, going down the river. | |
| Cha ren unnane er boayrd yn lhong goaill tastey erbee jeh’n yuilley beg. Adsyn va er ve shiaulley aynjee voish yn toshiaght va smooinaght dy re paart elley dy sleih va er jeet er-boayrd as dy row yn lhannoo maroosyn, myr shen cha row geill er chur da. Ayns yn fastyr ny yeih, ghow Augustus toshiaght dy cheayney as dy eamagh son e voir. As eisht hooar ad magh dy row lhiannoo-joarree er boayrd. Fod mayd smooinaght cre’n yindys as arganey ren yn eamagh echey jannoo fud sheshaght yn lhong. | No one on board the ship took any notice of the little boy. Those who had been sailing in her from the beginning were thinking that there were some other people who had come aboard and that the boy was with them, so there was no attention paid to him. In the evening though, Augustus started to cry and to call for his mother, and then they found out that a stranger-child was on board. We can consider what astonishment and arguing his shouting made amongst the crew of the ship. | |
| Va paart jeu goaill çhymmey jeh, as seaghnyt son e voir. Paart elley va garraghtee er yn aght yindyssagh v’eh er jeet er boayrd, agh va ny shiaulteyryn feer fargagh. V’ad goll dy cheau yn lhiannoo harrish boayrd ayns yn awin. Ec y jerrey, haink mainshter yn lhong as chur eh lesh yn lhiannoo gys yn derrey çheu as loayr eh rish ayns farg, gra “Insh dou lhiannoo, cre’n balley ny boayl çheeragh t’ou er jeet veih?” | Some of them took pity on him and were sorry for his mother, some others were laughing at the amzing way he came aboard, but the sailors were very angry. They were going to throw the child overboard into the river. In the end the master of the ship came he took the child to one side and spoke to him angrily, saying “Tell me child, what village or country place have you come from?” | |
| “Cha vel mee voish balley erbee,” dooyrt Augustus. | “I’m not from any village,” said Augustus. | |
| “Ta shen yindyssagh!” dooyrt yn shiolteyr, “Shegin dhyt er ve cummal ayns boayl ennagh!” | “That’s amazing!” said the sailor, “You must have been living somewhere!” | |
| “Ta’n thie ain,” dooyrt y lhiannoo, “ayns yn cheyll, cha nel eh foddey voish yn valley.” | “In our house,” said the boy, “in the forest. It isn’t far from the town.” | |
| “Feer vie,” dooyrt yn mainshter, “agh cre’n ennyn t’er yn valley?” | “Very well,” said the master, “but what is the name of the town?” | |
| “Ah,” dooyrt Augustus, “ta’n balley enmyssit ‘yn balley’. Cha row my voir gyllagh eh red erbee elley. T’eh bwoalley munlaa ayns yn valley, dy chionnagh paart dy arran.” | “Ah,” said Augustus, the town is called ‘the town’. My mother disin’t call it anything else. It strikes midday in the town, to buy some bread.” | |
| “Agh cre’n ennym ta er dty Ayr as dty voir ?” dooyrt yn mainshter. | “But what are the name of your parents?” said the master. | |
| “Ta my Ayr marroo,” dooyrt Augustus, “as ta’d dy mennick gyllagh my voir ‘Theodora yn ven eeasteyr voght’. | “My father is dead,” said Augustus, “and they often call my mother Theodora the poor fisherman’s wife. | |
| Eisht ta’n ennyn bashtee eck Theodora,” dooyrt y Mainshter, agh cre ta’n sliennoo eck. | “Then, her christian name is Theodora,” said the master, “but what is her surname?” | |
| “Cha vel ennym erbee elley eck agh Theodora,” dooyrt y lhiannoo, “as t’ee dy mennick gra nagh lhisagh shin cur ennym elley da sleih, son dy vel shen far-ennym.” | “She has no other name than Theodora,” said the child, “and she often says that we shouldn’t give other names to people, because that’s a nickname.” | |
| Honnick yn Mainshter eisht dy row eh ayns fardail dy streeu dy gheddyn toiggal erbee voish yn lhiannoo nagh row fys echey c’red va’n sliennoo echey hene. Ren yn Mainshter gaase jiarg lesh eulys gra “Bare lhiam dy beagh yn chooag er choyrt lesh oo boayl erbee elley agh er boayrd yn lhong shoh!” | The master saw then that it was useless to try to find any comprehension from the child, that he didn't know what his own surname was. The master grew red with rage saying “I’d rather the cuckoo had taken you anywhere else but on board this ship!” | |
| Va ny jeir er lieeney sooillyn yn lhiannoo boght “My ren yn chooag cur lesh mee gys shoh, cha ren mee rieau fakin ee, agh ta mee er chlashtyn ee ayns yn niarragh.” | The tears were filling the eyes of the poor child; “If the cuckoo brought me here, I never saw her, but I’ve heard her in the Spring.” | |
| Ren ad ooilley garraghtee er yn ansoor shen, agh va ny shiolteyryn ayns doillidys mooar son v’ad ec y traa shen er ayrn jeh’n Danube nagh row cummaltee erbee ayn, agh ooilley ny cheyll raad va’d feer foddey veih cummalyn sleih, as cha row balley erbee jeeaghyn dy ve er-gerrey daue. Lurg tammylt dy hraa, tra va’n ghrian mysh goll sheese, honnick ad toor-keeill foddey sheese er broogh yn awin. Va’n Mainshter kiarit dy ghoaill yn lhiannoo gys shen dy voddagh eh voish ve currit thie gys y Voir. | They all laughed at that answer, but the sailors were in great difficulty because they were then at a part of the Danube where there weren’t any inhabitants, but all a forest where they were very far from the dwellings of people, and no settlement seemed to be near to them. After a bit of time, when the sun was going down, they saw a church tower far down on the river bank. The master was minded to take take the child there so that he could from there be sent home to his mother. | |
| Agh va dooinney seyr er boayrd; ayr yn inneen veg Antonia. Ren eh shassoo noi’n Vainshter. V’eh marçhan feer verçhagh, va echey e-rboayrd kishtaghyn lane airh as argid, marish ymmodee cooidyn costal elley. Va eshyn, myr yn chooid elley jeh’n çheshaght, çhea voish yn chaggey as nyn noidyn, son va Germany ec y traa shen caggey ayns caghlaaghyn boayl. “Ta mee yeearree lesh ooilley my chree,” dooyrt yn dooinney seyr, Monsieur Wahl va’d gyllagh da, “dy beagh yn guilley beg ec yn thie ec e voir seaghnit reesht, agh cha vel shen red foddee mayd jannoo. Ta nyn noidyn çheet er nyn doshiaght as tayrn er-gerrey gys broogh yn awin, dy lhiggey shagey son oor ny jees, foddee ad ve orrin as foddee mayd coayl ooilley nyn gooid. Ayns ennym Yee, gow shiu er nyn doshiaght!” | However, there was a gentleman on board; the father of the little girl Anotonia. He opposed the master. He was a very wealthy merchant, he had chests on board full of gold and silver, with many other expensive things. He, like the rest of the crew, was fleeing from the war and their enemies, because Germany was, at that time, fighting in many places. “I desire with all my heart,” said the gentleman, Monsieur Val they called him, “that the little boy could be back at his saddened mother’s house, but that isn’t something we can do. Our enemies are advancing and drawing close to the bank of the river, to hang around for an our or two, they will be able to be upon us and we might lose all our goods. In God’s name, get going!” | |
| Va Monsieur Wahll fer imneagh son dy row wheesh dy verchys echey er boayrd yn lhong. Ghow eh ayns laue dy chur er ny shiolteyryn dy gholl er nyn doshiaght fud ny hoie dy voddagh ad goaill soylley jeh soilshey yn neayst, agh ren ad gobbal er yn oyr nagh row eh yn chliaghtey oc dy hiaulley syn oie. Agh ren Monsieur Wahll ghialdyn da’n Vainshter as ny shiolteyryn kuse dy argid as ren ad lhiggey lesh as goaill er yn raaid. | Monsieur Val was very worried because he had so much wealth on board the ship. He decided to make the sailors go on through the night so that they could enjoy the light of the moon, but they refused because it wasn’t their custom to sail at night. But Monsieur Val promised the master and the sailors a bit of money and they complied and went on went on their way. | |
| Tra ren yn ghrian girree v’ad er gerrey da ballley beg er broogh yn awin as ren yn mainshter yeearree er yn sleih boght va cummal ayn dy ghoaill yn lhiannoo, vrie eh ad dy yeeaghyn son e voir, as dy choyrt yn lhiannoo huic reesht, dy beagh ad jannoo thurn mie as giastylys vooar. Agh dooyrt ny cummaltee nagh row fys oc quoi lesh va’n lhannoo, foddee eh ve neu-phossible dy gheddyn magh quoi gys dy choyrt eh, as eisht veagh ain hene dy hroggal eh as dy ghoaill kiarail jeh, as myr ta ny traaghyn nish ta dy liooar ain dy ymmyrkey nyn drimshey hene fegooish goaill seaghyn sleih elley. | When the sun rose they were close to a small town on the river bank and the master begged the poor people who lived in it to take the child. He asked them to look for his mother, and to bring the child back to her, that they would be doing a good turn, and a great charitable thing. But the inhabitants said that they didn’t know the child belonged to, it might be impossible to find out who to take him to, and then we would have to raise him and take care of him, and, as it is in present times it is enough for us to bear our own sadness, without taking other peoples’ sorrows. | |
| Ayns tra gerrid ny lurg shen ren ad fakin balley er çheu elley yn awin nagh row foddey veih yn vroogh as v’eh jeeaghyn dy ve mooar as berçhagh. Va’n Mainshter kiarit dy gholl er thalloo gys yn Briw ny yn Saggyrt, as dy vreagey fer jeu dy ghoaill yn lhiannoo ayns nyn giarail. Ren e gordrail yn lhong dy ve stappit as ve mysh gholl er thalloo tra ren Monsieur Wahll gra “Clasht-jee. Vel shiu clashtyn sheean ny gunnaghyn mooarey? Ta ny noidyn er-gerrey dooin. Cha nhegin dooin cumrail ny lhiggey shaghey. Ghow shiu er nyn doshiaght lesh yn lhong!” | A short while after that they saw a town on the other side of the river that wasn’t very far from the riverbank and it seemed to be large and wealthy. The master was minded to go ashore to the judge or the priest, and to persuade (coax) one of them to take the child into their care. He ordered the ship to be stopped and he was about to go ashore, when Monsieur Val said ‘Harken! Do you hear the sound of artillery? The enemies are close to us. We must not delay or hang around. Get going with the ship.” | |
| Va’n Mainshter ayns aggle dy beagh yn lhiannoo faagit er hene. Ec y jerrey ren eh gobbal dy gholl er e hoshiaght. Ayns tra gerrid va streeu eddyr Monsieur as yn mainshter, va’d aarloo dy huittym magh agh haink ben vie Monsieur Wahll er-gerrey as dooyrt ee rish e sheshey ayns sonnish, lesh ooilley yn yiastlys as mieys va ayns e pooar; “Lhig dooin freayl yn lhiannoo aalin shin hene. Bee mayd jannoo thurn mie, as bee yn tuittym magh ec kione.” Ren Monsieur Wahl soiaeghry jeh er ny va’n ven vie er gra rish, as çheleeragh dooyrt eh lesh coraa ard “Neem’s goaill kiarail jeh’n lhiannoo, as jannoo magh ooilley ny femeyn echey ayns yn traa ry-heet. Va’n mainshter jeant magh lesh shoh, as ren ooilley ny va er-boayrd moylley gys ny bodjalyn giastylys Vonsieur Wahll. | The master was afraid that the child would be left with him. In the end he refused to move forward. In a short time there was a row between the monsieur and the master, they were ready to fall out, but the Monsieur Val’s good wife approached and she said to her husband in a whisper, with all the charity and goodness that was in her power, “Let’s keep the beautiful child ourselves. We will be doing a good turn, and the dispute will be over.” Monsieur Val approved of what his wife had said to him, and straight away he said in a loud voice; “I will take care of the child, and fufill all his needs in the future. The master was satisfied with this and all who were on board praised to the clouds the charity of Monsieur Val. | |
| Fegooish cumrail sodjey, ren yn lhong roshtyn Vienna. Ren Monsieur Wahl kionnagh thie mooar feer aalin, as soiagh seose ayns dellal myr v’eh cliaghtey. Ren eh cur ynsagh ard da yn inneen veg Antonia, as ren eh cur da Augustus myrgeddin, as ren yn ynsagh ren e voir coyrt da cooney lesh, as ren eh goaill dy thappee yn ynsagh va currit da yn lhiannoo beg. Ga dy row eh fegooish lane tushtey ren e gynsagh cha tappee gys v’eh yindys da e vainshteyrn. Marish shen, v’eh cha feagh as imlee, as graihagh marish fraggyrtagh as crauee, gys ghow ben vie Monsieur Wahl toshiaght dy ve cha graihagh er as dy beagh eh er ve yn lhiannoo eck hene. Ren yn coyrle va e Voir er coyrt da ayns aggle Yee, v’ee er lienney e chree lesh, goaill fraueyn dowin as gaase ny stroshey laa lurg laa. | Without further delay, the ship reached Vienna. Monsieur Val bought a big beautiful house, and set up in business as he used to. He gave a high education to the little girl Anotonia and he he gave to Ausgusts too, and the education the mother his mother gave him helped him, and he quickly took the education that was given to the little child Although he didn’t have much knowledge he learned so fast as to be a wonder to his masters. Moreover, he was so quiet, humble and loving, as well as ready to give answers and religious, that Monsieur Val’s good wife began to love him as much as if he had been her own child. The advice his mother had given him in fear of God, she had filled his heart with it, took deep roots and grew stronger day by day. | |
| Honnick Monsieur Wahl lesh taitnys dy row Augustus ginsaghey ooilley ny reddyn va bentyn rish dellal marçhanys as ayns tra gerrid ren eh goaill Augustus marish hene ayns yn thie coontee. As ren Augustus dy leah goaill ayrn ayns ooilley yn dellal, as roish v’eh feed blein dy eash v’eh son jannoo ooilley da Monsieur Wahl. Ren eh sheeney magh e yellalyn veih laa gys laa. Ghow eh er dy yannoo magh yn çheshaght chaggee choud as va’n caggey cummal rish, agh ga nagh row e jannoo agh vondeish lowal, ren eh çhaglym red erskyn thowse dy airh. Ren e ghoaill baght jeh Augustus cre wheesh as ve ayns e lhiastynys son ooilley yn obbyr ve er yannoo da. | Monsieur Val saw with pleasure that Augusts was learning all the things that were concered with merchantile business and in a short while he took Augustus with him in the counting house, and Augusts soon engaged in all the business, and before he was twenty years of age he could do everything for Monsieur Val. He expanded his dealings day by day. He decided to supply to the army whilst the war continued, but although he was only making a lawful profit, he collected an immeasreable amount of gold. He observed of Augustus how much he was in debt to him for all the work he had done for him. | |
| Tra shoh va Antonia er n’aase seose ben seyr aeg feer aalin as mie glen ayns callin as annym. Ren Monsieur Wahl gennaghtyn dy row eh yn cair echey dy yannoo cooilleeney da Augustus son e labbragh as e chruinnagh as e ghellalyn as ooilley v’er er yannoo da, as ren eh cur Antonia da Augustus son e ven heshey. | In the meantime, Antonia had grown up a beautiful young lady and well pure in body and soul. Monsieur Val felt that is was his right to reward Audustus for his labour, and his collecting, and his dealings and all he had done for him, and he gave Antonia to Augustus to be his wife. | |
| Lurg da’n chaggey ve harrish. Va’n Emperor yeerree dy yannoo culleeney. da Monsieur Wahl as y vac son ooilley ny va’d er yannoo dy yannoo magh femeyn yn çheshaght chaggee. As chur eh keid daue dy ghoaill orroo hene yn onnor jeh çhiarnyn Walheim. Cha row ayr as moir Augustus liorish doltanys foddey son goaill soylley jeh nyn stayd ooasle; hooar ad baase ayns tra gerrid ny lurg shen, agh v’ad paartail ayns shee liorish fakin dy row Antonia feer vaynrey. | After the war was over, the Emperor was wanting to reward Monsieur Val and his son for all they had done to supply the needs of the army, and he gave them permission to take upon themselves the honour of the Lords of Walheim. Augustus’ parents through adoption weren’t able to enjoy their noble state for long; they died shortly after that, but they were passing away in peace, by seeing that Antonia was very happy. | |
| Tra va Augustus er chur seose ooilley e ghellalyn, v’eh kiarit dy chionnagh da hene ayns Bavaria, ny Swabia, unnane jeh ny cashtalyn mooarey va’n chaggey er vaagail fegooish cummaltee as va nish dy ve creckit son keesh resoonagh. Va ymmodee er ny yeeaghyn da, as lurg da er ghoaill jurnaa, dy akin ad ooilley, ren eh kionnagh çhiarnys Neurkirch va, son e vooadys as aalid yn çheer, yn boayl bynney lesh. | When Augustus had given up all his dealings, he was intending to buy, in Bavaria, or Swabia, one of the great castles that the war had left without inhabitants and was now to be sold for a reasonable fee. Many were shown to him, and after he had taken a journey to see them all, he bought the domain of Neukirk, which was, for its size and beauty of the land, the place he loved best. | |
| Ren eh çheleeragh geddyn yn cashtal aarloo dy chummal ayn, as eisht ren eh goll dy gheddyn e ven, as e chloan, dy yannoo eh nyn ynnyd-vaghee. Tra ren Antonia roshtyn yn çheer noa, marish e sheshey, as tra ren ee fakin yn cragh va’n caggey er yannoo, vee er ny lieeney lesh trimshey as çhymmey. Va earroo mooar jeh ny thien, lhieggit gys yn thalloo, ny reeastane. “Aless! Sleih boghtey!” dooyrt ee lesh jeir ayns e sooilyn, “Shegin dooin çheet gys yn chooney eu.” | He immediately got the castle ready to live in, and then he went to get his wife, and his children, to make it their residence. When Antonia reached the new land, with her husband, and when she saw the devastaion the war had made, she was filled with sadness, and pity. There was a great number of houses knocked down flat, a desolation, “Oh no! Poor people!” she said with tears in her eyes “We must come to your help!” | |
| Ren Augustus goaill boggey dy row yn ven echey lesh yn un ennaghtyn rish hene son ny boghtyn, as ren eh siyr dy yannoo magh femeyn yn sleih boght, meevaynrey. Ren eh cur fuygh daue. as argid dy hroggal thieyn, marish rassyn as cabbyl kionnit echey da’n sleih va ayns feme jeu. Ayns traa gerrid ren yn dooinney ooasle giastylagh fakin ymmydee thieyn noa er yn stayd mooar hallooin echey, as ny magheryn berçhagh ayns stayd vie. Cha voddagh yn sleih boghtey geddyn goan jesh dy liooar dy chur booise da, son dy row eh er ve cha erreeishagh daue. | Augustus rejoiced that his wife felt the same way as himself, for the poor, and he hurried to supply the needs of the poor unhappy people. He gave them wood, and money to build houses, as well as seeds and horses bought by him for the people who needed them. In a short while the charitable nobleman saw many new houses on his great estate of land, and the flourishing fields in good condition. The poor people couldn’t find nice enough words to thank him, because he had been so compassionate to them. | |
| As fey-yerrey haink ad ooilley ayns un sheshaght gys yn cashtal echey, dy hyndaa booise da Monsieur de Wahlheim as e ven ooasle. Agh dooyrt Augustus roo; “Ta Jee er hroggal mee seose voish guilley beg boght myr va mee dy ve dooinney berçhagh as pooaral, as er vannaghey mee ayns ooilley my laboraght, as veigin feer neu-wooisal my nagh jinnin cur da sleih elley ta ayns feme. Nane jeh ny bannaghtyn ta mee goaill soylley jeu; ta mee goaill boggey dy vel mee son jannoo red ennagh son yn vaynrys eu, son cha nel taitnys smoo na dy yannoo nyn sheshaghtyn cretoor maynrey. | And at last they all came in one procession to his castle, to return thanks to Monsieur de Wahleim and his noble wife. But Augustus said to them; “God has raised me up from a poor small boy as I was, to be a rich and powerful man, and blessed me in all my labours, and I would be very ungrateful were I not to give to others who are in need. One of the blessings I am enjoying; I rejoice that I can do something for your happiness, for there is no greater pleasure than to make our fellow creatures happy. | |
| Yn Lhiannoo Caillit er ny Gheddyn Reesht. | The Lost Child Found Again. | |
| Choud as va Augustus de Wahlheim, myr ta shin er vakin, gaase berçhagh as Çhiarn pooaral, Va e voir Theodora voght er gholl trooid ymmodee seaghyn as v’ee er leeideil bea dy creoighysyn ga dy row ee er chummal seose, ayns dy chooilley hraa, liorish y treisht ayns mieys Yee. Ayns traa gerrid lurg jee ve er choayl yn Augustus beg eck ayns yn cheyll haink yn caggey gys yn ayrn shen jeh’n Danube, raad v’ee commal, as va’n boayl goit liorish joarreeyn. | Whilst Augustus de Walheim was, as we have seen, becoming a rich and a powerful Lord, his poor mother Theodora had gone through many sorrows and she had led a life of hardships, although she had held up, at all times, by her trust in the goodness of God. In a short while after she had lost her little Augustus in the forest the war came to that part of the Danube, where she lived, and the place was taken by foreigners. | |
| Ren Theodora faigail yn thie beg ayns yn cheyll, as goll gys yn valley, dy cummal thie da e braar va cummal ayns thie e ayr. Agh cha row eh ayns shen agh traa gerrid tra ren yn caggey stroie yn balley, gys nagh row monney thieyn faagit ny hassoo, as ve faagit liorish yn ayrn smoo jeh ny cummaltee. | Theodora left the little house in the forest and went to the town, to keep house for her brother who was living in his father’s house, but she was only there a short time when the war destroyed the town, until not many houses were left standing, and it was abandoned by the majority of the inhabitants. | |
| Cha row thie Theodora spaarit, as va (thie) yn Braar eck brisht ‘gys yn dorrys’[1], as v’eh eiginit dy gholl dy eeastagh boayl erbee dy voddagh eh. Er son Theodora, hie ee dy chummal marish e shuyr, mysh queig veeilley as da’eed jeh. As ren e shuyr goaill ree dy mie. Ren Theodora cooney lhee dy hroggal yn lughtthie mooar eck, as ren yn daa huyr cordail dy mie trooid ooilley ny doillidysyn as yn voghtnid va’n caggey er chur lesh orroo. | Theodora’s house was not spared, and her brother was broken to the door, and he was forced to go to fish anywhere he could. As for Theodora, she went to life with her sister, about forty-five miles away, and her sister accepted her well. Theodora helped her to raise her large family, and the two sisters got on well together through all the difficulties and the poverty that the war had brought upon them. | |
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[1] In Ned Beg’s original; van Braar eck brish gys yn dorrys— There seems to be some words missing here.
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| Ymmodee bleeantyn lurg shen, ren ad geddyn screeuyn voish yn çheer, voish nyn mraar, gra dy row yn ven echey marroo, as dy row yn daa inneen echey poost rish joarreeyn, ayns traa yn chaggey, as v’eh laccal Theodora dy heet reesht dy cummal thie da. Ren ee siyr dy heet reesht. Cha leah as ren ee roshtyn gys yn valley ren ee goll ec keayrt gys yn cheyll dy akin yn billey beech, raad honnick ee yn guilley beg eck ny chadley. Agh ren ee geddyn dy chooilley nhee caghlaait as er ny cheau bun-ry-skyn. | Many years after that, they received a letter from the country, from their brother, saying that his wife was dead, and that his two daughters were married to foreigners, at the time of the war, and he wanted Theodora to come back to keep house for him. She hurried to come back. As soon as she reached the town she went at once to the forest to see the beech tree, where she saw her little boy asleep, but she found everything changed and thrown topsy-turvey. | |
| Yn cassan va leeideil gys yn thie eck, cha row eh ny sodjey ry-akin, v’eh er ny choodagh liorish faiyr as thammagyn. Ayns boayl nagh row veg agh banglaneyn gaase va nish biljynyn mooarey gaase as thammagyn dy ghreessyn as ny biljyn vee er vakin ayns yn tra va er gholl shaghey, cha voddagh ee cur enney orroo nish as cha row cowrey erbee jeh yn thie beg fuygh, ec ayns yn cheyll, as cha voddagh ee geddyn magh yn boayl v’eh er ve ny hassoo, va ooilley mygeayrt lane dy viljyn aegey. Ren Theodora skee jee hene. Son tra liauyr v’ee jeeaghyn son yn billey beech, raad v’ee er ve mennick keayney, cha mennick fo yn scaadoo echey ren ee ronsagh fud ny dressyn as ooilley ny biljyn beech v’ee fakin ayns fardail. “Cre’n traa nee’m geddyn yn billey, dooyrt ee. | The path which was leading to her house; it was no longer visible, it had been covered by grass and bushes. Where there wasn’t anything but branches growing there was now big trees growing and bushes of brambles, and the trees she had seen in times gone past she couldn't recognise now and thre was no sign of her little wooden house in the forest, and she couldn’t find where it had been standing, all around was full of young trees. Theodora made herself tired. For a long time she was looking for the beech tree, where she had often been crying, so often under its shade, she searched through the branbles and all the beech trees she was seeing in vain. “When will I find find the tree?” she said. | |
| “Ny gow shiu wheesh dy obbyr, voir vie,” dooyrt shenn ghooinney va çhaglym banglaneyn ayns y cheyll, “cha vel yn billey er ve fakinit rish tra liauyr, ta’n caghlaa mooar ta shiu er vakin ayns yn balley er ghoaill toshaght ayns yn cheyll myrgeddin. Ny deiney va nyn baitçhyn tra ren shin faagail, as ta er n’aase seose, adsyn va aeg ta nish shenn, as shenn gheiney; cha nel ad ayns shoh ny smoo. Ta ny biljyn aegey er naase seose ayns ynnyd ny shenn viljyn. Ta dy chooilley nhee ayns yn seihll goll ersooyl as deiney ny stappee na biljyn, cha vel ain boayl erbee ta farraghtyn ayns shoh wass, as shegin dooin streeu dy gheddyn gys boayl nagh vel caghlaa cha syragh as fod mayd, ta kiarit dooin er nyn skyn. | “Don’t take on so much work, dear mother,” said an old man who was gathering branches in the forest, ‘the tree hasn’t been seen for a long time. The great change you have seen in the town has also started in the forest. The men who were children when we left, and have grown up, and those who were young are now old – and old men; they aren’t here anymore. The young trees have grown up in place of the old trees. Everything in the world goes away and men faster than trees, we have no place at all that lasts in this world, and we must try to find to a place that doesn’t change, as quickly as we can, that is prepared for us above us.” | |
| Lurg ny goan shen, hie yn çhenn ghoinney ooasle roish. As ren Theodora coayl ooilley e jerkal dy akin yn billey reesht. | After these words, the noble old man went on his way and Theodora lost all her expectation of seeing the tree again. | |
| Monsieur de Walheim va cummal ymmodee meeilaghyn veih yn cheyll ny yeih va’n keyll as yn balley as ooilley lesh hene as ayrn jeh’n stayd mooar echey. Un laa haink eh gys yn cheyll dy akin row dy chooilley lughtthie geddyn nyn ayrn hene jeh yn fuygh son aile geuree. Va’n cheyll ayns stayd feer camlaagagh, cha row veg jeh’n fuygh er ve lhieggit son ymmodee bleeantyn as v’eh slane aasit. Va Augustus er-y-fa-shen yeearree dy yeeaghyn harrishdoo eh hene, nagh beagh ad giarit sheese lhag-chiarailagh. V’eh yeearree myrgeddin dy akin dy row ad ooilley geddyn nyn gair. Ren eh gyllagh er ooilley ny hayraghyn as king lughtthie dy haglym ayns yn cheyll, as ve cur daue paart dy cheayrtyn un villey as eisht billey elley. | Monsieur dd Walheim, who was living many miles from the forest nevertheless owned the forest and the town as part of his large estate. One day he came to the forest to see if every family was getting their own share of the wood for winter fire. The forest was in a very crooked state; non of the wood had been felled for many years and is was fully grown. Augustus was therefore wanting to oversee them himself, so that they wouldn’t be cut down without due care. He was also wanting to see that they were all receiving their fair share. He called on all the fathers and heads of families to gather in the forest, and he was giving them sometimes one tree and then another tree. | |
| Va Theodora er jeet son e braar. As ren yn billey beech çheet er yn loat eck, raad va Monsieur de Wahlheim ny hasoo. Haink ee er-gerrey dy vreagey yn çhairn ooasle dy phardooney yn braar eck, er yn oyr nagh row eh er jeet eh hene. “T’eh çhing,” dooyrt ee, “as cha vel eh son faagail yn lhiabbee.” Va Monsieur dy Walheim beg-smooinaghtyn dy row yn ven voght va ayns coamrey cha moal va e voir as cha row ish smooinaght veg smoo dy row yn çhiarn berçhagh va ny hassoo kiongoyrt ree ayns blaa e aegid as aalid lesh e vairnyn coodit lesh daimanyn, coamrit lesh garmad cha stoamey, va yn mac v’ee er ve cha mennick keayney er e hon. | Theodora had come for her brother. And the beech tree came on her lott (was allotted to her) where Monsieur de Wahlheim was standing. She came close to persusade the noble lord to pardon her brother because he had not come himself. “He’s sick,” she said “and he can’t leave the bed.” Monsieur de Walheim little thinking that the poor woman who was in such miserable clothing was his mother, and she wasn’t thinking either that the wealthy lord who was standing before her in the flower of youth with his fingers covered with diamonds, dressed with such grand clothing, was the son son she had so often wept for. | |
| Ren eh gennaghtyn ec keayrt lane çhymmey son yn ven voght, ga nagh row enney echey urree. As ren eh gordrail dy row yn billey beech dy ve er ny lhieggal jee. Ren arryder yn cheyll gra dy beagh eh lane cooyl dy lheiggal yn billey beech | He instantly felt a lot of sympathy for the poor woman, although he didn’t recognise her, and he ordered that the beech tree was to be felled for her. The watchman of the forest said that he would be very backward (stupid) to fell that beech tree, that the birch and the aspen were good enough for the poor people, that the beech ought to be for the castle and its officers. Monsieur Walheim gave him a sharp look and said, “Should we give to the poor only that which we despise? But let’s give to them, when they are in need of it, some of the wealth that we ourselves enjoy. This tree is for the sister of the sick man, and let the wood be brought to the sister’s door. Put your hands to the work immediately, and let the wood be got ready before my own wood.” | |
| shen, dy row yn birch as yn aspen mie dy liooar da’n sleih boghtey, dy lhisagh yn beech ve da’n chashtal as ny offisheryn eck. Ren Monsieur de Walheim jeeaghyn dy geyre er as gra, “Lhisagh shin cur da ny boghtyn ynrican shen ta shin soieagh beg jeh. Agh lhig dooin cur daue, tra t’ad ayns feme jeh, ayrn jeh’n verçhys ta shin hene goaill soylley jeh. Ta’n billey shoh da shuyr yn dooinney çhing, as lhig da’n fuygh ve currit lesh gys dorrys y çhuyr. Cur-jee nyn laueyn gys yn obbyr çheleeragh as lhig da’n fuygh ve geddynit aarloo roish yn fuygh aym pene.” | ||
| Eisht hie eh as yn raad son nagh beagh eh clashtyn booise yn ven voght, as ren ee jeeaghyn geiyrt er lesh jeir ayns e sooillyn as gra “Dy bannee Jee yn çhiarn mie!” ny yeih hie eh er e raad. Myr shen, ren yn voir as yn mac nagh row er vakin y-cheilley son shey bleeaney as feed meeiteil ayns yn cheyll as v’ad myr shoh er phardail son dy bragh, mannagh row Jee er ghoaill er hene dy hoilshagh magh eh ec yn tra shen. Ren ny gareyderyn lesh nyn teighyn foyragh bwoailley er yn billey as ren eh tuittym gys yn thalloo. Tra ren eh tuittym ec yn un traa dooyrt yn daa ghooinney “Mirral! Mirral!”. | Then he went out of the way, because he wouldn’t hear the thanks of the poor woman, and she looked at him as he went with tears in her eyes and said “May God bless the good lord!” although he went on his way. So, the mother and the son who hadn’t seen each other for twenty-six years met in the forest and they had (would have) separated like this for ever, if God himself had not decided to reveal himself at that moment. The gardeners, with their sharp axes, struck the tree and it fell to the ground, when it fell, at the same time, the two men said “A miracle! A miracle!” | |
| Ren yn billey eck tuittym, brishey erskin y thalloo, ayns boayl va er n’aase loau as ren ayrn jeh’n roost troggal jeh, as va pictor beg Ren Theodora croghey er ymmodee bleintyn roish shen son cooinaghtyn jeh e mac, çheet ayns shilley. V’ee er ve jeeaghyn er-e-hon keayrt ny ghaa, agh ayns fardail, va cullyr yn phictor cha sollys as tra ren ee croghey eh er yn villey; ren eh soilshean ayns yn ghrian myr dy beagh eh er ve coamrit lesh skell ny ghreiney. | Her tree, as it fell, broke above the ground, in a place that had grown rotten, and a portion of the bark lifted off it, and there was a little picture, that Theodora hung upon it many years before as a memento of her son, coming into sight. She had been looking for it many a time, but in vain, the colour of the picture as bright as when she hung it on the tree; it shone in the sun as if it were covered with a sunbeam. | |
| Va ny lhieggeyderyn deiney aegey nagh row toiggal oc jeh Theodora as yn billey beech. “Cre’n aght haink eh dy ve ayns yn villey? T’eh erskyn nyn dushtey!” dooyrt ad rish y-cheilley. Cha voddagh unnane fakin fosley erbee ayns roost yn villey. Er çheu mooie, va’n roost er choodagh eh ooilley lesh kennagh goll-rish ooilley ny shenn viljyn ayns yn cheyll. “Ta shoh red yindyssagh! T’eh mirral!” | The tree-fellers were young men who didn’t know about Theodora and the beech tree. “How did it come to be in the tree? We can’t comprehend it!” they said to each other. No one could find any opening in the bark of the tree. On the outside the bark had covered it completely with moss like all the old trees in the forest. “This is a wonder! It’s a miracle!” | |
| Er chlashtyn ny goan shoh, haink Monsieur de Walheim reesht. Cha row eh er ve foddey jeh. Ghow eh yn pictor ayns e laueyn as ren e jeeaghyn dy geyre er. T’eh feer aalin dy jarroo.” dooyrt eh. | Having heard these words, Monsieur de Walheim came back. He hadn’t been far off. He took the picture in his hands and he looked keenly at it, “It’s very pretty indeed.” he said. | |
| Ooilley ec keayrt ren Monsieur de Walheim caghlaa ayns cullyr e eddyn, as ghow yn laue va cummal yn pictor toshaight dy chraa. “Oh, ta!” dooyrt eh “T’eh red feer yindyssagh!” Ren e soie sheese er yn villey son nagh jinnagh eh tuittym, son v’eh ooilley er-creau. V’eh er vakin er cooyl yn phictor as er lhaih ny va scruit er. “Ayns yn vlein shey cheead yeig, ghaa yeig as feed voish yn traa ruggyr Chreest, er yn jeihoo laa jeh October, honnick mee son yn cheayrt s’jerree, fo’n villey shoh, my ynrican vac Augustus, yn eash echey va queig bleeaney as three meeaghyn.— Dy bee Jee marish ayns sheshaght rish, ayns dy chooilley ynnyd, as dy jean yn mainshter flaunyssagh shen myr ren E gerjagh Moirrey ec bun y chrosh, cur paart dy gherjagh dooys. Theodora Summer, goll-rish Morrey my voir fadane.” | All at once Monsieur de Walheim changed in the colour of his face, and the hand that was holding the picture started to shake. “Oh! Yes!” he said “It is a wonderful thing!” He sat down on the tree so that he wouldn’t fall, for he was trembling all over. He had seen on the back of the picture and had read what was written on it. “In the year sixteen hundred and thirty-two from the time of the birth of Christ, on the tenth day of October, I saw for the last time, under this tree, my only som Augustus, aged five years and three months, — May God be with him, in company with him, in every place; — and may that heavenly master, as he consoled Mary at the foot of the cross give some consolation to me. Theodora Summer, like Mary, a solitary mother.” | |
| Myr aile tendreil ren eh goll trooid aigney Monsieur de Walheim “Mee hene yn lhannoo caillit shen! Ta’n vlein, as yn ennym as yn laa prowalyn dy liooar dy re my Voir ren cur yn pictor ayns yn villey.” | Like lightning, it went through Monsieur de Walheim’s mind “I myself am that lost child! The year, and the name and the day are enough pieces of evidence that it was my mother who put the picture in the tree.” | |
| Choud as v’eh prowal yn pictor, haink Theodora seose roie huggey. V’ee er chlashtyn dy row yn pictor geddynit son va’n skeeal er gholl trooid yn cheyll, as va’n sleih ooilley ayns yindys. “My hiarn,” dooyrt ee, “ta’n pictor shen lhiam’s. Ta shiu fakin dy vel my ennym scruit er. Ta mee yeearree shiu dy chur dou eh. Ren yn saggyrt mie ain scrieu eh ec my aghin, as ec my agin ren eh scrieu ny goan elley.” | Whilst he was checking the picture, Theodora came up running to him. She had heard that the picture was found because the story had gone through the forest, and the people were all in wonder. “My lord,” she said, “I own that picture. You see that my name is written on it. I beg you to give it to me. Our good priest wrote it at my request, and at my request he wrote the other words.” | |
| “Aless,” dooyrt ee keayney, as jeaghyn sheese er yn villey, va er duittym, “Jeeagh ayns shen, ta’n billey beech, fo yn scaa echey va Augustus cadley cha sheeoil roish ve er ny ghoaill ersooyl voym son dy bragh, cre wooad keayrt as ta mish er gholl shaghey yn billey shen fegooish cur enney er neayr as haink mee gys shoh? Oh Augustus, ta mee nish fakin keayrt elley yn boayl ren mee fakin oo son yn cheayt s’jerree. Aless, cha jeanym dy bragh fakin oo arragh. Cha voddym jannoo veg agh asnaghey roish dy oaie.” Ren ny jeir cummal ee voish gra ny smoo. | “Oh no!” she said crying whilst looking down at the tree that had fallen, “Look there! The beech tree under whose shadow Augustus was sleeping so peacefully before he was taken away from me for ever. How many times have I gone past that tree without recognising it since I came here? Oh Augustus! I now see one more time the place I saw you for the last time. Alas, I can never see you again, I can’t do anything but sigh in front of your face.” Her tears prevented her from saying any more. | |
| Monsieur e Wallheim va er n’ynsagh e ennym voish yn pictor v’eh cummal ayns e laue, va faggys dy ve shaghey e hene er gheddyn shickerys dy re yn ven voght shen va e Voir, ren e chree lheimyragh as v’eh er cheau eh hene ayns ny roihaghyn eck agh ren eh smooinaghtyn dy beagh boggey cha doltattym yn baase eck. Ghow eh yn laue eck myr carrey as ren eh nhiee ersooyl y jeir eck lesh y wussal phoshag bane, as cur paart dy gherjagh jee as ayns traa gerrid dooyrt eh ree, dy row yn mac ec foast bio dy row enney echey er as dy jinnagh ee fakin eh ayns traa gerrid as tra honnick e dy row ee er ny gherjaghey as ayns stayd dy hassoo eh; “Mee hene yn mac caillit eu,” dooyrt eh ree. | Monsieur dy Walheim, who had learnt her name from the picture he was holding in his hand, was nearly out of his mind having found confirmation that the poor woman was his mother; his heart jumped and he had thrown himself into her arms, but he thought he thought that the joy would be the death of her. He took her hand as a friend and he washed away her tears with his white pocket hankerchief, and put gave her some comfort and in a short while he said to her that her son was still alive, that he knew him, and that she would see him in a short while, and when he saw that she was consoled and in a state to stand it; “I myself am your lost child.” he said to her. | |
| Ren yn voir lheim ayns ny roihaghyn echey, as cha ren ee gra ynrican “Uss!” Cha voddagh ee gra ny smoo. Ren ad cummal y-cheilley son traa liauyr fegooish loayrt fockle. Ren yn shilley shen coyrt lesh jeir ayns dy chooilley hooil ren cur my-ner ad. | The mother jumped into his arms, and she only said “You!” she couldn’t say more. They held each other for a long time without saying a word. That sight brought a tear to every eye that beheld them. | |
| “Voir deyr,” dooyrt Monsieur de Wahlheim ec y jerrey, “Ta Jee er choyrt diu nyn yeearree. Ren shiu yeearree er son aym’s as myr ren shiu scrieu er yn phictor beg shoh, t’Eh er ve marym ayns dy chooilley voayl, as er vannaghey mee ayns dy chooilley nhee. T’Eh myrgeddin er choyrt diu nyn yeearree, er son eu hene, as er gherjagh shiu myr ren eh gerjaghey Moirrey ec bun y chrosh. T’Eh er chur diu nyn mac caillit reesht, as er cur diu dy akin eh bio, ayns yn seihll shoh wass. She fo’n villey shoh va shin er nyn scarrey, as she ec yn un voayl t’Eh er chur lesh shin cooidjagh reesht. T’Eh son shickyrys er ghoaill kiarail jeh;n phictor beg shoh, dy voddagh eh ve yn ayr dooin dy gheddyn magh y-cheilley as dy gheddyn enney er-y-cheilley reesht, as dy ve unnanae reesht. T’Eh er yeeaghyn dooin, dy vel ooilley ny t’Eh dy yannoo son y chooid share. | “Dear Mother,” said Monsieur de Walheim finally, “God has sent you your desire. You begged him for me, and as you wrote on this little picture, he has been with me in every place, and has blessed me in everything. He has also brought you your desire, for yourself, and has consoled you as he consoled Mary at the foot of the cross. He has sent your lost son back to you, and has sent you to see him alive, in this world below. It was under this tree that we were separated, and it is at the same spot that he has brought us together again. He has surely taken care of this little picture so that it could be the reason for us to find each other and to recognise each other, and to be united again. He has shown us that all that he has does is for the best.” | |
| “Ta,” dooyrt Theodora, “ta ooilley shen yn irriney. Ren E goaill shiu voish oghrish nyn Moir, er yn oyr, foddee eh ve, nagh row mee kiarailagh dy liooar jiu, ayns my lambanid, as nagh row mee coyrlaghey shiu dy liooar dy yannoo yn aigney Echey. Agh t’Eh er chur shiu dou reesht, dy vod shiu ve my chooney ayns my henn eash, as dy ve oyr dy vaynrys, as gerjagh, da’n slane çheer. Bee shiu nish nyn Ard-reiltagh as yn Ainle vees goaill kiarail jeem. Ooilley ny ta’n Jee mie jannoo, t’eh ayns creenaght, as ayns graih. Bannit dy row yn ennym Echey.” As ren ooilley yn sleih va kionefenish çhyndaa booise gys Jee, son ny obbraghyn yindyssagh t’eh dy yannoo son cloan gheiney. | “Yes,” said Theodora, “all that is the truth. He took you from the bosom of your mother, because, perhaps I wasn’t careful enough of you, in my weakness of youth, and I wasn’t advising you enough to do His will. But He has sent you to me now, so that you can be my help in my old age, and to be a reason of happiness, and comfort, for the whole country. You will now be a monarch, and the angel who will take care of me. All that the good God does is in wisdom and truth. Blessed be His name.” And all the people who were present returned thanks to God, for the wonderful works he does for the children of mankind. | |
| Ren Monsieur de Walheim gordrail arreyder yn cheyll dy gholl as dy ghra rish y naim nagh row Theodora çheet thie gys laa ny vairagh marish e mac. Ren Theodora yeearree er unnane jeh e nabooyn dy ghoaill kiarail jeh e braar gys yinnagh ee çheet reesht. | Monsieur de Walheim ordered the watchman of the forest to go and to say to his uncle that Theodora wasn’t coming home until the day after, with her son. Theodora begged one of her neighbours to take care of her brother until she would come back. | |
| Ny lurg shen ren Monsieur dy Walheim gordrail e ainagh dy ve currit lesh, as ren eh cooney lesh e voir dy gholl aynjee as ren eh soie sheesh rish e lhiattee, as eiyrt ayns siyr, er yn raad gys y chashtal, raad va boggey noa fieau urree. | After that, Monsieur de Walheim ordered the coach to be brought, and he helped his mother to get into it, and he sat down by her side, and drove in a hurry, on the way to the castle, where there was a new joy awaiting her. | |
| Va Theodora goaill nearey dy heet ayns kionefenish e hinneen sy leigh ayns e garmad moal, agh cha ren Antonia cur geill da shen. Ren ee lheim ayns roihaghyn Theodora. As vee feer vaynrey dy gheddyn, ec y jerrey, moir yn heshey eck v’ee cha graighagh er. Ren Theodora keayney son boggey, as tra ren ad cur lesh nyn daa lhiannoo huic, Ferdinand as Maria, v’ee er-gerrey da goll neealloo lesh maynrys. | Theodora was embarrased to come into the presence of her daughter-in-law in her miserable clothing, but Antonia didn’t pay attention to that. She jumped into Theodora’s arms, and she was very happy to find, finally, the mother of the husband she loved so much. Theodora cried for joy, and when they brought their two twins to her, Ferdinand and Maria, she was narly fainting with happiness. | |
| “Va my heaghyn ayns yn traa te’r gholl shaghey erskyn goan,” dooyrt ee, agh nish ta my voggey erskyn ooilley. Cha nel mee son jannoo veg agh keayney as prayal as cur booise da’n Çhiarn.” | “My sorrows in time gone past are beyond words,” she said, “but now my joy is above everything. I can do nothing but cry and pray and give thanks to the Lord.” | |
| Moghrey laa ny vairagh, ren Monsieur de Walheim gordrail yn ainagh, as ren eh geiyrt marish e voir gys thie e naim. Ren Theodora furriaght marish e braar gys v’eh dy slane er chouyral, as eisht haink ee dy chummal ayns cashtal e mac, son va Augustus as Antonia yeearree dy beagh ee er-gerrey daue. | The morning of the next day, Monsieur de Walheim ordered the coach, and he drove with his mother to the house of his uncle. Theodora stayed with her brother until he was completely better, and then she came to live in her son’s castle because Augustus and Antonia were begging that she would be close to them. | |
| Er son braar as shuyr Theodora v’er ny yialdyn daue dy beagh ad maynrey dy liooar ayns traa gerrid as er son yn traa va ry-heet. Va Monsieur de Walheim as e ven heshey vie erskyn goaill nearey jeh nyn sleih moonjerey boght, as ren ad cuirrey ad ooilley dy heet coodjagh un laa gys yn chashtal. Ayraghyn as Moiraghyn as chloan as chloan chleiney gys jinnair, as va Theodora benainshter ny cuirraghyn. | As for Theodora’s brother and sister, it was promised to them that they would be happy enough in a short while and for the future. Monsieur de Walheim and his good wife were above being ashamed of their poor relations, and they invited them all to come together one day to the castle; fathers and mothers and children and grandchildren to dinner, and Theodora was the mistress of invitations (hostess). | |
| Va’n sleih mie shoh as ny dappey currit voue lesh yn reeail hooar ad, as dy row wheesh er ny yannoo jeu. Va jeirnyn dy aigney mie gennalys soilshean ayns dy chooilley hooill. Ren Augustus as Antonia geddyn magh cre va ny femeyn oc, as nyn yeearree, as cha ren ad faagail unnane jeu nagh ren ad jannoo magh. Ren dy chooilley unnane geddyn ayrn co-laik jeh’n foaltys oc, as myr shoh, ren yn jees aegey shen tayrn orroo hene graih as bannaghtyn ooilley ny cummaltee va cummal er yn stayd mooar hallooin oc hene, as haink ad dy ve oyr dy vaynrys, as taitnys daue. | These good people were astonished by the merriment they found, and that so much had been done for them. There were tears of goodwill and cheerfullness shining in every eye. Augustus and Antonia found out their needs, and their desires, and they didn’t leave any one of them that they didn’t satisfy. Everyone got an equal share of their hospitality, and so, that young couple drew upon themselves the love and blessings of all the inhabitants who were living on their own large estate, and they became a cause of happiness and pleasure to them. | |
| Va’n pictor beg voish yn cheyll er ny hoieaghey seose ayns ard shamyr yn chashtal ayns boayl cronnal dy voddagh ad ooilley goaill baght jeh. “Bee dooin son cowrey,” dooyrt eshyn, “dy hreishteil shin hene gys kiarailys Yee, as dy choyrt booise da son ooilley e obbraghyn yindyssagh son cloan gheiney. | The little picture from the forest was set up in a main room of the castle in a conspicuous place so that they all could view it. “It will be, for us, a sign,” he said, to trust ourselves to God’s plan, and to give thanks to him for all his wonderful works for the children of mankind. | |
| Myr shoh ta jerrey er skeeal yn lhiannoo caillit, as t’eh feer yindyssagh cre wheesh dy heaghyn as ta çheet er paart dy sleih, as paart elley nagh vel geddyn agh feer veg. | This is how the story of the lost child ends, and it is really wonderful how much sorrow comes upon the portion of some people, and others who only get a very little. | |
| Scruit liorish Edwd Faragher er yn chiarroo laa jeh yn cheid vee jeh’n yeurey, ayns y vlein hoght cheead yeig kiare feed as nuy jeig. | Written by Edward Faragher, on the fourth day of the first month of the winter (November), in the year eighteen hundred and ninety-nine. | |