Cuirt An Mhean Oiche - by Brian Merriman (1780) : A Translation by Noel Fahy 1998

Cirt an Mhen Oche--Gluais
Cuirt an Mhen OcheThe Midnight Court

le/by
Brian Merriman
The Life of Brian

We do not know very much about the life of Brian Merriman (or Bryan Merryman, as he is commonly referred to in earlier sourcesseemingly, the current spelling became commonplace because of the lack of a native y in Irish). It is thought that he was born around 1747 in eastern Co. Clare. There is speculation that he was born on the wrong side of the blanket, the illegitimate son of a local squire. Some see in the paean to bastardry that makes up a considerable part of the old mans speech in the poem evidence of Brians feelings about his own origins. It is also suggested that this is where his anglicized name comes from. Although in some later publications, his name is gaelicized to Brian Mac Giolla Meidhre, there is no evidence that he went by anything other than Merriman in his own lifetime. By 1770, he was in the poverty-stricken and, at the time, backward east-county village of Feakle where he served as a schoolteacher. He was also a small farmer with a holding of twenty acres. Seemingly, he was at least an adequate farmer since there is a record of his having won two prizes from the Royal Dublin Society for his flax crop. There was no regular schoolhouse in Feakle until 1837 and the arrangements prior to that were pretty ad hoc. In 1825, for instance, there were thirteen schools in the parish but a description of the arrangements from a report that year of the Commissioners on Education in Ireland shows the parlousness of the system, if such it can be called. Four of the so-called schools met in chapels and two in the kitchen of the teachers dwelling. Even though the latter were probably nothing to write home about, they were hopefully better than the pitiful setup for the remaining seven, which were said to meet in:
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the mistresss dwellingan excavation in a broad bank of earth; a barna wretched hovel; a wretched cabin or cattle shed; a temporary cabin;
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a very wretched cabin; a waste barn; a barn.
Three schools were reported to have nineteen, twenty and twenty-nine pupils, respectively, but each of the other ten had between 51 and 128 attendees (for a total of 800), astonishing numbers given the nature of the establishments. If Merriman himself is indicative of even the most able products of such schoolsand where else would he have gotten his educationwe can only marvel at the ability to impart, and the desire to imbibe, knowledge in such unpromising surroundings. It is clear that, however he acquired it, Merriman had an acquaintance with contemporary English and European literature and thought. In his description of Brians life as an introduction to his translation of the Cirt, Riserd Foghl describes the hard life of the teacher: Bh an saol crua go leor ar mhinteoir scoile i dTuamhumhain le linn Bhriain agus tamall ina dhiaidh sin: ba chaol an tuarastal do bh ag dul dibh dhalta bochta na hite, i dtreo go mbodh ar an mistir banna, dintiir, srl., do scrobh do dhaoine chun cur lena fhltas, agus is minic do bigin don bhfear bocht ramhan agus sluasad do tharraingt chuige chun ral do thuilleamh.
(Schoolteachers lives in Thomond were quite difficult in Brians time and for a while thereafter: they got little in remuneration from the poor children of the area and they had to supplement their income by preparing legal documents for the people, and often the poor teacher had to take shovel or spade in hand to earn the odd sixpence.)
As is made abundantly clear in the final section of Cirt an Mhen Oche, Merriman did not marry until later in life and certainly not until after he had authored his famous work. It is likely that he married in the early 1790shis first child, a daughter named Caitln (Kathleen), was born in 1795. He had one other child, another daughter, Mire (Mary). His wife, whose name was Cit (Kit), was born in 1767. She was also known as Cit an Mhaighisteara (the masters Kit) attesting to Brians occupation. And she was later remembered as a fine, handsome, trim woman (bean bhre dhathil mhaiseach). At some stage, Brian Merriman had moved from rural Clare to Limerick City where he continued to eke out a seemingly meager existence as a teacher. He died suddenly there on
July 27, 1805 as an entry in the General Advertiser and Limerick Gazette of Monday, 29th July, 1795 noted: Died.On Saturday morning, in Old Clare-street, after a few hours illness, Mr. Bryan Merryman, teacher of Mathematics, etc. A few days later, on Thursday, a death notice appeared in Faulkners Dublin Journal: At Limerick, after a few hours illness, Mr. Bryan Merryman, teacher of mathematics. Cirt an Mhen Oche is essentially his sole work; only two other short lyrics are attributed to him. He composed it in 1780 and it is the great mystery of his life why he did not follow up on this opus in the twenty-five years of life remaining to him. We simply do not know the answer to that question. Daniel Corkery asked in The Hidden Ireland: Was it the poets moving into Limerick City caused the havoc?casting an aspersion on that city three quarters of a century before Frank McCourt did it at book length. Frank OConnor, in the introduction to his translation of the poem, has similar views of the benighted city: "There is no tablet in Clare Street to mark where Bryan Merryman, the author of the Midnight Court died, nor is there ever likely to be, for Limerick has a reputation for piety." But, then, O'Connor casts a no less jaundiced eye on Clare: "Merryman was born about the middle of the eighteenth century in a part of Ireland which then must have been as barbarous as any in Europeit isnt exactly what one would call civilised today." Merrimans poem is daring and explicit but that does not seem to have caused its author the type of grief that was visited on Irish authors in later years. In his introduction to the 1912 edition of the work, Piaras Basla notes: The poem at once attained popularity. Its freedom from stilted
language and archaism, its welding of the spoken speech into musical lines made it appeal to the educated and illiterate alike. Many manuscript copies were made, many people memorized it. Mr. Basla quotes a certain Dr. P. W. Joyce writing in 1879: Three years ago I met a man in Kilkeewho actually repeated for me, without the slightest hitch or hesitation, more than halfand if I had not stopped him, would have given me the whole of the Midnight Court. Mr. Basla continues: It is a fact, however strange, that none of the daring passages in the Cirt drew down upon their author any general outcry or denunciation. His audacious handling of ideas most sacred to the Gael, such as the celibacy of the clergy, does not appear to have made him any enemies. Probably he was protected just as Rabelais was protected by his pose of jester. His work was probably regarded by many as a kind of naughty joke, a piece of broad risky farce, not to be taken seriously. Piaras Basla may be barking up the wrong tree here by anachronistically ascribing the sensibilities of his time to an earlier, less straitlaced age. The acceptance of the poem may not have been at all strange. It is highly questionable whether ideas such as celibacy of the clergyand prudishness about matters sexual, in generalwere in any way sacred to the Gael. There is a great deal of evidence that the conservatism in matters religious and sexual were products of the second half of the nineteenth century which continued long into the twentieth and were, in fact, not native nor natural to the race. Blame, or credit, for its growth has been laid at the feet of imported French Jansenism but perhaps an even more important factor was the cataclysm of the Great Famine of the 1840s. That catastrophe produced two mutually reinforcing influences pushing the people towards such conservatism: the feeling that the indescribable horror of the famine was literally God-awful, a judgment of God on the country; and the fear of bringing large
numbers of children into a crowded, unsustaining environment, an aversion that encouraged delaying marriage until much later in life and fostered premarital celibacy during the prolonged period of batchelorhood/spinsterhood. In any case, in Merrimans own time, it seems that his poem was not merely tolerated by the people but heartily embraced. Backward the country may have been but one is dubious of the progress, if progress it was, of the following century and a half when we recall that, in 1945, the censors banned for a while Frank O'Connor's translation of the poem, just the sort of narrow-mindedness that Merriman had anticipatorily parodied long before and that was thereby deliciously, if presumably unwittingly, self-referential in its foolishness but was unfortunately made serious with the power of the nascentand self-professedly Gaelicstate behind it! After he finished Cirt an Mhen Oche, the poet fell silent and Bryan Merryman went on his way, merry or not as the case may have been.
1998: J. Noel Fahey
Fill ar Chlr Chinn na Cirte
Return to the Midnight Court Main Page
Cirt an Mhen Oche--Introduction

le/by
Brian Merriman
The Midnight Court

Professor Sen Tuama describes The Midnight Court well: The Midnight Court is undoubtedly one of the greatest comic works of literature, and certainly the greatest comic poem ever written in Ireland. It is a poem of gargantuan energy, moving clearly and pulsatingly along a simple story line, with a middle, a beginning and an end. For a poem of over one thousand lines it has few longeurs. It is full of tumultuous bouts of great good humour, verbal dexterity and rabelesian ribaldry. It is a mammoth readable achievement with little need of gloss. (Brian Merriman and His Court,
Sen Tuama, pg. 158)
Quite simply, as a modern-day publisher might say in promoting a new book: its a very good read. Formally, it consists of a Prologue, three dramatic monologues, and an Epilogue. It combines the traditional Irish aisling with the Court of Love poems of medieval Europe. The aisling, dream or vision, poetry was either amatory or political in which a comely spirbhean, or sky-woman, appears to the poet in a dream. For instance, in the 10-century Aisling Oneguso, the poet sees a beautiful maiden in a dream, with whom he falls in love and is eventually united. By the 18th century, although the love-aisling was still in use, the genre was more often devoted to political deliverance where the dream-woman was Ireland personified. By this time, the form had become quite stylized in many ways:
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The poet is out for a ramble, often first thing of a bright summers morning; He lays down by a stream for a rest and falls asleep; A beautiful woman appears in a dream whose allure is described in lavish and exuberant detail; The poet asks in wonder whether she is a Greek goddess or other fantastical figure (usually several possibilities are listed);
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She answers that she is no such creature but, instead, Ireland; and usually with a name such as Caitln N hUallachin, Sle N Ghadhra, Risn Dubhor simply ire; She laments the state of the country with its leaders dead or in exile and the foreigners in possession of their ancestral land; She foretells (in the 18th century) the imminent return of the rightful Stuart king or that help is due to arrive shortly from over the seas from Spain, France or the Pope; The poet awakens, sometimes to the bitter realization that, in fact, no salvation is at handit was only a dream.
A short example (generally these poems are quite lengthy) is An Aisling by Aodhagn Rathaille (?1670-1729) from the Sliabh Luachra district in County Kerry. Although too short to exhibit the panoply of features just outlined, the poem is interesting in the context of The Midnight Court, since the featured spirbhean is the same Aoibhill who plays such a major role in Merrimans work:
Maidin sul smaoin Titan a chosa do luail Ar mhullach cnoic aird aoibhinn do ldamar suas, Tarrastar linn scaoith bhruinnel soilbhir suairc Gasra bh i S Seana solasbhr thuaidh. Fearastar scm dhraochta nr dhorcha snua, Ghaillimh na log lgheal go Corcaigh na gcuan; Barra gach crainn sorchuireas toradh agus cnuas, Meas daire ar gach coill, frmhil ar chlocha go buan. Lasaidsin tr coinnle go solas nach luaim Ar mhullach Chnoic aird Fhrinne Conallach Rua; Leanastar linn scaoith na mban gcochall go Tuamhain, Is fachtaimse dhobh dograis a n-oifige ar cuairt. Dfhreagair an bhrd Aoibhill nr dhorcha snua, Fachain na dtr gcoinnle do lasadh ar gach cuan In ainm an r dhograis bheas againn go luath, One morning before Titan had brought forth first light On top of a fair hill of considerable height I met a sweet group of young girls bright A troop in S Seanas north fort of delight. A magic mist spread, which was not grey, From the harbours of Cork to Galway bay The clusters of fruit made every tree sway Acorns and pure honey everywhere lay. They lit three candles, casting an ineffable glow On Cnoc Firinnes lofty summint in Conallach Roe With the group of cloaked women to Thomond I did go Asking about their mission, if they could let me know Then answered lady Aoibhill whose face was not grey: They had lit the three candles above every bay In the name of the fond king who was on his way
I gceannas na dtr rochta*, is d gcosnamh go buan.
To wear the triple crown** forever and a day
As maisling do shlmbhogas go hachomair suas, Suddenly from my dreamy sleep I sat bolt upright Is do mheasas gurb fhor dAoibhill gach sonas dr Believing that Aoibhills good news must be right luaigh; Is amhlaidh bhos tmchreathach, doilbhir, duairc, But I found I was downcast and shaken with fright That morning before Titan had brought forth first Maidin sul smaoin Titan a chosa do luail. light * Sasana, ire is Alba. ** Of England, Ireland and Scotland. (Source: Text: Filocht na nGael, Pdraig Canainn do chuir in eagar, An Press Nisinta, Baile tha Cliath, 1958, lch. 65; My Translation) (The modern song in English by Tommy Makem, Four Green Fields, has some of the elements of the aisling in updated garba woman representing Ireland recounts how the strangers came and ravaged the country and its people, her pain over the continued loss of her lands, the six counties in this instance, but she expresses the hope of winning them back. Another song in English which even more closely resembles the love-aisling is Sle N Eidhir.)
As I said, all this had become rather stylized. Daniel Corkery speaks of an inbreeding among the poets of the bardic schoolsa disease most incident to academies. That rigid turn of mind which kept their literary medium in a strait-jacket for whole centuries, afraid not so much of growth as the dangers that go with it, kept the doors of the inventive faculties severely sentried, and for the selfsame reason. The movement of their minds is swift, precise, and often piercing, but one wishes for livelier contrasts, for richer colour, for readier emotions. (The Hidden Ireland, pg. 82). Similarly, Piaras Basla writes: "Few literatures have been less coloured by the individuality of the writers than Gaelic literature. It had been originally the product of a separate literary caste, confined to certain familes, taught in schools, shackled by conventions, by respect for tradition, by archaism." ("Merriman's Secret: An Interpretation," Piaras Basla, in Cuirt an mheadhon oidhche, Riseard O Foghludha, pg. 1). Merriman cetrainly broke the mold. Not only was did he write vigorously and expressively
in the everyday speech of County Clare and call a spade a spade rather than an agricultural implement, he introduced a burlesque element into the aisling form itself. There is not one vision-woman but two: the radiant Aoibheal, the very soul of convention, is teamed with a grotesque doppelgnger, the bailiff-womanat six or seven yards in height and with features to match, a parody of the beautiful spirbhean. In his long opus, he gives only the most cursory treatment, in a harangue in the Prologue that is largely irrelavant to the poems major themes, to that staple of the political aislingthe broken-down state of the country because of the disappearance of the native lords and their replacement by foreign hordes:
An uaisle bfhearr chun fin mar leaghadar Is uachtar limhe ag fslaigh shaibhre, Ag fealladh le fonn is foghail gan fachaint Dfheannadh na lobhar is an lom d lirscrios. Is dochrach dubhach mar dhogha gach daoirse Doilbhe dr i ndbhcheilt dlthe An fann gan feidhm n faghaidh inne Ach clampar doimhin is lu chum lirscrios, Falsacht fear dl is fachtna ardnirt, Cam is calaois faill is fabhar, Scamall an dl agus fordhath fannchirt, Dalladh le brb, le fee is le falsacht.
81 82 83 84 85 86 87
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The nobles languish in a foreign land While the jumped-up rich get the upper hand, In betrayal ardent, in plunder greedy Flaying the sick, despoiling the needy. It is blackly baneful and sticks in the craw That, in darkest despair over the absence of law, Theres nothing from no one for the purposeless weak But a depredacious future that is hopelessly bleak, The knavery of lawyers, tyranny on high Injustice, fraud and neglect apply The law is clouded, the scales awry, With all the pull that bribes can buy.
Instead, in Seamus Heaneys words, Merrimans concerns are psycho-sexual rather than national-patriotic. The woes of the country are laid mostly at the feet of the young men who refuse to marry (and of the celibate clergy, a subset of the countrys recalcitrant bachelors). The lively discussion of this topic takes up the major part of the poem and is played out in a Court of Love, the works second major dramatic vehicle. Sen Tuama describes in great detail the European antecedants of this artifice, stretching as it does back into medieval continental times and borrowing also from postElizabethan sources in England. The Midnight Court is, in fact, a Court of Love in the typical West European
mould. Literary parliaments, assemblies and courts were very much in vogue in western Europe between the twelfth and sixteenth centuries. One finds courts of love in Provencal, French and Latin as early as the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Later one comes on them in German, Italian and English. In English, the genre is found in abundance from the time of Chaucer right down to Elizabethan times. (Brian Merriman and His Court, Sen Tuama, pg.
150)
In the Midnight Court, in best Marcia Clark-Johnny Cochrane courtroom style, a young woman presents the case for the prosecution, the defenses rebuttal is in the hands of an old man and the young woman is given the chance for a final re-rebuttal. Aoibheal, the president of the court, then hands down her ruling. The invective is sharp. The young womans opening argument is a tirade about being sexually neglected in spite of her considerable allure. She asks why men marry hags and harridans while she and her contemporaries are left on the shelf. She details the various superstitious rites available to her to attempt to change her fortune:
Norbh il liom codladh go socair aon uair dobh Gan ln mo stoca do thortha faoi mo chluasa, Is deimhin nrbh obair liom troscadh le crifeacht, Is greim n blogam n shlogainn tr trtha, In aghaidh an tsrutha do thumainn mo line, Ag sil tr mo chodladh le cogar mo chile, Is minic do chuaigh m ag scuabadh an staca, Ingne is gruaig faoin luaith-ghros dfhgainn, Chuirinn an tsiste faoi chl an ghabhail, Chuirinn an rmhainn go ciin faoin adhairt chugam, Chuirinn an choigeal i gcilln na hithe, Chuirinn mo cheirtln i dtine aoil Mhic Rghnaill, Chuirinn an ros ar chorp na sride Chuirinn san tsop fm tor cabiste.
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I could never sleep peacefully in my bed Without a sockful of fruit under my head; It was no bother to devoutly fast, Three canonical hours between each repast; Against the current Id wash my clothes In the hopes that a bachelor would propose. Often I would go and sweep out the byre And my nails and hair I would throw in the fire; The flail Id hide in the gables shade By the head of my bed Id place the spade I would put my distaff in the lime kiln Id secrete my yarn-ball in Reynolds mill Id scatter seed on the crown of the street Id stick a head of cabbage beneath the sheet.
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She ends her jeremiad by threatening to use black magic if her luck doesnt soon change.
An old man, memorably christened Snarlygob by Frank OConnor, then jumps up and fierely asserts that she has only herself and her wanton ways to blame for her lack of a mate. Her airs and graces are only a show; behind the facade, she is at heart just a trollop from beggarly stock. He goes on to detail how he himself was betrayed when he was seduced into marrying a young woman who was already pregnant by another man and how his life has gone downhill ever since. When his wife gave birth, the neighbors conspired against him to hide the baby from his scrutiny, asserting the child was sickly because of its premature birth and needed to be kept covered against the cold. Upon finally seeing the baby after much insistence, however, he discovers that it is a healthy boy. There follows a strange segue where the obvious health and vigor of the child prompts the old man, despite being cuckolded himself, to burst into a rhapsody on the benefits of illegitimate fatherhood and the vibrancy of bastards, born as they are from passionate unions.
Is leathanmhar lidir lnmhear ladmhar Fairsing le fil an t-lmhach saor seo. Is minic a fheicimse bromhar borrtha Cumasach lonta i gcro is i gcir iad;
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Many who are strong and altogether fine Sprang from an illegitimate line For love is a lustier sire than creed And produces a healthier, heartier breed
He urges the court to allow couples to mate without the bonds and burdens of matrimony.
Leis-sin n hiarrse a ron rilteach Milleadh meiriad le riail gan ifeacht! Scaoil chodladh gan chochall gan chuibhreach Sol an bhodaigh is an mhogall-fhuil mhaoiteach, Scaoil f chile de rir ndra An solbhach sad is an braon lbrtha, Fgair go filtiil tr na tortha Dg is daosta saorthoil solraigh.
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Please dont subject millions, O Queen of the Sky To a stupid rule with which they must comply Awake to a life without a bond or chain The countrys people, mighty and plain Allow them to be naturally combined Couples from the peasantry and the refined. Throughout the land may a new rule unfold Of sexual freedom for young and for old.
Cuirfidh an dl seo gaois sa nGaeil, Is tiocfaidh an br mar bh ina laochra, Ceapfaidh s com is droim is doirne Ag fir an domhain mar Gholl mac Mirne, Gealfaidh an spir, beidh isc i lonta, Is talamh an tslibhe go lir faoi luibhne, Fir is mn go brch d mhaomh, Ag seinnm do chil le gairdeas aoibhnis.
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This new law will make the Irish proud, The new race will once again be endowed With all the prowess of the heroes of old, The likes of Goll mac Mirne the bold. The sky will brighten, the fish will bite The mountainy land will bloom with no blight Men and women will sing your praise And in joyful celebration their voices raise.
Once again taking the stand, the young woman reviles Snarlygob for his inability to satisfy his young wife and his niggardly treatment of her. In the most erotic part of the poem, she reels off an indignant and marvellously specific list of his inadequacies as a lover and of his wifes attempts to overcome them (Seamus Heaney). She then goes down her own unexpected bywaywhy are there so many fine specimens of men walled off from the likes of her because of priestly celibacy? Girls like her have reason to know (wink, wink) that beneath the clerical facade beat passionate hearts.
Is chonnaic m taibhseach roinn d ramsach Is uimhir d gclainn ar shloinnte falsa.
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Ive seen incontrovertible evidence that many a son Could call a priest a father in more ways than one.
This leads into the Epilogue where Aoibheal hands down her judgment. Most commentators see this as the weakest part of the poem where Merriman seems to run out of gas a bit and has no great answers for the problems he has posed. Aoibheals only specific ruling is a rather conventional one for the genre that men who refuse to marry be tied up and beaten up. As for the celibacy of the clergy, she says she has heard a rumor that the Pope will soon relent (fat chance!) and the hierarchy will come around provided the faithful are not too importunate. To his horror, the bachelor poet is the first condemned under Aoibheals decree and the women of the court swarm over him to exact the punishment. He wakes up and, to his relief, realizes that the whole thing was just a nightmare. In spite of its love-court setting, the idea of romantic love is absent from The Midnight Court. What is celebrated instead is a sort of early version of free love. Gearid
Crualaoich sees in this another of Merrimans twists on the aisling form: It was not to any merely mortal royal liberator that Merriman looked for deliverance for country and people but to the older supernatural female sovereignty of the spirit of the land itself. Thus he seeks to ensure the return and perpetuation of fertility and prosperity for all, not in the restoration of the Stuart or any other line but in the restoration of the primacy of fonn na fola agus fothrom na slinte, the basic, healthy, animal, life instincts of the mature, adult, individual man and woman, free from conventional guilt or shame or repression. In effecting this transformation of the Aisling, Merriman liberates Soveignty or Lovein the person of Aoibheal of Craig Liathfrom its mythological role and brings it into play on the plane of the psychological and the naturalistic. Merriman deliberately chooses to move his Aisling away from this heroic plane, not, however, to indulge the affections but to liberate the psyche in a work that is full and fierce and carnal, and that yet is free of all sentimentality or shame. ("The Vision of Liberation in Cirt an Mhen
Oche, Gearid Crualaoich, pg. 99.)
Crualaoich also attempts an explanation of one of the mysteries of the poem: Why Merriman should see a declining population as one of Irelands main problems at a time when the population was burgeoning to unsustainable levels (at least in the laissez faire economic system so mindlessly followed later by Trevalyan during the Great Famine). Crualaoich suggests that the the demographic situation was in the class-colored eye of the beholder: [I]t was in the ranks of the landless labourers and the cottiers that evidence is found for the most frequent and earliest marriages. With the emergence of class differentiation and the competition for land and other resources, there was a tendency for farmers, tradesmen, the better-off in general to marry later, and there is a sizeable statistic of non-marriage within these groups at the time. The match, the arranged marriage with all its attendant dealing and bargaining and with every shilling brought into account, was starting to become more frequent in the relatively higher social groupings of later eighteenth-century rural Ireland. Merriman, perhaps to be seen as rising socially, certainly moving, at least partially, in the better-off circles would have been aware of this and would have noticed its discouraging effect on young peoples marriage prospects as the increasingly market-oriented and
class-stratified society developed. Such a class-defined mercenary constraint on the easy coupling of the sexes may well be the social reality that lies behind the young womans complaint, which is after all the prime matter regarding which the court of Aoibheal sits. (ibid., pg. 102.) Perhaps. We can, of course, analyze The Midnight Court to death. In the end, it stands or falls as a work of the imagination. Its author ultimately requires no justifications other than those of his own creative impulses for any assertions in the mouths of its characters (ibid., pg. 102.). That it has for so long given so much pleasure to so many, and continues to do so, is vindication enough.
1998: J. Noel Fahey

le/by
Brian Merriman
The Current Version of the Midnight Court

Last year, idly paging through a book entitled 1000 Years of Irish Poetry, I happened on a reprint of Percy Arland Usshers translation of Cirt an Mhen Oche. Most Irish school children of my day (and other days, for all I know) learned, in Irish, the first eighteen or so lines of Cirt an Mhen Oche by heart. These few lines, anthologized in school poetry collections, were presented to us as a complete stand-alone work, a short lyrical piece about the beauty of nature on a fine summers morning (of which Ireland had few enough). There was never a hint in those classrooms that a thousand more lines followed the measly eighteen we were allowed to glimpse nor, even more so, that stuff in the former was a whole lot more complex and more fun than that in the latter, lyrical though the latter may have been. In any case, looking at Ussher's translation with the original of those famous eighteen lines still remembered after these many years, it struck me how weakly the English version had captured the original. I had always been particularly struck by the word-picture of two particular lines (7-8): Ba thaitneamhach aoibhinn suomh na slibhte Ag bagairt a gcinn thar dhroim a chile Ussher translates this as: The hills rear their heads on high Over each other's backs to spy I thought this a disappointingly weak treatment of the original which speaks vigorously of mountains thrusting their heads over each others shoulders. My interest was piqued enough to seek out a copy of the full original poem in Irish
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(which, tellingly, I had never seen) and also others of the several translations I knew existed. I was surprised at how difficult it was to find a copy of one of the most famous works in the Irish language. Even the many translations seemed no longer to be available in print any more. (At the time, I was unaware of Seamus Heaneys 1993 translation; I still dont have a copy of it as I only recently became aware of its existenceand, as it happens, it was a limited edition of only 1,000 copies. Since Heaney titled his translation The Midnight Verdict, it did not show up in database searches for The Midnight Court and neither did a search on Merriman since Heaney, and not Merriman, is identified as the author. Even when I sent an e-mail to Hodges Figgis, Dublins premier bookstore, I was told that there was no translation of the work in print. Obviously the respondent from the store was also fooled by the Midnight Verdict title since I now know that the book actually shows up in the Hodges Figgis on-line catalogue.) There are two recently produced Irish version of the text:
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"Cuirt an mhean-oiche" by Brian Merriman, Text and translation by Patrick C. Power, Cork, Mercier, 1986, 2nd ed, 96p., ISBN 1853422443, text in Irish with parallel translation in English. "Cuirt an mheon-oiche" le Brian Merriman, Liam P. O Murchu a chuir in eagar, Baile Atha Cliath, An Clochomhar, 1982, 117p, text and old translation from the 1820s.
I have not been able to lay my hand on a copy of either of these. I thought it a shame that such an intellectually accessible Irish-language work should be so physically or electronically inaccessible. It was something crying for a presence on the World Wide Web where it would be immediately available to anyone connected to that medium. On the theory that if you want anything done, you may as well do it yourself, I decided why the hell not. Living in the Washington DC area with the inestimable resources of the Library of Congress at hand, I was able to locate a version of the poem in Irish, edited by Riserd
Foghl and published in 1912. The library also had four translations: the Ussher (1926) translation I already had, Frank O'Connor (1945), David Marcus (1953) and Cosslett Cuinn (1979). In putting the poem on the Internet, one thing I was able to do was to imitate what I understand Patrick Power had donea translation side-by-side with the original. That way, people with a little, but by no means fluent Irish, could get a feel for the original as they read through the English version. The first problem in putting this combined Irish/English version of the Midnight Court on the Internet is the fact that the 1912 Irish edition looks quite archaic and forbidding to modern readers of Irish, young ones at least. In the 1950s, the typography and spelling of the language was updated (not necessarily for the better in many peoples eyes). Therefore, in putting the poem on the Internet and making it accessible to modern readers, I needed to update the language. To get an idea as to what this means, take the single word:
in Foghl's text (line 177), it being the present tense form of a verb meaning to go. The t and the g in the middle of this word are silent (the dot over each of the letters is called lenition, simhi in Irishstops being transformed into spirants, but you dont really want to know) and the whole word simplifies down to imonn in the modern version, which looks a lot less formidable (though giving less, nearly no, information about its roots). For a more extended example and picking a couple of lines at random (not quite at random, in fact, since the selection illustrates a couple of points I want to make), the original lines 683 and 684 look like this:
In the current version, this becomes:
In this endeavor, I was not about to edit Merrimans text itself. Outside of the spelling modernization and other minor cosmetic changes (such as, for instance, the elimination of a separate form for the dative case which, in most instances, it is no longer usedchanging grosaigh to grosach in the quoted lines or filling in the lacunae indicated by the inverted comma above, comhartha easnaimh, so that s colann becomes is colainn), the text is unchanged. Translating The Midnight Court If putting the Irish text and English translation side by side on the web was to be a useful exercise, the translation would have to follow the original quite closely for a reader to be able to follow the original from the translation. None of the four translations I had met that testfor instance, the Ussher translation is about 130 shorter than the original; the OCuinn version takes four lines to translate each two of the original, etc. In short, the exigencies of the project called for a new translation (which had the added and considerable benefit of avoiding copyright problems). And that is what is on this site; not a single line is taken from any of the aforementioned translationsactually, I lifted one line (601) from Ussher: For love is a lustier sire than creed, which seemed so well put, I couldnt resist. I worked within a couple of constraints. The translation imitates the original in that it is in rhyming couplets. Furthermore, as far as possible, I kept a one-to-one correspondence between the Irish and English versions where each line in the English text translated its corresponding line in the Irish. This was not always possible; sometimes within a particular couplet, I found it worked better to flip the first and second lines. However, each couplet corresponds exactly to its opposite number so that each two lines in the English translates the corresponding two lines in the Irish. I followed this constraint strictly and there are no exceptions to it throughout the poem although the translation is more literal in some cases than others, depending on what was needed to get across the sense of the original within the constraints adopted. One of the things one quickly finds in this exercise, is that Irish is quite an economical
language in that it can put more ideas in fewer words than English can. Thus, I found that Merriman might have four concepts in a line (in describing a person, for instance) but that I could only get two of them to fit in a line of similar length in English. It was presumably to this fact that Coslett OCuinn formally surrendered in basically using twice the number of lines in English for his translation as are in the Irish original. For myself, I put as many ideas of the original as I could fit in the available space and left it at that. Merriman uses adjectival exuberance in his descriptions of people, whether in praise of the beautiful or in excoriation of the ugly. The head, the face, the neck, the chest, the legs, the fingers and toes, all can become candidates for elaborate, florid description. Sometimes, this becomes the equivalent of a riff in jazz or a cadenza in classical music, parenthetic flourishes where the music of the words counts for more than the meaning they impart. Elaborate alliterative word-play is involved where it is almost impossible, in translation, to convey the effect. Its like a set of equations in mathematics: the more constraints you impose, the harder it is to arrive at a solution. Just to translate the poem into rhyming couplets that make sense is a difficult enough chore; to try to introduce alliterative requirements makes it next to impossible. In fact, I tried it with just one of the passages of this sort:
Mo chuma is mo chr ba bhre san ad Ar lbaire lidir lnmheas ladmhar Shantach shiteach shsta sheasmhach Ramsach rflach rbach rabairneach, Lascaire luaimneach, cuardaitheoir cuimseach, Balcaire buan n buailteoir bromhar, Ach seanduine seanda cranda creimneach, Fmaire fann is feam gan file.
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Bejasus, such jealousy could be understood In a strapping, stout-hearted, sterling stud Panting, pushing, pulsing, preening Roistering, romping, rollicking, riproaring A roving rogue, a sensitive searcher A steadfast stalwart, a topnotch thresher Not in an ossified oldster, a grumpy grunt An incompetent idler, a reclusive runt.
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It can be done but it is an exhausting exercise. One can sympathize with the poets of the bardic schools in Ireland who did this sort of thing for a living and who would lie down in a darkened room for a day and a night striving to come up with the just-right word. Staring at a computer screen rather than into a dark void doesnt make it any easier.
The Glossary As a final aid to students of the language, I have included a glossary. It is extensive (860 definitionswhat great counting powers computers have!for a 1,026-line poem, many of them referring to multiple occurrences) but it is not exhaustive. There is no great rhyme or reason to whether I included a word or not (I think that as I went along through the work, I increasingly realized that the glossary might be a valuable aid and, thus, I became more inclusive) but, generally, I think I have included all the more difficult or unusual words. There are two ways to access the glossary: A single file or a set of files for each letter of the alphabet.
q
The single glossary file is large (62K) and thereby slow-loading, even from the cache. If a reader wants to consult the glossary extensively while reading through the poem, it would be advisable to open the glossary in a separate browser window. This can be done in Windows machines, with either Netscape Navigator or Microsoft Explorer, by holding down the Ctrl key and pressing Nthis is the procedure for version 4 of each of these programs; Im not sure about earlier versions. The glossary can then be loaded in this new windowits located at: http://www.homesteader.com/merriman/glossary.html and the reader can move between the window where the text is and the glossary by holding down the Alt key and pressing the Tab key until the desired window is selected.
A set of individual files for each letter of the alphabet. This is a more sophisticated dictionary system than the single file, making it easier to find individual words. But while each file is smaller than the large single file, the additional functionality means that, in the aggregate, they are largerand the files for the letters c (31K) and s (27K), the two most common initial letters, are quite large in their own right.
Thats it. Enjoy!

1998: J. Noel Fahey
Cirt an Mhen Oche--An Brollach

le/by
Brian Merriman
Foclir Glossary
Cuid a hAon: An Brollach

Silann an file amach leis fin maidin shamhraidh agus castar spirbhean uafsach air. Sracann s ina diaidh trd an lathach go dt Cnoc Mhnmha it a bhfuil cirt stiradh ag Aoibheal, ron lainn na s. Ba ghnth m ar sil le ciumhais na habhann Ar bhinseach r is an drcht go trom, In aice na gcoillte i gcoim an tslibhe Gan mhairg gan mhoill ar shoilseadh an lae. Do ghealadh mo chro nuair chnn Loch Grine, An talamh, an tr, is or na spire Ba thaitneamhach aoibhinn suomh na slibhte Ag bagairt a gcinn thar dhroim a chile. Ghealfadh an cro bheadh cron le cianta Caite gan bhr n lonta le pianta An sithleach searbh gan sealbh gan saibhreas Dfhachfadh tamall thar bharra na gcoillte Ar lachain ina scuain ar chuan gan cheo, An eala ar a bhfuaid is ag gluaiseacht leo, Na hisc le meidhir ag ir anairde Pirse i radharc go taibhseach tarrbhreac, Dath an locha agus gorm na dtonn Ag teacht go tolgach torannach trom, Bhodh anlaith i gcrann go meidhreach mmhar, Limneach eilte i gcoillte im chngar,
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Part One: The Prologue

The poet sets out alone on a summer morning and encounters a fearsome vision woman. She drags him through the mud to Monmoy Hill where a court is sitting presided over by Aoibheal, a beautiful fairy queen. Twas my custom to stroll with the river in view Through the fresh meadows covered with dew, By the edge of the woods on the wild mountainside At the dawn of the day Id cheerfully stride. My heart would brighten Loch Graney to spy, And the country around it, to the edge of the sky. The serried mountains were a delight to the beholder Thrusting their heads over each others shoulder. Twould lighten the heart wizened with years Triflingly spent or drenched with tears Of the bitter outcast without wealth or goods To catch a glimpse oer the top of the woods Of the ducks paddling by in the pellucid bay, Escorting the swan on her stately way, Of the fish in joyous arching flight And of the perch, a speckled spritely sight, Of the blue surging swell on the tinted lake Crashing ashore with a thunderous quake, Of the birds in the trees merrily singing, While the deer through the woods are nimbly springing,
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http://www.showhouse.com/prologue.html (1 of 5)17/06/2011 13:27
Gimneach adharc is radharc ar shlite, Tranrith gadhar is Reynard rompu. Ar maidin inn bh an spir gan cheo, Bh Cancer, n ngrin, ina caortha teo Is gafa chun saothair tar is na hoche Is obair an lae sin roimpi snte. Bh duillir craobh ar ghaga im thimpeall, Feorainn is far ina slaoda taobh liom, Glasra fis is blth is luibheannna Scaipfeadh le fn d chriteacht smaointe. Do bh m cortha is an codladh dom thraochadh, Do shn m tharam ar cothrom sa bhfar ghlas In aice na gcrann i dteannta trnse, Taca lem cheann is mo hanla snte. Ar cheangal mo shl go dlth le chile, Greamaithe dnta i ndghlas nalta, Is maghaidh agam folaithe ar chuileanna go ssta I dtaidhbhreamh dfhulaing m an cuilithe crite Do chorraigh do lom do pholl go hae m Im chodladh go trom gan mheabhair gan irim. Ba ghairid mo shuan nuair chuala, shl m, An talamh mguaird ar luascadh im thimpeall Anfa aduaidh is fuadach fochmhar Is caladh an chuain ag tuargain tinte; Siolla de mo shil dar shamhlaos uaim Chonnaic m chugam le ciumhas an chuain An mhsach bholgach tholgach thaibhseach Chnmhach cholgach ghairgeach ghaibhdeach; A hairde ceart, m mheas me dreach, S n seacht do shlata is fulleach, Pirse beacht d brat ag sraoilleadh Li sa tslab le drab is draoibeal.
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To see the huntsmen with bugles blaring, As after Reynard the hounds are tearing Yesterday morning, no clouds in the sky, Presaged another hot day in July; Up came the sun after a rest for the night, To her days work, making all nature bright. With treeleaves rustling overhead And grass and ferns before me spread, The expanse of flowers would cheer the soul And lighten thoughts however dole. Totally fagged and dying to sleep, I lay down where the grass was deep Beside a rill, with trees about A support for my head and my feet stretched out. On shutting my eyes to go to sleep, Locking them tight in slumber deep, My face protected from the flies, A dream caused me to agonize To shake, to chafe my psyche deep In my senseless, helpless sleep. Short was my sleep when I heard, thought I, A violent quaking of the ground nearby A storm from the north violently brewing And fire from the harbour luridly spewing; In my minds eye, a quick survey Revealed towards me by the bay A violent, bulging, big-assed crone Her huge bulk hinting at testosterone; Her stature, if I reckoned right, Was six or seven yards in height She dragged her cloak for yards behind her Through the mud and mire and squalor.
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Ba mhr ba mhadhair ba fiin le fachaint Suas ina hadan crachtach creimeach, Ba anfa ceantair, scanradh saolta, A draid is a drandal mantach mirscreach. A r gach m! ba lidir lofa A boma limhe is lnstaf inti Comhartha pris ina bharr ar spce Is cumhachta bille in airde air scrofa. Adirt go dorrga dfhocla dna: Mscail! Corraigh! a chodlataigh ghrnna; Is dubhach do shl bheith snte i do shliasta Is cirt ina su is na mlte ag triall ann; N cirt gan acht gan reacht gan riail N cirt na gcreach mar chleacht t riamh An chirt seo ghluais shluaite simhe Cirt na dtrua na mbua is na mbithe. Is mr le maomh ar sholra ibhir Uaisle s mar shuodar daonghuth Dh l is oche ar bhinn an tslibhe I bpls bhuionmhar Bhruon Mh Grine. Is daingean do ghoill s ar shoilse an r Is ar mhaithe a theaghlaigh thaibhsigh s, Is ar uimhir na bune bh ina ndil Mar dimigh gach dth ar chrocha Fil Gan sealbh gan saoirse ag solrach seanda, Ceannas a ndl n cos n ceannfoirt, Scriosadh an tr is nl ina ndiaidh In ionad na luibheanna ach floch is fiaile; An uaisle bfhearr chun fin mar leaghadar Is uachtar limhe ag fslaigh shaibhre, Ag fealladh le fonn is foghail gan fachaint Dfheannadh na lobhar is an lom d lirscrios. Is dochrach dubhach mar dhogha gach daoirse Doilbhe dr i ndbhcheilt dlthe
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Twas mighty, majestic, wild and horrid To gaze upon her blemished forehead; The rictus of her gummy grin Would make you jump out of your skin. God almighty! In her huge claw Was the biggest staff you ever saw A brass plaque at its spike defined The bailiffs powers to her assigned. In a gruff voice these words she spoke: Up! Shake a leg! ya sleepy yoke; Shame on you, to be stretched out here With court convened and crowds drawing near. Its not a court without rule or code. Nor a marauding court in your usual mode This court is built on a civilized base The court of the weak with a female face. Its indeed a great boast for Irelands seed That to sit in court the fairy lords agreed For two days and a night holding forth On top of the mount, in Moy Graney fort. Intense is the grief of the spectral lord, Of his spritely households noble horde And all of the others assembled there At the scale of Irelands disrepair The ancient race without wealth or liberty No tributes, leaders nor legal autonomy The rape of the land with naught in its train, In place of the crops, a weed-rank terrain; The nobles languish in a foreign land While the jumped-up rich get the upper hand, In betrayal ardent, in plunder greedy Flaying the sick, despoiling the needy. It is blackly baneful and sticks in the craw That, in darkest despair over the absence of law,
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An fann gan feidhm n faghaidh inne Ach clampar doimhin is lu chun lirscrios, Falsacht fear dl is fachtna ardnirt, Cam is calaois faill is fabhar, Scamall an dl agus fordhath fannchirt, Dalladh le brb, le fee is le falsacht. Farradh gach for, is fuoll nor fgadh, Dearbhadh dble ar Bhobla an l san Cis dar ndigh n geobhaidh t saor trd, Cn na hige d feo le faolras Is easnamh daoine suite ar ire Do mheath led chuimhne an solrach daonna; Is folamh is is trite fgadh tortha, An cogadh is an bs gan sps d ndogadh, Uabhar na rthe is ar imigh thar sile Nuair n deineann sibh tuilleadh ina n-it dobh. Is nir dbhur n-iomad gan siorrach gan solrach Is mn ina muirear ar muir is ar tortha, Connsa chorpartha is borraca ga, Is bonsa bhrothallach fola agus feola, Listigh liosta agus leigith shsta Is mrgaigh shioscaithe dimigh i bhsta; Is trua gan toircheas stollair den tsort seo, Is trua gan trmach brollaigh is bta iad, Is minic iad ullamh an focal d bhfaighids Ag titim d mogaill is molaimse a bhfoighne. Is cinneadh le saoithe i gcroch na comhairle In ionad na daoirse dinsint dibh sin: Duine den bhuon seo, lon a gcumhachta,
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Theres nothing from no one for the purposeless weak But a depredacious future that is hopelessly bleak, The knavery of lawyers, tyranny on high Injustice, fraud and neglect apply The law is clouded, the scales awry, With all the pull that bribes can buy. Along with the restand all was debated An indictment was entered and that day dated, A charge that you cannot easily refute: The wizening celibacy among your youth, The consequent lack of people in Ireland And the decline in population on this island; The land left empty and in decline Wrecked by war, by death and rapine The kings with gumption who have gone overseas Have not been replaced by new inductees. Your race without young ones is sad to see With women burdening the land and the sea, Once buxom maids and lasses fresh With boiling blood and sultry flesh Are now lethargic, relicts debased Once trim girls are gone in the waist; Tis a pity that these are without fruit of the womb Without swelling breasts and bellies in bloom. They just look for the word, please dont wait Until they are past their sell-by date. The solons decided after deliberation long Not to try the case before the fairy throng: But to appoint a plenipotent magistrate
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Ar thitim don dsle, suomh i bhFla. Tairgeann Aoibheal cro gan chlaoin-bheart, Cara na Muimhneach, s-bhean Lithchraig, Scaradh le saoithe s na slua seo Scaitheamh do scaoileadh daoirse i dTuamhumhain. Gheall an mhonla chaoinis chir seo Falsacht dl do chlo go cumhachtach, Seasamh i dteannta fann is faonlag Is caithfidh an teann bheith ceansa tlith libh, Caithfidh an neart gan cheart seo strocadh Is caithfidh an ceart ina cheart bheith suite; Geallaimse anois nach clis n cumhachta, Cairdeas Miss n Pimp ina comhalta Shilfas trd an dl seo de ghnth Is a gcirt ina su ag an solrach neamhdha; T an chirt seo seasmhach feasta sa bhFiacail, Siilse, is freagair , caithfidh t triall ann Siil gan tafann go tapa ar do phriacal, Siil! n stracfad sa lathaigh im dhiaidh th! Do bhuail s crca im chl san chba Is ghluais chun siil go lbach lidir, Sciob li sos m tr na gleannta, Cnoc Mhnmha is go binn an teampaill.
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Who could, with the people, mediate. There was an offer from Aoibheal, with a heart so clean Munstermens friend and Cragleas queen To the assembled council to bid farewell And in the land of Thomond to bide a spell. This gentle upright lady swore To rip out bad laws by their core To stand steadfast beside the poor and weak So the mighty will have to cherish the meek. The powerful desist from inflicting wrongs And justice enthroned where it belongs: I promise now that no power nor lure, Nor the blandishments of pimp or whore Will undermine the dispensation Of this tribunal for its duration; The village of Feakle is where the court is sitting Go and attend ityouve got to get cracking Go quietly or at your peril dire Ill drag you there through the muck and mire. With her crook she grabbed the hood of my cape And off she dragged me with no escape Down through the valleys I was propelled To Moinmoy Hill church where the court was held.
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Deireadh leis an mBrollach

Ar Aghaidh go Cuid a D
End of the Prologue

On To Part Two
Fill ar ais ar Chlr Chinn na Cirte/ Return to the Midnight Court Main Page
Cirt an Mhen Oche--Cuid a D

le/by
Brian Merriman
Foclir Glossary
Cuid a D: An Ainnir
Labhraonn bean g le maithe na cirte i dtaobh a cuid trioblide: nach bhfuil fir ga na tre ag psadh agus, mar sin, go bhfuil s gan chile. Is deimhin go bhfaca m ar lasadh le tirs An teaghlach taitneamhach maiseamhach mrtach Soilseach seasmhach lannil lomrach Taibhseach taitheacach daingean dea-dhirseach, Chonnaic m an tsbhean mhonla bhasach Chumais ina su ar bhnse an tsaoirchirt Chonnaic m garda lidir luaimneach Iomadil arrthach tarraingthe suas li, Chonnaic m lithreach lnteach lonta mhullach go lr de mhn is de dhaoine, Chonaic m spirbhean mhaorga mhallruisc Mhilisbhog bhaltais mharlag mhealltach Thaithneamhach shsta thclach fhionn Ina seasamh in airde ar chlr na mionn. Bh a gruaig li scaoilte sos go slaodach Is buaireamh suite for ina fachaint, Fuinneamh ina radharc is faghairt ina sile Is fiuchadh le draighean oilc aighnis ftha; A caint d cosc le loscadh clibhe; Gan gog ina tost acht tocht d traochadh, Do bfhurasta a r gur bs ba rogha li Is tuile gan tls ag tl go trom li,
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Part Two: The Young Woman

A young woman there tells the court of her troubles: that she is without a mate because of the refusal of the young men of the country to marry.
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For sure, I saw there ablaze with light What seemed like a stately mansion bright Sparkling, spacious, tapestried, Spectral, sturdy, brilliant indeed I spied Aoibheal, the fairy wench Seated on the judges bench I saw a strong and nimble guard Numerously gathered round their ward; I saw a household that was jammed With men and women inside it crammed. Then came forward a majestic cailn She was soft and comely, of gentle mien With tumbling tresses framing her face As on the stand she took her place. Her hair was loose and flowing free But her face was the picture of misery Her eyes were fierce and filled with hate And she worked herself to such a state That she moaned and heaved and sobbed and sighed But couldnt speak though hard she tried. You could see from the flood of tears she shed That shed much prefer if she were dead
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Ina seasamh ar lr an chlir ina saighead Is ag greadadh na lmh is ag fscadh a ladhar. An uair do ghoil s folctha fochmhar Is dfhuascail osna gotha cainte Dimigh an smit is diompaigh snua uirthi Thriomaigh s a gnis is dirt mar inseoidh m: Mle filte is gairdeas clibh romhat, A Aoibheal, a fhidhbhean rsa on Lithchraig, A soilse an lae is a r gan choimse, A shaibhreas shaolta i ngibhinn daoirse A cheannasach bhuach shluaite an aoibhnis, Ba easnamh crua th i dTuamhumhain is i dTr Luirc; S tis mo chis is fth mo chaointe Cis do chrigh m is dfhg me claoite Bhain dem threoir m is sheol gan chiall m, Is chaith mar cheo m dite i bpianta, Na sluaite imonn gan chroch gan chaomhn Ar fud an tsaoil seo dfhorscoth bithe Ina gcailleacha dubha gan cumhdach cile Caite gan cl gan cionnta claoin-bheart. Is aithnid dom fin sa mhad seo shilas Bean agus cad nr mhian leo a dhiltadh Is mise in a measc mo chreach mar timse Dimigh im spaid gan fear gan phiste. Mo dhochar mo dh mo bhrn mar bhm Gan sochar gan s gan seod gan sth, Go doilbhir duaiseach duamhar dothach Gan codladh gan suan gan suairceas oche, Ach maslaithe i mbuairt gan suaimhneas snte Ar leaba leamh-fhuar dr suathadh ag smaointe.
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Than being on the floor facing the stands Kneading her fists and wringing her hands. After her protracted jags of crying She cleared her throat, with much sighing The gloom lifted from her tear-stained cheek, She dried her eyes and started to speak:
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A thousand welcomes, we guarantee O Aoibheal, venerable queen of Craiglea, Light of the day, Ray of the sun Worldly wealth for the hard-put-upon Conquering commander of the hosts of the blessed In Thomond and Tr Lorc you were sorely missed; The crux of my case, the cause of my woe The ache that has plagued me and laid me low What knocked me sideways and struck me dumb Caused a searing pain that left me numb, The finest of maidens wandering around Without hope of a husband, a shilling or pound, Despondent young things without help of a mate Innocently barred from the matrimonial state. I know these maidens whereof I speak One hundred and one for whom prospects are bleak I list myself among these wrecks: I got my gender but I get no sex At my time of life, tis depressing and cold Doing without luxuries, jewels and gold, Gloomy and cheerless is my plight Unable to sleep through the pleasureless night, But tossed with worry lying there On a chilly bed, alone not a pair.
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A chidh na Carraige breathain go bogach Mn na Banba in anacair suite, Ar ns m leanann siad na fir d bhfuadar ch, mo lagar! ach caithfimidne a bhfuadach. S am gur mhian leo cile phsadh An t-am gur dhirc le hinne gabhil leo! An t-am nr bhfi bheith fthu snte Na seandaigh thamhanda shite chlote. D dtiteadh amach le teas na hige Duine fn seacht ar theacht fasige Ceangal le bean, n mntais thoghfaidh Thaitneamhach shuite de shol n dfhoghlaim, Cl-dheas chaoin n monla mhnla A mbel di su n teacht do lthair, Ach doineantach odhar n donn doilosach Do chruinnigh le doghrainn cabhair nach cu di! S chr mo chro is do scaoil gan chiall m Is dfhg mo smaointe is mintinn traochta Trite tinn mar tim, go trithlag, Crite clote ag ca is ag garghol, Nuair a fheicim preabaire calma croil Fuadrach fearil barril bromhar Stuama feasach seasmhach saoithiil Gruaidhdheas greannmhar geanil gnaoidhil, N buachaill bastallach beachanta brigdheas Cruaidhcheart ceanasach ceapaithe crach Buaite ceannaithe ceangailte psta Ag fuaid ag cailleach ag amaid n ag inmhid, N ag suairtle salach de chaile gan tionscal, Stuacach stalcach aithiseach stangach Suaiteach sotalach foclach fidhiil Cuardach codlatach gairgeach griniil. Mo chreach is mo lot! T molt mbhasach,
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O Lady of Craiglea, you must assess The extent of Irish womens distress, How, if the men continue with their ways, Alas, women will have to make the plays By the time the men are disposed to wed Theyre no longer worth our while to bed And itll be no fun to lie below Those old men who are so weak and slow. Even if, with a young mans fire, One in seven of the beardless were to desire To mate with a lass of his own age He wouldnt choose the noble or sage With an hour-glass figure and a knockout face One who can carry herself with grace But an icy, cheerless, catty bitch Who used all her guile to make herself rich. Its the scourge of my heart and a pain in my head And fills my thoughts with a sense of dread Its what has made me sad and sighing Totally wasted with all this crying, When I see a lad whos brave and cool Who is virile, vigorous and strong as a mule Who is steadfast, skillful, bright as a pin Fresh-faced, funny, with a ready grin Or a boy who is frisky, frolicky, fun With a well-built body, second to none Beaten, bought, bound unawares By a hussy whos extremely light upstairs Or a slovenly slattern, a workless wench Whod make you gag with her noisome stench A prating, prattling, babbling bag An indolent, irritable, horrible hag. My God, I hear that an ill-mannered mare
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Caile na gcos is folt gan riteach, D ceangal anocht is loisc go lir m, Is c bhfuil mo locht nach dtoghfa m roimpi? Crad an t-bhar n tabharfa gr dom Is m chomh leabhair, chomh modhil chomh bre seo? Is deas mo bhal, mo dhad is mo ghire, Is geal mo ghn, is t madan tlth tais, Is glas mo shil, t murla scineach Bachallach bclach cplach finneach, Mo leaca is mo ghis gan smit gan mchail Tarraingthe cumtha lonrach scfar Mo phob, mo bhrid, mo lmha, mo mhara, Ag sorbhreith barr na hille chile. Fach mo chom! Nach leabhair mo chnmha, Nl m lom n crom n stgach, Seo toll is cosa is colann nach nir liom Is an togha go socair f chover n trchtaim. N suairtle caile n sreangaire mn m Ach stuaire cailce t taitneamhach bre deas, N sraoill n slaid n luid gan fscadh N smste duirc gan sult gan ssamh, Listeach lofa n toice gan ifeacht, Ach gbhean scotha chomh tofa is is fidir. D mbeinnse silte mar tuilleadh de mo chomharsana, Leadhbach liosta gan tuiscint gan eolas, Gan radharc, gan ghliceas in imirt mo chra, Mo threighid! cr mhisde m rith in adchas? N fhacthas fs m i gcngar daoine, Ag faire n ag trramh g n crona, Ar mhachaire an bhire an ris n na rince, I bhfarradh na dtinte ar bnta lonta,
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With unshod feet and uncombed hair Is to be hitched tonight which I find really grating; Whats wrong with me that Im left here waiting? What is the reason that no one loves me And I so lissome, so svelt and so lovely? My lips so red are made to be kissed My face so bright it cannot be missed My eyes are green, my locks are flowing Curly and plaited and healthily glowing My forehead and cheeks are without zits or boils A porcelain complexion that nothing spoils. My neck, my breast, my hand, my finger Each would make a young lad linger. Look at my waist, my fine bone frame Im not crooked or hunched or lame A butt, a foot, a figure to impress Ill not go into whats beneath my dress. Im not a hussy, nor yet a drip But a delicate beauty with lots of zip, Not a slovenly, slatternly pig Nor a joyless boorish prig. Not a lazy laggard with no clout But a choice young woman well turned out If I were as worthless as some of my neighbours A tiresome tramp who never labours In the ways of the world without foresight or flair What would it matter if I fell into despair? But it has never been on peoples tongue That, at wake or funeral for old or young, In the hall for the dances or at the race track On the hurling pitch among the pack
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Ach gafa go smh gan chim ar domhan I gculaith shsta bharr go bonn. Beidh a cheart im chl de phdar fillte, Starch is stiir i gcl mo chaidhpe, Hda geal gan ceal ribn Gna breac is a cheart ruffa leis; Is annamh go brch gan fsil aerach Thaitneamhach bhre le mo cherdn craorag, Is an ioma luibheanna craobh is anlaith Ar maprn sogach roga cambric; Sla cumtha cnga crach Arda sleamhaine ar screw faoi mo bhrga, Bcla is finn is limhne soda, Fonsa brislid is lsa daora. Seachain, n sl gur sceinnteach scfar, Amaid gan ghaois n naondacht nireach Eaglach uaigneach uallach fhiin m, Gealtach gan ghuais gan stuaim gan tagar; I bhfolach n rachainnse radharc na gcadta, Is ceannasach taibhseach maghaidh agus madan, Is dearfa bhm dom shorthaispenadh Ar mhachaire mhn gach foriomna, Ag rince, ag bire, rs is radaireacht, Tinte cnmh is rfla is ragairne, Ag aonach margadh is Aifreann Domhnaigh, Ag ileamh breathnaithe, ag amharc gach togha fir. Chaitheas mo chiall le fiach gan ifeacht, Dhalladar riamh m, diaighdear mae ionam. Tar is mo chumainn, mo thurraing, mo ghr dibh, Tar is ar fhulaing m diomad crnais, Tar is ar chailleas le caitheamh na scla, Bithe balbha is cailleacha crta.
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I wasnt dressed from head to toe In a tasty costume fit for a show. My hair is powdered to a T My starched cap riding jauntily My bright-hued hood with ribbons galore A polka dress with a ruffled pinafore And Im seldom without it, except in bed, My cardinal cloak of deepest red. My striped cambric apron is fit for a queen Embroidered with a plant and animal scene Stiletto heels attached with screws Give a lift to my fashionable shoes Gloves of silk and buckles and rings These are a few of my favourite things. But beware, dont think Im loose a screw A witless fool or quaking ingenue Whos timorous, lonesome, whimpering, weak A simpering, cowering, beaten-down freak. I will not go and hide from the crowd, For my face is imperious, noble and proud And I can assure you Im always displayed On the level pitch where games are played At dances, races and masquerades Round bonfires, at raffles and parades At Sunday Mass and in market squares Sashaying before males, inviting their stares. But Im at my wits end in the mating mart Ive nothing to show for it but a broken heart. After all that effort, after all my flirtation After all Ive suffered in aggravation After all the times my fortune was read By toothless prognosticators looking ahead
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Nl cleas d mbfhidir lamh n trcht air Le teacht na r n tar is bheith ln di, Um Inid n um Shamhain n ar shil na bliana N tuigim gur leamhas bheith ag sil le ciall as. Norbh il liom codladh go socair aon uair dobh Gan ln mo stoca de thortha faoi mo chluasa, Is deimhin nrbh obair liom troscadh le crifeacht, Is greim n blogam n shlogainn tr trtha, In aghaidh an tsrutha do thumainn mo line, Ag sil tr mo chodladh le cogar mo chile, Is minic do chuaigh m ag scuabadh an staca, Ingne is gruaig faoin luaith-ghros dfhgainn, Chuirinn an tsiste faoi chl an ghabhail, Chuirinn an rmhainn go ciin faoin adhairt chugam, Chuirinn an choigeal i gcilln na hithe, Chuirinn mo cheirtln i dtine aoil Mhic Rghnaill, Chuirinn an ros ar chorp na sride Chuirinn san tsop chugam tor cabiste. Nl cleas acu sid d ndras lithreach N hagraonn cnamh an deamhain is a bhrthar, S fth mo scil go lir is a bhr dhuit Mar tim gan chile tar is mo dhchill, Fth mo sheanchais fhada, mo phianchreach, Tim in achrann dhaingean na mblianta, Ag tarraing go tran ar laethanta liatha Is eagal liom ag gan inne dom iarraidh. A Pharla Pharrthas screadaim is glaoim ort, iric manama ort, aitim th is im ort, Seachain n scaoil m im shraoill gan aird N im chailleach gan chroch gan bhr gan bhlth, Gan chara gan chlann gan chom gan chairde
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Theres not a stroke that can still amaze, From the waxing moon to its waning phase From Shrove Tuesday to All Saints Night, By making sense of my dispiriting plight. I could never sleep peacefully in my bed Without a sockful of fruit under my head; Twas surely no bother to devoutly fast, Three canonical hours between each repast; Against the current Id wash my clothes In the hopes that a bachelor would propose. Often I would go and sweep out the byre And my nails and hair I would throw in the fire; The flail Id hide in the gables shade By the head of my bed Id place the spade I would put my distaff in the lime kiln Id secrete my yarn-ball in Reynolds mill Id scatter seed on the crown of the street Id stick a cabbage beneath the sheet. From my recital its clear I dont miss a trick To see if I could get help from Old Nick But the end of my story, the result of my tale In spite of my efforts Ive still got no male. And whats really painful and makes me gasp Is how firmly Im in the calendars grasp; With grey old age rushing towards me undaunted Im terrified Ill die alone and unwanted. Pearl of Paradise, please hear my prayers Have mercy, I beg you, and lighten my cares Be sure not to leave me a neer-to-be wife With a mateless, meaningless, loveless life Without friends or family, a roof oer my head
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Ar theallacha draighin gan feidhm gan filte. Dar a fuil uimpi tinte is toirneach! Dalladh m suite maoite im inmhid, Sealbh gach s ag rogha gach dogha, Is ag ainnibh na Fla os comhair mo shl. T somach ag Saidhbh go saibhir smhach, Muirinn i meidhir is a haghaidh ar a nuachar, Mr is Mairsile i macnas mchta, Is mrchuid magaidh orthu ag fachnaoid fmsa; Is giodamach smh Slinge, is Sle Sisile is ine is l ina dtimpeall, Tuilleadh mar t siad de mhn na tre Is mise mar tim gan tl gan tsolrach. Is fada gan feidhm is foighne domsa , Lagar dom le is mo leigheas im chumhachta Maille le luibhne dbl dreoite Is ortha draochta chlofeas fs dom Buachaill deas n gas galnta Bhuaifeas ceart a shearc is a ghr dhom. Do chonnaic m go leor den tsrt d dhanamh Is chuirfinn i gcir na cngar channa; Is daingean an cnamh ag dbailt daoine Greamanna dlla is pdar lubhne, Magairln meidhreach, meill na mbuailte, Taithign taibhseach, toill na tuairte, Mealladh na minseach, claomh na mbonsach, An cumainnn bu is an draocht chun drise. Duillir dite ar ns gur rn , Is tuilleadh den tsrt nach cir a mhineadh. Do biontas mr i dTuamhumhain le chile An bhruinneall seo thuas ag buachan cile;
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Depending on strangers for my daily bread. By the thunder and the lightning in the sky It proves me a fool, my life gone awry That, in front of my face, Irelands biggest bitches Are wallowing in wealth and reveling in riches Saive snared a sucker with silver to spare Muireann makes merry in her lovers lair Mr and Mairsile wench wantonly And all of them make a mockery of me Slaney and Shiela sparkle and glitter Cecily and Anne each have their litter There are others like them throughout the land While milkless and childless before you I stand. Ive been powerless but patient for far too long I can overcome my weakness and right this wrong: Potions from dried-up herbs Ill wring Over which magic incantations Ill sing. That should snare a strapping young chap Whom, in a web of love, I will trap. Tis many I have seen who play this game Watch out! Im about to do the same Its a great help for coupling, so they allege To mix crushed apples and powdered veg The purple orchid is an aphrodisiac With mandrakes root I will attack And other plants that I cannot name Ill use with great relish in this ballgame Theres the top secret about leaves that are burned And other like intrigues that cannot be learned. You know it took all Thomond by surprise When a certain old nobody caught her prize
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Is dinis s domsa, ar ndigh, tr rn, Um Inid is psta bhord na Samhna Nr ibh is nr l ach an feoithneach fionn Is cuillibh na mna dite ar lionn. Is fada m ag foighneamh, faighimse fuascailt, Seachain ar mhoill m, saighead chun luais ; Muna bhfuil leigheas dom threighid i do chuairtse Cuirfidh m faghairt i bhfeidhm ms crua dom.
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She told me howin confidence, indeed That from Shrove to Samhain (when to wed he agreed) She had drunk no wine nor ate no bread But lived on a diet of burnt spiders instead. So, Ive long been waiting; Im changing my fate Dont try to stop me, when Im out of the gate. If, from your visit, a resolution doesnt appear Then its on to Plan B and Im outta here.
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Deireadh do Chuid a D
Ar Aghaidh go Cuid a Tr
End of Part Two

On To Part Three
Cirt an Mhen Oche--Cuid a Tr

le/by
Brian Merriman
Foclir Glossary
Cuid a Tr: An Seanfhear

Preabann seanfhear anuas le freagra a thabhairt ar an gbhean. Deir s gur ar shaol mgheanmna na mn ga fin an millen go bhfuil siad i gcruachs. Cuireann s sos ar a phsadh fin agus faoi mar a bh an bhrdeach torrach fhear eile i ngan fhios d. (D ainneoin sin, molann s leana tabhartha go hard nos dana mar chuid den imp aige ar Aoibheal deireadh a chur leis an bpsadh.) Preabann anuas go fuadrach fochmar Seanduine suarach is fuadach nimhe faoi, A bhaill ar luascadh is luas anile air, Draighean is duais ar fud a chnmha. Ba dhearil an radharc go deimhin don chirt Ar bord ina thaibhse im isteacht dirt s: Dochair is dobhil is sorchr clibhe ort A thoice le mstaid, a shol gbha is dirce, Is digh nach iontas laigeacht na grine Is fs gach tubaist dar imigh ar ire, Mar mheath gach ceart gan reacht gan dl againn, r mba bh bleacht gan lacht gan laonna acu, Is d dtagadh nos m de mhrscrios tortha Is gach faisean d nuacht ar Mhir is ar Shle. A thoice gan chroch nach cuimhin le tinte Olcas na solrach daoine dtngais, Gan focal le maomh ag do shinsear grnna Ach lopaigh gan bhr, lucht mre is mla. Is aithnid dinne an snamhaire is athair duit, Gan chara gan chl gan chl gan airgead,
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Part Three: The Old Man

Up jumps an old man to answer the young woman. He blames the dissolute life of young women for the predicament in which they find themselves. He recounts the circumstances of his own marriage at the time of which and unknown to him, his bride was pregnant by another. (In spite of this cuckoldry, he later praises bastards highly as part of his plea to Aoibheal to end the institution of marriage.) Then fiercely jumped up a grey old dodger 358 There was fire in the eyes of that greasy codger 359 His limbs were shaking, his breathing wild 360 It was clear that he was thoroughly riled. 361 He glared at the court with a look inflamed 362 And, in my hearing, he then declaimed: 363 I wish you naught but damage and hurt 364 You miserable hussy, descended from dirt 365 I suppose its no wonder the sun is weak 366 And that Irelands lot is unbelievably bleak 367 Our rights are gone, the laws a laugh 368 Our cows, once fertile, without milk or calf. 369 Its no great surprise about the countrys woes 370 With Mr and Sle sporting the latest clothes. 371 Youre an absolute transcendental bitch 372 Everyone knows you were born in a ditch 373 Your ugly ancestors cant boast of their blood 374 Theyre aimless louts, sprung from the mud. 375 Everyone knows your fathers a creep 376 Without friends or fame, common and cheap
Ina leibide liath gan chiall gan mhineadh, Gan mheadar gan mhias gan bhia gan anlann, Gan faic ar a dhroim is a chabhail gan chta, Ach gad ar a choim is a bhonn gan bhrga. Creidig, a dhaoine, d ndolta ar aonach Eisean is a bhuon tar is oc gach ileamh, Dar colainn na naoimh ba dcheall mr d
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A grey old yo-yo with no erudition 378 Without cup or bowl, racked with malnutrition, 379 Not a stitch his back, no coat on his body 380 A sgn for a belt, his footwear shoddy.
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Believe me, people, if he was sold at the fair 382 Of all of his debts he couldnt take care 383 By the saints who are holy, twould make the news 384 If he then could afford a bottle of booze. Pota maith d lena fhuollach dfhuascailt. Nach mr an t-bhacht is an gleo i measc daoine 385 Its a cause of merriment, both loud and deep 386 That a reject like you, with no cows or sheep Truaire de do shrt gan bh gan chaoirigh, 387 Sports buckles on your shoes, a fancy silk frock Bcla i do bhrga is clicn soda ort, 388 And a protecting scarf the wind to block. Is ciarsir pca ag gabhil na gaoithe ort! 389 You dazzle the whole world with your face Do dhallais an saol go lir le do thaibhse, 390 But I know for a fact youre for a bloody Is is aithnid dom fin t i dtaobh le coife disgrace. 391 Your mendacitys so clear, its hard to address Is deacair dom labhairt, do lom is lir dhom, 392 Your back is a stranger to a decent dress Is fada do dhroim gan chabhair n line; 393 But that deficiency, no one believes Is togha drochduine do thuigfeadh ina g th 394 Its hidden with ruffs and cambric sleeves. Is feabhas do rufa le do mhuinchille cimric. 395 Canvas as a waist binder is low in price T canbhs saor chun sraod go bhsta 396 And maybe its stays thats the flattening device. Is c bhfios don tsaol nach stays do do fhscadh? 397 The world spies your rings and fringes of gauze Feiceann an tr ort frnse is finne 398 While your gloves cover up the dirt on your Is ceileann do lamhne gros is gga. paws. 399 But tell the court, or I myself will reveal, Ach aithris ar bord, n inseoidh m fin , 400 How long since youve had a drink with your An fada nr l t deoir le do bhile? meal 401 You miserable slob with the dirty feet A chonnartaigh bhoicht na gcos gan ionladh, 402 Unseasoned Bucks arent much of a treat Dchas id chorp le Bucks gan anlann Is furasta dar liom dod chl bheith taibhseach, Do chonnac lem shile an chil ina luonn t; Garbh n mn n sntear ft ann, Barrach n lon dr snomhadh le tuirne,
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Its plain to me why you should hang your head 404 I saw with my own eyes where you make your bed 405 With no sheet beneath you, either fine or rough 406 Spun on a wheel from even the coarsest stuff
Ach mata ina smoirt gan chuilt gan chldach, Dealbh gan luid gan phluid gan tssa, I gcomhar bothin gan it chun su ann Ach siche silein is pscadh anos ann, Fiaile ag teacht go fras gan chuimse Is rian na gcearc air trasna scrobtha, Lag ina dhroim is na gabhla ag lbadh Is clagarnach dhonn go trom ag tuirlingt. A chumainn na bhfidhithe! nach ard do labhair s! Gustalach glbha grthach gabhann s I ndathanna i gcir is i gclca soda, Faire go deo orthu! fill, cr frth ? Aithris c bhfuair t an radharc seo mhaonn t, Is aithris cr thuill t an leadhb gan bhr seo; Is deacair a shuomh gur frth go cir iad Is gairid bh t gan sol an orlaigh. Aithris c bhfuair t luach na hda, Is aithris c bhfuair t luach do ghna, Ach leagaimid uainn cr ghluais an cta, Is aithris c bhfuair t luach na mbrga. A Aoibheal cheanasach charthannach chumhachtach, Gum th, gairim th, freagair is fir m, Is for gur feasach m forair Fla Suite greamaithe ag sladaithe den tsrt seo. Dar limh mo chara! is aithnid dom comharsa Limh le baile agam, gairid do chngar, Buachaill soineanta sruimile saonta Ar buaileadh duine acu chuige mar nuachar. Is searbh lem chro nuair a fheicim im radharc A gradam, a croch, a poimp is a taibhse; Sealbhach b aici is eorna ag fs di,
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But a dirty mat without a quilt or a spread 408 Without a blanket or comforter to cover the bed. 409 Your cabin is without a place for a seat 410 Dripping soot from above; oozing mud from beneath 411 Rank weeds flourishing in profusion galore 412 And chicken tracks scratched across the floor 413 The roofline sagging; the gables leaning 414 The brown rain pouring down through the ceiling. 415 O company of seers, how loud she does shout
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A blustery braggart who goes about 417 In colourful clothes and silken cloaks 418 It is certain the money didnt come from her folks. 419 From where the look of which you crow 420 And how did you earn the necessary dough; 421 Its hard to believe its from an honest stroke 422 Its not long since you were totally broke 423 Where did you get the price of the hoods 424 Tell us how you came by the expensive duds. 425 I wont make the cost of your coat my affair 426 But how could you afford the fancy footwear? 427 O Aoibheal, peerless, kindly queen
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I beg you, call on you, please intervene 429 I know that all in Ireland who reach mans estate 430 Is firmly hooked by such a reprobate 431 One of my friends who lives up the road 432 Not very far from my own abode 433 Among the nicest boys you ever spied 434 Was snared into taking one as his bride 435 It pains my heart to see her around 436 Her hauteur, her pomp, her stuck-up frown 437 Cattle in her possession, her barley growing
Airgead pca is r idir lmha aici. Do chonnaic m inn ar thaobh na sride, Is cumasach tran an lire mn , Malpaire msach mgach magil, Marbh le cmas ln de lads, Murach gur claon liom ad do mhscailt, Scannal do scith n scalta scrd, Do bfhuras dom insint cruinn mar chuala An chuma na mbodh s sraoillte suaite, Sractha ar lr is gir ina timpeall, Sraite ar an srid n i stbla snte. Mairfidh a tsc is trchtfar choche Ar mharthain ar chil is ar ghir a gnomhartha In U Bhreacin an arin is an fhona, I dTr Mhachlin na mbnta mne, Ag sle is rsa Mhinse is nse, Chill Bhreacin, an Chlir is Chuinche, Ag connsaigh ainmhche Threadra an phnra Is fonsa falcha Chreatlaighe an chorda. Faire, ba chlaon , tar is a ndirt m Ghlacfainn gur saor faoi na cionta Ach beirim don phligh l mar chm Leagaithe limh le Grus snte, Caite ar an rd gan orlach fuithi Ag gramasc na mna ar bhithre Dhubhdhoire. Miontas ann os ceann mo chille Is crithim go fann le scanradh an scil seo, Ise bheith seang nuair theann gach inne Is druidim le clann nuair shanntaigh fin . Is mr ina grsa ag r na mbriathar, Nimad de sps nor gh le hiarraidh ladh ar bord os comhair na coinnle
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Money in her pocket and gold overflowing. 439 I saw her yesterday on the side of the street 440 She was a large woman, in no way petite; 441 She shook her huge hips in a taunting way 442 With as much impertinence as she could display 443 Were it not that I am the soul of discretion 444 Unwilling to comment on any transgression 445 I could easily tell what Ive heard told 446 How she carried on as a harlot bold 447 Stretched on the floor, causing a hullabaloo 448 In the street or the stable, her clothing askew. 449 Her story will live, shell be the subject of lore 450 She will be spoken of for evermore 451 In Ibrickane of the bread and wine 452 In Tirmaclane of the meadows so fine 453 By Manishmores and Ennis lowly and quality 454 In Killbracken, in Quin, and in Clareabbey 455 In Tradree of the beans where there are wild young fellows 456 And in Cratlea where outlaws hang from the gallows
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Now, look, thats all in the past, I know 458 And I might be willing to let it all go 459 But the other day I saw her on her ass 460 Outside of Garus lying on the grass 461 Spread on the ground without a stitch, so bare, 462 With a bogman from Doora in the County Clare. 463 It's a wonder to me, past all comprehension 464 Just to think of it fills me with hypertension, 465 After fornicating with all, I just donknow 466 How she didnt conceive till she wished it so. 467 Its saying a lot for the power of the word 468 That not a minute of unnecessary delay was incurred 469 From the reading before the candles bright
An tEgo Vos seo dordaigh osa Gur shid s lacht go bleacht ina cocha Ach naoi m beacht is seachtain go cinnte! Breathain gur bhaol don t t scaoilte Ceangal go hag faoi thaobh den chuing seo, I sealbh gach saoth, is ad d shuathadh In aisce, mo lan! mo lann n bhfuaireas, Is feasach don taobh seo den tsaol mar bh m Sealad dem rim is dem laethanta roimhe seo, Leitheadach lidir ln de shaibhreas, Feisteas le fil is filte im theaghlach, Cara i gcirt is cnamh dl agam, Ceannas is cl agus comhar sa saoithe, Tathach im chaint is suim is ifeacht, Talamh is maoin ag suomh mo chille! Maigne stheach is mintinn ssta Chailleas le bean mo bhr is mo shlinte! Ba thaitneamhach leabhair an crobhaire mn , Bh seasamh is com is cabhail is cnmha aici, Casadh ina cl go bclach trilseach, Lasadh ina gnis go lonrach soilseach, Cuma na hige uirthi is s ina gire, Is cuireadh ina cl chun pige is filte! Ach chreathas le fonn gan chonn gan chairde bhaithis go bonn go tabhartha i ngr dhi. Is dearbh gan dabht ar domhan gur doltas Danartha donn dom thabhairt ar maimhleas Dfhearthainn go trom ar bhonn mo ghnomhartha Fhlaitheas le fonn do lom do lon m. Do snaidhmeadh go suite snaidhm na clire, Is ceangladh sinn i gcuing le chile, Ghlanas gan chinnteacht suim gach ileamh
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Of the Ego Vos of the marriage rite
Her breasts were bursting with milk, I swear 472 After nine months with just a week to spare!
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Its the greatest peril to the single and sane 474 To be tied till death to the ball and chain, 475 In the grip of misfortune, jealousy rife, 476 As I learned for myself at a terrible price. 477 Everyone round here knows how I used be, 478 When I was single and gloriously free, 479 An important man, much wealth I did own 480 My door was wide open, my table did groan 481 A friend at court and the law on my side 482 Dominion and fame, with seers as my guide. 483 My words with wit and wisdom teemed 484 All the land and wealth of which I dreamed 485 My mind at ease, my brain without strife 486 I lost it all when I married my wife! 487 She was a pleasant and graceful strip of a lass 488 Her posture and presence betokened class 489 The toss of her head showed off ringlets and curls 490 And the sheen on her cheeks fairly glowed like pearls, 491 She had the vitality of youth and a smile of bliss 492 And all her demeanour invited a kiss. 493 I shook with desire, my mind did reel 494 I fell besottedly in love, head over heel. 495 Its certain, no doubt, it was retribution 496 For all my bad actions, my dissolution 497 Which fell with a vengeance for my transgression
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From heaven above with cruel repression. 499 The clergy tied us tightly with the knot 500 In a damnable yoke we were firmly caught, 501 I cleared all the debts without demur or delay
Bhaineas le baois gan ghaois an lae sin. Cothrom go leor, nor chir m a chineadh Stopas an gleo bh ag cip na sride, Bacaigh go lir, bh an clireach ssta, An sagart rbhuoch is bfhidir fth leis! Lasamar tirs is comharsana go cruinn ann, Leagadh ar boird mrchuid bia chugainn Clagarnach cheoil is l gan chuimse, Is chaitheadar cisir mhrtach mhaoiteach. Mo dhth gan easpa nr tachtadh le bia m An oche baisteadh n as sin gur iarras Sneadh ar leaba le hainnis do liath m Is do scaoil le gealaigh gan chara gan chiall m.
From the extravagant folly of that fateful day 503 Give me due credit, I was able to treat 504 All of the rabble who came in from the street 505 Beggars all, the clerics were sated 506 The priest was delighted at how he was feted. 507 With torches lit, the neighbours around 508 The table with all sort of foodstuffs was crowned 509 The music was mighty, much drink was imbibed 510 It was a bash on a scale that cant be described. 511 But the day I was baptised I wish I had died 512 Or some day since then before I had tried 513 To bed with a trollop who turned me gray 514 Deprived me of friends, caused my mind to decay. 515 But then I was warned by the young and the old Is tsc do gheobhainn ag g is ag aosta 516 That she was a drunkard and a constant scold Gur bhrealln spirt ag l is ag glaoch 517 With the rabble in sheebeens she was wont to I mbothin sta is boird bplascadh, mingle 518 And lay on the floor with the married and single Ar lr ina liste ag psta is aonta. 519 It took a while before her name was destroyed Do bfhada d meilt a teist is a tuairisc Do bfhada gur chreid m a bheag n a mhr de, 520 The stories about her I long could avoid 521 Everyone kept mum who knew the situation Do beaglach le gach beirt d gcuala 522 Afraid I would vanish, naked, in extreme Go rachainn im pheilt im gheilt gan tuairisc. agitation. 523 I would not listen, too blind to see Fs n ghillfinn, caoch mar bh m, 524 To the few who ineffectively told me; Do ghlr gan ifeacht inne mhaoidh ; 525 I believed they were only slagging the groom Ach magadh n greim gan feidhm gan chill 526 Until the whole story was told by her womb. Gur aithris a broinn dom deimhin gach scil! 527 It was not a prank or idle prattle Nor chrsa leamhais n durdam brige , 528 Or a woman engaging in tittle-tattle N dirt bean liom go ndradh li 529 But the deed itself spoke loud and clearly Ach labhair an bheart i gceart is in ifeacht 530 She gave me a son who was way too early! Do bhronn s mac i bhfad roimh r dom! 531 God almighty, I nearly died of fright Mo scanradh scil gan fith dem chro air 532 To find a family at the end of that night! Clann d dtamh dom tar is na hoche! 533 There was a mighty commotion around the house Callid anfach ainig sclta,
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Bunc ceangailte is bean an t breoite, Posid leagaithe ar smeachid teo acu Cuinneog bhainne d greadadh le frsa Is mullach ar lnmhias bnbhia is siicre Ag Muirinn N Chimliaith binliaigh an chrca Bhi coiste cruinnithe ag tuilleadh dem chomharsain Cois na tine agus siosarnach dhamhsa. Scaoileann siad cogar i bhfogas dom isteacht: Mle moladh le Solas na Soilse! Bodh nach baileach a daibigh an chr seo Feicimse an t-athair ina sheasamh ina chadfa. A bhfeiceann t, a Shadhbh ar, luigheamh a ghaga! A dheilbh gan draighean a bhaill is a mhara! Cumas na lmh ba dna dirne! Cuma na gcnmh is fs na feola. Do cheapadar cruinn gur sholraigh an dchas
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With a swaddled child and a retching spouse, 535 A draught of medicine on the coals being warmed 536 A can full of cream was being forcefully churned 537 A dish heaped high with sugar and goody 538 For the greedy midwife, Muireann N Chimlia 539 A group of my other neighbours were gathered
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Beside the fire where they quietly whispered. 541 One of them said, loud enough to hear: 542 Praise be to the stars that shine so clear, 543 Even though the nipper didnt wait for the clock 544 He looks like hes a chip cut off the old block. 545 Dont you see now, Saiv, how the kid is the image 546 Of the old mans form, his limbs and his visage! 547 The cut of his hands and those bold fists 548 And look at those legs and arms and wrists. 549 They pondered long on the childs supposed lineage 550 How he looked like me, inherited my image Maise mo ghn agus or mo ghnise, 551 The shape of my nose and how my brow glowed Filleadh mo shrine is glnra madain, 552 The elegant form which on him I bestowed Deise mo chl, mo shnua agus mfhachana, 553 The lay of my eyes and even my grin Leagadh mo shl is go fi mo ghire 554 How he was my very picture from head to shin. Is as-sin do shiil chl go sil . Amharc n radharc n bhfaghainn den chrice, 555 Of course, not hide nor hair did I see of the pup, Is baileach gan leigheas do mhillfeadh gaoth ! 556 They said the draughts would screw him up! 557 The crowd in the house kept him out of my sight Ag cuideachta an teaghlaigh i bhfeighil mo chaochta, 558 With their claim that the air would harm the mite. Siolla d laghad di lefaidh an crat+B222ir! 559 By this time I was mad and breathing fire Do labhras garg is do thagras osa, 560 I told them the consequences would be dire Is stollta garbh do bhagras grosach, 561 I thundered, I stormed, I blustered, I swore Dfhgras fearg le hainbhios cainte, 562 Till the women of the house could stand it no Is is digh gur chreathadar cailleacha an t more. romham. 563 They brought me the boy to settle me down, De leisce an achrainn leagadar chugam ,
Beir go haireach air, seachain n br , Is fuiris a shuaitheadh, luaisc go ridh , Turraing do fuair s ruaig roimh r ; Seachain n faisc , fg ina lu , Is gairid an bs do, is gearr do raghaidh s; D maireadh go l idir lmha ina chl Is an sagart ar fil norbh fhearr a bheith beo. Do bhaineas an tsnaidhm d chuibhreach cumhdaigh Is bhreathain m cruinn snte ar ghlin liom, A Muaireach dairigh m tathagach tamhanda , Fuair m feargach fearradach litheach Lidir leathan mo leanbh ina ghuaill, Sla daingeana is an-chuid gruaige air! Cluasa cruinnithe is ingne fsta, Chruadhdar a uillinneacha a chroibh is a chnmha, Daibigh a shile is fi a phollir, Is dairigh m a ghline lfar lidir. Coilen cumasach cuisleach ciriil Follin fuinneamhach fulaingeach feolmhar. Screadaim go hard le gir na tre Is leagaim dod lthair cs na ndaoine, Breathain go caoin, is b truamhileach, Beanna a gcinn is suim a gcille; Athraigh an dl seo chuinge na clire Is ainic an bhuon nr fuarthas sa ngibheann. M lagaigh an solrach donmahr daonna I dtalamh dath-aoibheann fhorghlais ireann, Is furasta an tr daithlonadh le laochra Duireasa eanga gan bhr gan ifeacht, C bhfuil an g le gir na bainse, Crta biotille is p lucht seinnte, Somachin ar bord go fiseach taibhseach,
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Take him gently, dont shake him around 565 Hes easily hurt; hes close to dying 566 Dont pick him up, leave him lying 567 Since she had a fall that brought on his birth 568 Hes close to death, not too long for this earth 569 We hope hell survive till the morning at least 570 When well have a chance to call the priest. 571 I loosened the confining bands and set him free
572
I looked at him carefully there on my knee 573 My God, I saw he was full of vim and vigour 574 And he looked like he had a healthy figure 575 The babys shoulders were stout, I declare, 576 He was firm in the feet, had a fine head of hair! 577 Well-formed ears and nails that were long 578 His hands, his wrists and his elbows were strong
579
His eyes and his nostrils were both healthily wide 580 I could see from his knees hed have a powerful stride. 581 In short and in closing, its all I can say 582 That he was as fine a child as youd see any day. 583 O Aoibheal, I beg you on behalf of my race 584 I place before you the peoples case 585 Judge us kindly, show us mercy 586 Weve little sense but much jealousy 587 Change this law of the clergys yoke 588 And allow his freedom to the unmarried bloke. 589 If the population is on the wane 590 In Irelands green and fertile terrain, 591 Her race of warriors could be reborn yet 592 Absent the inanity of the marriage net, 593 Why do we need those nuptial traditions 594 Paying for liqour and for musicians 595 Idlers eating all of your food
Glugar is gleo acu is l d shaighdeadh, daibigh an t-bhar do bhronn Mac D Gan sagart ar domhain d dtabhairt d chile; Is leathanmhar lidir lnmhear ladmhar Fairsing le fil an t-lmhach saor seo. Is minic a fheicimse bromhar borrtha Cumasach lonta i gcro is i gcir iad; Creim n fheicim n daille n caoiche I lim ar leithre dr hoileadh bhean ar bith; Is m is is mire, is is teinne is is trine
Guzzling your malt till thoroughly stewed. 597 When the Mother of God first conceived 598 No priestly blessing was received. 599 Many who are strong and altogether fine 600 Sprang from an illegitimate line 601 For love is a lustier sire than creed 602 And produces a healthier, heartier breed 603 The deaf or dumb or lame or blind 604 Among love children you generally wont find; 605 They are stronger and faster, more right in the head 606 Than many begotten in a married bed. A gcl is a gclisteacht n dlisteanaigh inne. 607 I brought with me the proof of my stand Is furasta a luaimse dfhuascailt go suite 608 I have here with me one of that band! Is duine acu an uair seo ar fud an t agam! 609 Do you see him there, so quiet and polite? A bhfeiceann t thall go ceansa ciin ! 610 Bring him here so we can see him right. Deisigh anall i dteannta an bhoird . 611 Look at him carefully, though hes a youth Breathain go cruinn , bodh gurab g 612 You will see indeed that I tell the truth Is dearfa suite an posa feola , 613 Hes a comely boy in form so grand Is preabaire i dtoirt i gcorp is i gcnmh 614 Can you see a flaw in his foot or hand? C bhfuil a locht i gcos n i lmh de? 615 He wasnt sired by a sap with consumption N seargach fann n seandach feosach, 616 A worthless tramp, a gander without gumption Leibide cam n gandal geoiseach, 617 A formless lump whos riddled with cancer Meall gan chuma n sumach gan sneadh 618 But a lively, powerful, active lancer. Ach lansa cumasach buinneamhach bromhar. 619 It would be such a farce to tie for life N deacair a mheas nach spreas gan bhr 620 This sire of his to only one wife Bheadh ceangailte ar nasc ar tasc ag bean, Gan chnmh gan chumas gan chuma gan chom, 621 Shapeless, spineless, waistless, sexless Gan ghr gan chumann gan fuinneamh gan fonn, 622 Friendless, mindless, loveless, listless 623 To use his seed for only one womb Do scaipfeadh i mbronn daon mhaighre mn 624 When he could be in many a bedroom. Le catachas draighin an grare bhre 625 This young lad proves without a lie Mar chuireann s i bhfeidhm gan mhoill gan bhrig 626 With his goodly arms and shapely thigh Le cumas a bhaill is le luigheamh a ghag Gur crobhaire cruthaodh go cothrom gan chim 627 That hes a sapling who was the upshot 628 Of a fevered coupling when the blood was hot. Le fonn na fola is le fothram na slinte.
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Leis-sin n hiarrse a ron rilteach
So please dont subject millions, O Queen of the Sky 630 To a stupid rule with which they must comply Milleadh meiriad le riail gan ifeacht! Scaoil chodladh gan chochall gan chuibhreach 631 Awake to a life without a bond or chain Sol an bhodaigh is an mhogall-fhuil mhaoiteach, 632 The countrys people, both mighty and plain 633 Allow them to be naturally combined Scaoil f chile de rir ndra 634 Couples from the peasantry and the refined. An solbhach sad is an braon lbrtha, 635 Throughout the land may a new rule unfold Fgair go filtiil tr na tortha 636 Of sexual freedom for young and for old. Dg is daosta saorthoil solraigh. 637 This new law will make the Irish proud, Cuirfidh an dl seo gaois sa nGaeil, 638 The new race will once again be endowed Is tiocfaidh an br mar bh ina laochra, 639 With all the prowess of the heroes of old, Ceapfaidh s com is droim is doirne 640 The likes of Goll mac Mirne the bold. Ag fir an domhain mar Gholl mac Mirne, 641 The sky will brighten, the fish will bite Gealfaidh an spir, beidh isc i lonta, 642 The mountainy land will bloom with no blight Is talamh an tslibhe go lir faoi luibhne, 643 Men and women will sing your praise Fir is mn go brch d mhaomh, 644 And in joyful celebration their voices raise. Ag seinnm do chil le gairdeas aoibhnis.
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Deireadh do Chuid a Tr
Ar Aghaidh go Cuid a Ceathair
End of Part Three

On To Part Four
Cirt an Mhen Oche--Cuid a Ceathair

le/by
Brian Merriman
Foclir Glossary
Cuid a Ceathair: An Ainnir Ars

T an ainnir ars ar an mbnse ag magadh an tseanfhir faoin mbealach inar theip air a bhean g a shsamh. Deir s go mba chir iachall a chur ar fhir ga psadh, is gan eisceacht a dhanamh do shagairt na tre. Tar is bheith tamall don ainnir ag isteacht Do lim ina seasamh go tapa gan foighne, Do labhair s leis agus loise ina sile Is rabharta feirge feilce fithi: Dar Corin na Carraige murach le gilleadh Dod chl dod ainnis is deasnamh do chille Is dam na hurraime don chuideachta shimh seo An ceann lem ingin do sciobfainn ded chaolscroig, Do leagfainn anuas de thuairt faoin mbord th Is is fada le lua gach cuairt d bhfaighinn ort Go stricfinn sreanga do bheatha le fonn ceart Is go seolfainn tanam go Acheron tonnach. N fi liom freagra freastail do thabhairt ort, A shnamhaire fleascaigh nach aithis do labhartha! Ach inseoidh m feasta do mhaithe na cirte An ns inar cailleadh an ainnir nrbh fhi th: Bh s lag, gan bha gan phuint, Bh s i bhfad gan teas gan cldadh, Cortha dh saol, ar strae dh seoladh phost go pilar gan ghaol gan chngas,
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Part Four: The Young Woman Again

The young woman again takes the stand mocking the old mans inability to satisfy his young wife. She advocates forcing young men to marry with the clergy not being exempt from that edict. After the girl had heard his harangue With great impatience, to her feet she sprang, With fire in her eyes on him she gazed And spoke in a voice that was trembling and crazed: By Cragleas Crown, if I wasn't thinking How your health is failing, your faculties sinking And of the respect thats due to this court With my nails, Id scratch your face and throat Id knock you with a mighty crash to the ground And it would long be talked of how often you went down Until I had cut your mortal cord So that across Acheron you were being oared.. Its beneath my dignity to answer you straight You sniveling slimeball, your speechs inchoate But I want to inform the worthies of the court Of the horrible life of one above your sort: She was vulnerable, without cattle or dough Always freezing without heat or a throw Tired of life, astray without direction From pillar to post, with no relatives affection,
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Gan scth gan sps de l n doche, Ag strocadh an arin mhn nr chu li. Do gheall an fear seo dreas sclach di, Do gheall an spreas di teas is cldadh, Cothrom glan is ba le cr di, Is codladh fada ar leaba chlimh di, Teallaigh te agus min a dthain Falla fd gan leoithne gaoithe, Fothain is don n son is n spir di, Olann is lon le snomh chun adaigh. Do bfheasach don tsaol is don phist seo lithreach Nach taitneamh n tamh n aonphuth ghr d Do cheangail an parla maorga mn seo Ach easnamh go lir,ba dirc li an tsstacht! Ba dubhach an fuadar suairceas oche Smit is ualach duais is lonadh, Lithne luaidhe agus guaill caol Is gline crua chomh fuar le hoidhre Cosa feoite dite n ngrosach Is colainn bhreoite dhreoite chrona. An bhfuil stuaire beo n feoidhfeadh liath Ag cual d shrt bheith psta riamh? Nr chuardaigh fs faoi dh le bliain C buachaill g , feoil n iasc? Is an feiteach fuar seo suas li snte Dreoite duairc gan bua gan bogadh. Och! car mhr di bualadh bromhar Ar ns ba dhual de uair san oche. N digh go dtuigtear gurab ise ba chiontach N fs go gcliseadh ar laige ina tonndacht An maighre mascalach carthanach cintais Is deimhin go bhfaca s a mhalairt de mhineadh. N labharfadh focal d mba obair an oche
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Without rest or comfort by day or by night Having to beg from strangers her daily bite. This man promised her silver and gold He promised her heat and shelter from cold, A fair share of wealth and milk cows purebred Comfortable nights on a down-covered bed Warm hearths with turf so she wouldnt freeze Thick sod walls to keep out the breeze, Well-secured roofs and doors and windows Wool and linen to weave for clothes Twas known to the world and to this worm there That not pleasure or warmth or a love affair Drew this pearl of a woman to that block of ice But that a life of want left her without any choice. With him there would be no nights of pleasure With this fat load, dropsical beyond measure; With his leaden sinews and narrow shoulder It was hard to see how the night could get colder. Along with knarly knees and decaying feet His dry sickly body was no young womans treat. Is there a beauty alive who wouldnt grow old If she were married to a crock so cold Who, even twice a year, didnt have a wish To see if she was a boy, whether flesh or fish? She had this cold bag of bones lying by her side Shriveled and woebegone, impotent, stupefied. Oh! Wouldnt she have loved just once a night A little affection as was her conjugal right. I don't believe peoplell think she was to blame That she was an icy and frigid dame This gentle girl with an amorous heart It wasnt in her nature to shirk her part. With a lively lover she wouldnt have quit
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Is a thabharfadh cothrom do stollaire bhomhar. Go brch ar sil nor dhiltaigh riamh , Ar chnmh a cil is a sile iata. N thabharfadh preab le stailc mhchuosach, Fogha mar chat n sraic n scrob air, Ach go lir ina slaod cshnte, Taobh ar thaobh is a gag ina thimpeall, scal go scal ag bragadh smaointe, Bal ar bhal is ag maraocht sos air. Is minic do chuir s cos taobh anonn de, Is chuimil a bruis chrios go gln de; Do sciobadh an phluid is an chuilt d ghnga Ag spriongar is ag sult le moirt gan subhachas. Nor chabhair di coigilt n cuimilt n fscadh, Fogha da hingin, d huillinn, d sla. Is nir dom aithris mar chaitheadh s an oche Ag fscadh an chnaiste, ag searradh is ag sneadh, Ag feacadh na ngag is an t-adach fithi, A baill go lir is a dada ar lithchrith, Go loinnir an lae gan nall go dhchan uirthi, Ag imirt thaobh go taobh is ag nfairt. Nach furasta don lobhar seo labhairt ar mhn Is gan fuinneamh ina choim n cabhair ina chnmha, M dimigh an mhodhil bh trom ina ghbha Is gur deineadh an fhoghail seo gabhaimse a pirt. A bhfuil sionnach ar sliabh n iasc i dtr, N iolar le fiach n fia le fn Chom fada gan chiall le bliain n l Do chaitheamh gan bia is a bhfiach le fil? An aithnid dbh fin san tsaol seo c bhfuil An t-ainmh claon n an feithid fin
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Once she was lighted, you know shed stay lit. With the proper partner shed never take flight Entranced on her back with her eyes shut tight She wouldnt jump with inappropriate fright Attack like a cat or scratch or bite, But lie with him in embrace combined Side by side with legs entwined, Exchanging sweet nothings, little white lies Lips to lips, fingers stroking his thighs. Shed often throw a leg over him in haste, Caress him with her brush from knee to waist But with this one here, shed tear quilt from his body Seeking to play with that cheerless dogsbody Fondling or embracing didnt stir that beast Tickling his feet didnt help in the least I hate to tell you how shed spend the night Tossing and turning in her hopeless plight Clasping the linens, to the bed-rail clinging Her body shaking and her sweet lips trembling Till the dawn of the day without a wink of sleep Rocking to and fro in despair deep. This leper speaks of women in casual tones Without life in his loins or strength in his bones If it was a gent with a heavy heart Who had mounted this attack, I might take his part. But is there a fox on the hill or a fish in the mere A hunting eagle or a wandering deer Thats so much without sense for a day or a year That itd go hungry when sustenance is near? Have any of you heard tell, in the west or the east, Of any class or breed or kind of a beast
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Do phiocfadh an chr an fraoch n an phil Is feorainn ina shlaoda is far le fil? Aithris gan mhoill, a chladhaire chrite, Freagair m, faghaimse feidhm id rite: C bhfuil do dhth ag su chun bile? Ar caitheadh le m aici a dtos ina file! An laigide an chil n an lide an lithreach Fiche millin m shiil le rithe ann? Mairg i do cheann a sheandaigh thamhanda, An eagal leat ganntanas am do dhile An digh a ghliogaire buile gur bhaol duit l na Sionainne tirim n a taoscadh? Tr na farraige is tarraingt an tsile? Is clr na mara do scaipeadh le scla? Breathain in am ar leamhas do smaointe Is ceangail do cheann le banda timpeall! Seachain i dtrth, n fg do chiall Le heagla mn bheith filteach fial; D gcaitheadh s an l le cch do riar Bheadh tuilleadh is do sith-se ar fil ina ndiaidh. Mo chumha is mo chr ba bhre san ad Ar lbaire lidir lnmhear ladmhar Shantach shiteach shsta sheasmhach Ramsach rflach rbach rabairneach, Lascaire luaimneach, cuardaitheoir cuimseach, Balcaire buan n buailteoir bromhar, Ach seanduine seanda cranda creimneach, Fmaire fann is feam gan file. Is mithid dom chro bheith lonta de lithe, Is miontas tr gach smaointe baotha Cad a bheireann scaoilte chuibhreach cile
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That would search for food where nothing grows And ignore the feast beneath its nose? Answer me, you blackguard, without delay Id like to hear what you have to say: When you sup at an inn, is the food less nutritious If others had found the same menu delicious? Is the house weaker, the site less secure If twenty million had inspected it before Does it really bother you, you stiff old prude Are you afraid of scarcity when youre in the mood Do you think it possible, were you to try To drain the Shannon by drinking it dry? To ebb a neap tide with a jug? Or empty the ocean with a mug? Next time, pause before saying whats best unsaid Wrap a cold compress around your head Take a deep breath, dont lose the rag At the thought of women who like to shag If she spent the whole day entertaining all Thered be still enough for you to have a ball. Bejasus, such jealousy could be understood In a strapping, stout-hearted, sterling stud Panting, pushing, pulsing, preening Roistering, romping, rollicking, riproaring A roving rogue, a sensitive searcher A steadfast stalwart, a topnotch thresher Not in an ossified oldster, a grumpy grunt An incompetent idler, a reclusive runt. Now, theres another matter on my mind That should give pause to womankind: Why are they free of the married state
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In eaglais sinsir suim na clire. Mo chr gan leigheas, mo threighid dom fhscadh, Is lidir mfhoighne is laghad mo rige, Is mid a mbmid ar dth gan inne, Is mian r gcro faoi shnaidhm na hide. Nach bocht an radharc do mhaighdean ghbhair Toirt is taibhse a mbaill is a mbretha, Bloscadh a n-aghaidh agus soilse a ngire, Corp is coim is toill ar tmhchrith, ire, ille, blth agus ige, Ramhadas cnmh is mechan feola, Martas trom is droim gan suathadh, Neart gan dabht is fonn gan fuar. Bonn sealbh gach s acu ar bhord na saoithe, Earra agus r chun il is aoibhinis, Clmh chun lu acu is saill chun bia acu, Plr is milseacht meidhir is fonta. Is gnthach cumasach iomadil g iad Is t fhios againne gur fuil agus feoil iad. Cumha n ghlacfainn le cafair coillte, Snamhair galair n searraigh gan soilse, Ach malra bodacha, stollair trana, I dtmhghail chodlata is obair gan danamh! Creidim gan bhrag gur mhian le roinn dobh Filleadh le file, daor n bheinnse. Cothrom, n cir an t-ord le chile Chrochadh le crda, ghabhil n dhaoradh, Bs na droinge, is deimhin, n ghrfainn Ln na loinge chun duine n bhfainn, Cuid acu bodh gur rcigh riamh Is cuid eile bhos gan romh gan riail, Cinntigh chrua gan trua gan trithe, Fochmhar fuar is fuath do bhithe.
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All of those priests of our ancient faith. Granted that I might rightly cry and bawl My patience is great, my rage is small That, given how much we need a mate, Those heart-throbs are taken off the plate. Its a pathetic sight for a needy maid To see how well these priest are made Their rosy cheeks, their smiles so bright Their slender waists, their buttocks tight Their beauteous forms, their youth so fresh Their straight bones, their well-fed flesh Their solid torso and steady back Their undoubted strength, their love of the craic Theyre a welcome guest at the table of the seer Theyve got silver and gold for whiskey and beer Down for their beds and salt for their food The best of wine to put them in the mood Mostly theyre not long past their boyhood And we girls know that theyre flesh and blood If I thought they were angels or sexless saints Or sickly creeps, Id have no complaints But theyre lusty youngsters with appetites unsated In a torpid sleep while maids are unmated! Most of these fellows, I truthfully believe, Are lonely Adams asking God for an Eve To be fair, it wouldnt do To hang the lot because of the few Sinking the ship wouldnt be the right plan, Drowning the whole crew to get one man Some have always been a right shower Who are in the priesthood for the power Tough old buzzards without any heart Who think every woman is just a tart.
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Tuilleadh acu at nos fearr n a chile, Tuilte le gr is le grsta file. Is minic a buaitear ba is grithe Cuigeann is cruach de chuairt na clire. Is minic lem chuimhne maodh a dtrithe Is iomad d ngnomhartha forghlic fithe, Is minic do chuala ar fud na tre Siosarnach luath d luadh go lonmhar, Is chonnaic m taibhseach roinn d ramsach Is uimhir d gclainn ar shloinnte falsa. Baineann s fscadh as lr mo chlibhse A gcaithtear d slinte ar mhn treasaosta Is turraing san tr chun dth na mbithe, Ar cuireadh gan bhr tsolrach naofa. Is dealbh an diachair dianghoirt dire Ar chailleamar riamh le riail gan ifeacht! Fgaim ftsa a chn na cille Fth na cise is cumha na clire. Is meallta meillte lu dom dhighhse. Is dall gan radharc m, soilsigh meolas, Aithris, s cuimhin leat, cant na bhfithe Is aspal an R ba bhogach rite. C bhfuil na cumhachta drdaigh an Dileamh, Is calcadh na feola i gcorin na cumha seo; Pl dar liom n dirt le hinne An psadh dhilt ach drs do shanadh, Scaradh led ghaol d mhid do ghnaoi Is ceangal led shaol is clao led mhnaoi. Is obair gan bhr do bhean mar timse Focal den dl seo suomh dod lthair, Is cuimhin leat fin a pharla an taibhse
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But others are from a different race Full of love and full of grace. Often the well-being of a farm is increased Without just one visit from such a priest. I can recall well their virtues being lauded The number of their good works applauded, I often heard throughout the land A buzz of appreciation for this band, Ive seen incontrovertible evidence that many a son Could call a priest a father in more ways than one. Still, it bothers me greatly at the time They spend on women past their prime, While many a woman at best stage in life Is left husbandless when she could be a wife. In Ireland it has been demonstrably cruel The damage thats done by this aimless rule. The trouble, I assert, O Fount of Wisdom Is that clerical celibacy is the bane of Christendom And is nothing if not an abomination. I know Im blind, I need an explanation Tell us, if you know, the prophets sayings What were the Lords apostles teachings Where is it written that the Creator said That the desires of the flesh shouldnt be fed Paul, in my opinion, never held that a vocation Required abnegation of marriage, just fornication To leave your relations and your parents house And live for life with your wedded spouse. Of course, its meaningless for a woman like me To explain the law to your majesty, O Spectral Pearl, you remember well
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Suomh gach scil is lir dhuit soilseach Binnghuth buan is bua na mbriathra Is cant an Uain n luafar bragach, Dia nrbh il leis mthair aonta, Is riail gach fidh i bhfbhar bithe. Gum go hard t, a fhidhbhean tsthe, A sholrach neamhda a barr na rthe, A shoilse glire a chorin na sluaite, ist lem ghlrsa, fir is fuaraigh dinn; Me i do intinn dth na mbithe Is prinn na mlte brdeach aonta, Is toic mar t siad ar bhrid a chile Ag borradh is ag fs mar l na nganna; An tl is l t ag sil na sride, Grlaigh dhubha is ginach grnna, An aga d laghad m fhaigheann siad a ndthain Glasra, meadhg, is briodar borrfaids; Durchar neimhe le haois gan ifeacht Tiocfaidh na cocha, scinnfids, sceithfids. Scalladh mo chlibh! is baoth mo smaointe! Ag tagairt ar chile i gcaora tinte! Is deacair dom sil le subhachas dfhil Is gan fear in aghaidh triir sa Mhumhain d mn. tharla an ceantar gann seo ghbhair, Fnlag fann, is an t-am seo prinneach, Fla folamh is fothram ag fiaile, Is ige an phobail ag cromadh is ag liathadh, Aonta fada go dealbh gan foighne Dinne ar talamh is fear igin faighimse. Ceangail i dtrth go tlith faoin im iad, Is as sin go brch fgtar finne iad.
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All of the stories that make up the Gospel The meaning of the everlasting word The parables of the Lamb you have heard I give Gods married mother as the beau ideal And the prophets:rules promote womens weal. O Ghostly Seer, to you I plead You whore descended of heavenly seed O Glorious Light, O Crown of the Throng Hear my voice and help us along Keep womens plight firmly in your mind The predicament of single womankind. The number of maids, if this system doesnt cease, Will increase and grow like a flock of geese. The smallest mite that you see in the street Dirty urchins that are decrepit and not neat Youd see how theyd improve, if they had for a day Their fill of vegetables, curds and whey; Like a bolt from the blue, all of a sudden Their breasts would grow, theyd blossom and strengthen It wounds my heart and raises my ire And burns my mind with a mass of fire To see so little prospect for much fun With Munstermen outnumbered three to one. Since the area is so poor and impotent So utterly weak in this time so urgent An empty Ireland where wastrels bray And the youth of the country growing grey A long spinsterhood seems a likelihood. If I could find a man, either bad or good Ill cart him straight away to the altar And tie him for life in a conjugal halter.
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Deireadh do Chuid a Ceathair

Ar Aghaidh go Cuid a Cig
End of Part four

On To Part Five
Cirt an Mhen Oche--An Breithinas is an Riteach

le/by
Brian Merriman
Foclir Glossary
Cuid a Cig: An Breithinas is an Riteach

Tugann Aoibheal a breithinas ar na fadhbanna a bh plite sa chirt. Tairngronn s go mbeidh cead ag na sagairt psadh go luath agus ceadaonn s garleanint ar fhir nach bhfuil ssta psadh. S an file an chad duine a thoghtar le sciirseil a dhanamh air. Dirigh an mhnla ar bharr a bnse, Is do shoilsigh an l san it ina timpeall, Blainn g a cl is a caoindreach, Bard a glr ba bheo is ba bhogach. Dfhisc a dirne is dordaigh deimhneach Bille ar bord ag fgairt Silence. Adirt a bal bh ag sideadh soilse, An chirt go lir go faon ag isteacht: Faghaimse dreach br chun buaite Is feidhm id chantse a bhrdeach bhuartha. Feicm, is is digh gur dite an radharc liom, Solrach rfhlaith Mhire is Mheidhbhe, An seifteoir caol is an cratr cladhartha, An ceisteoir claon is an dirceoir daigheartha, S na tire is tl na coimse Ag sil le srfhuil smh na saoithe. Achtimid mar dl do bhithe An seacht faoi thr gan chuibhreach cile Do tharraing ar cheann go teann gan trua
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Part Five: The Judgment and Resolution

Aoibheal issues her judgment on the issues brought before the court. She foretells that priests soon will be allowed to marry and she gives permission for the persecution of recalcitrant bachelors. The poet finds to his horror that he is the first to face the music. The day was dawning out in the street, As Aoibheal rose up from her seat She had a youthful glow on her form and face Her voice was strong and full of grace She clasped her hands and with vehemence Instructed the bailiff to order Silence The whole of the court gradually grew quiet And she spoke these words in a voice so bright I find lots of merit in the case you bring It was a hell of a speech, you poor young thing. I see, and its a sight thats certainly grave, That the descendants of Orla, Mr and Meave Are now sly connivers and spineless creatures Creepy characters and poor alms-seekers The lowliest of the low and the fairly well off Desperately coveting the bloodlines of the toff. These are the laws that will govern from this date: One: He who reaches twenty-one without a mate Shall be dragged off by the hair of his head
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http://www.showhouse.com/epilogue.html (1 of 7)17/06/2011 13:35
Is a cheangal don chrann seo i dteannta an tuama. Bainig lom de a chabhail is a chta, Is feannaig a dhroim is a choim le crda. An chuid acu tharla bite i mblianta Is cheileas go tir an tairne tiarpa, Chuireas am gan subhachas dinne Buile na htha is lth a ngaga, Do mhilleas a gcil is fil ar bhean acu Ag feitheamh gan fth ar bharr na craoibhe, Fgaim fibhse tionscal pise A mhn na dile dbhadh le hilos; Ceapaig fr-nimh tinte is tairn, Caithig smaointe is intleacht mhn leis, Cuirig bhur gcomhairle i gcomhar le chile, Is tugaimse cumhachta an frsa dhanamh. Beirim gan sps dbh pis na gciantach, Is beag liom bs gan barrghoin pian dibh. N chuirimse i bhfth de bharr mo chainte An foirfeach flta cs-lag claoite, An gabhal gan gotha n an gola gan geall shuilt, An toll gan toradh n an tormach falsa, Ach ligtear an ige i gcir chun solraigh Is danfaidh an srt seo clca is don dibh. Is minic a fheicimse rinsigh bhaotha Ag titim le tos, is bmse buoch dobh, Gafa le mn de l agus doche Ag cosaint a gcil is ar scth a ngnomhartha; Ag seasamh ina bhfeidhil is bhfeidhm go flta,
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And tied to a tree there among the dead His coat to be taken and he be made to strip And the daylights beaten out of him with a whip. Two: Those of the men who are old and sick Who shamelessly failed to use their prick And wasted the best years of their youth Without giving pleasure however minute With women willing, they could have had a spree But hung round like Mad Sweeney in the tree The design of their torture to you I entrust, You women of dashed and disappointed lust; Use female ingenuity to plan the details Of a hell of fire and a rack of nails Put your heads together and stay the course Iill give you the power to put it in force You are free to punish the old men at will In their case, I dont care if you torture or kill. In my commission to you, I dont mind How you treat the oldsters, blighted and blind With their bony bodies and grimacing grins Their lifeless loins and scabrous skins. Three: If the young go about the job of copulation Then my law will protect them from condemnation. Im grateful when I see working men, sometimes poor Labouring so hard youd think theyd faint for sure Affectionate with their wives by day and by night Protecting their good name with all their might Standing by their side because it is right
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A n-ainm ar chlann is bheinnse ssta. Do chuala siolla is do cuireadh i bhsta Is fuath liom baineannach iomadach riteach Labhair go ridh is glaoigh go hseal, Bos ar do bhal, is baol bheith canteach! Seachain go fill na cumhachtaigh ogair Is caithfidh siad psadh fs p chfeas. Tiocfaidh an l le lnchad comhairle Is cuirfidh an Ppa lmh na gcumhacht air, Sufidh an chuideachta ar thubaiste na tre, Is scaoilfear chugaibh faoi urchall cuibhrigh Fintas fola agus fothram na feola Is mian bhur dtoile na stollair teo seo. Aon duine eile dar hoileadh bhean ar bith Ligh a ndeirim is feicim do bhogadh; Ar shl mo chumais n fulaing i gcaoi ar bith Sraoill gan urraim n Muirinn i mbrste, Ach lean sa tir na feoitigh liatha Is glanaig Fla n srt seo fiaile! Caithfidh m gluaiseacht uaibh chun siil, Is fada mo chuairtse ar fud na Mumhan; An turas t rmham n fhnann moill do, Is iomad den ghn anseo fs gan isteacht. Casfaidh m ars is is for nach filteach Dfhir nach don m theacht don it seo; An chuid acu at go tir ina smaointe, Foireann nach folir le a gcil bheith snte, Mhagh m le fothram a gcothrom ar bhithe, Feicfidh an pobal a gcogar is a smidte.
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To see these guys with kids would be such a delight Four: I heard a rumour that Ive kept under wraps I cant stand women who cant close their traps Dont be too loud in spreading it around Button the lip, safer to stay underground! Dont push it too hard with the bishops yet That theyll soon be married is a pretty safe bet. The day will come if youre quiet diplomats When the Pope will issue the necessary diktats A commission will examine the countrys state And therell be released to you, free to mate, Priests with fire in their blood and pulsing flesh And the pick of these heart-throbs will fall into your mesh. Five: Anyone else who is of woman born Read him the riot act if he doesnt reform Dont have anything to do with sons of bitches Slovens without honour or Muireanns in britches And Six: Keep on the track of the old greybeards And be sure to clear Ireland of all such weeds. Thats it, I must get going, Ive appointments to keep, Many a mile to go before I sleep The journey before me wont brook delay Unfinished business here will wait a new day Ill be back, which to some is not good news Those to whom I give the blues; Who burnish their reputations when they spread Stories about girls theyve had in bed Who noisily boast having their way with maids So the public will judge them dashing blades
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Is taitneamhach leo is is digh gur laochas Scannal na hige psta is aonta, Mian a dtoile n sporann a gcionta, Brantas fola n borradh na drise, Taitneamh don ghnomh n foch na fithe Ach magadh na mlte, maomh a n-achta. N saint d s bheir beo na cadfa Ach caint is gleo agus mrtas laochais, Mustar is bhacht is rig gan riail, Is a gcumas go tlth gan tl gan triall, Go tuisleach trrlag tmh ina n-iall, Is cuthach le g ar a mhn ina ndiaidh. Glacfaidh m go ridh an mid seo lithreach, Caithfidh m gilleadh do mhid mo phrinneach, Cuirfidh m an bhuon so i gcuing is in im Nuair thiocfaidh m ars sa mh seo chugainn. Do breathain m cruinn an r-bhean rilteach, Is do lagaigh mo chro le linn bheith ridh dhi, Dairigh m dsacht ghrinmhear igin Is pairilis bhis im chnmha is im chadfa; Chonnaic m an tr is an tos ar luascadh, Is fuinneamh a cante ag rince im chluasa. Tagann an boma bogach bille, Is leath mo lthe ar shneadh a limhe; Tharraing ar chluais go stuacach storril Sracaithe suas li ar uachtar boird m.
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It gives these poltroons such a rush to the head To scandalize the young, both single and wed Their motives are not out of concupiscence The desires of the flesh or crazed tumescence The pleasure of the act or fire in the veins But the notoriety that their conduct attains. Its not pursuing enjoyment that excites their senses But the general hullabaloo caused by their offences. Of course, its all ostentation, exhibitionism and show With no more justification than that a chicken should crow Stumbling, bumbling, impotent, cold They couldnt arouse a woman for silver or gold. Id deal with these miscreants right now, right here But Im out of time, have to pack my gear Ill throw the lot of them in the hoosegow When I come back here a month from now. I had observed Aoibheal closely through the night When she finished, I began to feel very uptight I experienced a profound fit of agitation My body paralyzed, my mind in consternation I thought that the ground and the building were shaking And with the import of her words, I was also quaking. The giant bailiff woman strides across the hall When she stuck out that paw, I thought Id fall. She angrily grabbed me by the lug And to the front of the room, I was drug.
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Preabann an bhb seo chrigh an t-aonta, Greadann a lmha is is ard do lim s. Is aib adirtA chrsta chrona Is fada m ag sil led chlsa choradh, Is minic do sluomh th, a chro gan daonnacht, Is mithid duit strocadh do dhl na mbithe. Cosaint c bhfaighfidh t in aghaidh na cise? Focal nor thuill t a leadhb gan lthchleas. C bhfuil do shaothar saor le suochan? C bhfuil na bithe buoch de do ghnomhartha? Breathainse a bhaill seo a mhaighdean mhaorga, Ainimh n bhfaighimse mhill ar bhithe ; Breathain go cruinn a ghnaoi is a ghaga bhaitheas a chinn go boinnn a chaolchos. Bodh gurab ainimheach anmhchumtha Feicimse ceangailte a bharra gan dilt A ghile n ghrfainn, bfhearr liom bu , Is cuma na gcnmhn chinfinn choche Duine mbeadh dronn ina dhroim is fnadh Is minic sin togha fir cromshlinnenach; Ba mhinic sin gambach lansa gnomhach Is ioscaid cam ag strompa bhromhar. Is fithe folacha uireasach igin Dfhg an doirfeach foirfe in aonta, Is mid a cheana idir mhaithe na tre, A rim le sealad i gcairdeas daoine, Seinm ar cheolta sprt is aoibhneas Imirt is l ar bhord an saoi, I gcir na foirne fuineadh as file, An snamhaire ar bfhuarasta dom urraimse gilleadh. Is taibhseach taitneamhach tairbheach tritheach
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There was the babe who was bummed at her fate She clapped her hands, and jumping up straight She fiercely said: You old bag of slime Ive had my eye on you for a very long time Its often I urged you, you heartless carrion That it was time for you to think of marrying. Who will speak for you against the indictment? You dont merit one word, you indolent serpent Where is the proof of your amorous labours? Where are the women who appreciate your favours? Lets examine him carefully, O Royal Lady, We wont find on him a disabling malady Give him a once-over, thorough and complete From the top of his head to the soles of his feet. Grant you hes no maidens prayer But all the essential bits are there. Hes too pale for me; Id prefer him brown, About the cut of his physiquewell, I dont frown On people who have a hump on their back Its often the one with a bod out of whack Who is most proficient at wielding the lance And bandy legs don't tell whats in the pants. Is there a secret nefarious plan That keeps unmarried this aging man Given how hes liked by the lords of the barony And how he lives with other classes in harmony, His single state lets him sport and play Lets him eat and drink and romp all day In the qualitys company to dawdle and tarry This shirker who could easily marry Merryman seems a name for a merry man
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Meidhreach meanmnach a ainm is is aerach. Ainmh de do shrt nor ordaigh an Tiarna, Geanmna fs i gcngar liaithe! Creathaim go bonn le fonn do dhaortha, Is gairid an chabhair do labhartha baotha, Is coir mdh is dreach suite id adan
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But, in your case, I must say it just doesnt scan
A creature like you is not in Gods design 990 A gray-haired virgin is not at all divine 991 Im dying to get you in my grip 992 Your quick lip wont let you give me the slip 993 Your crime is stamped in the lines on your forehead 994 That you are age thirty and still not wed. Deich faoi thr gan cuibhreach cile. 995 Listen to me, O fellow sufferers ist liomsa a chl na bhfoighneach, 996 This guy is one among those who torture us Faighimse cnamh i gcis na maighdne; 997 The sorrow that has burdened me down, An cr is an dladh mhch gan bhr m, 998 Girls, I want to take it out on this clown. A mhn na muirne, is rn liom oc air. 999 Help me, I ask you, grab the dope; Cnaigh deirim libh, beir air, tg , 1,000 na, hurry, fetch me a rope A na gairim th is faigh dom crda; 1,001 Anne, where are you, dont get lost C bhfuil t a ine, n b ar iarraidh! Ceangailse, a Mhire, a lmha ar dtaobh thiar de! 1,002 Mary, tie his hands to the post A Mhuirinn, a Mheadhbh, a Shadhbh is a Shle, 1,003 Muireann, Meave, Shiela and Saiv 1,004 Feel free, go ahead, and skin him alive Cuirig i bhfeidhm le daigheartha dograis 1,005 As the fairy lady authorized last night, Barr gach sclta dordaigh an tsbhean, 1,006 Knot the rope good and tight Big sa bhfeol gach crda snaidhmeach, 1,007 Be generous with the pain that you deal out Tomhais go fial na pianta is cruatan 1,008 To the ass of Brian, the heartless lout; Le tin is le tiarpa Bhriain, gan trua ar bith; 1,009 Raise your hands high and lay on the whip Tg na lmha is ardaigh an sciirse, 1,010 Use elbow grease to give it some zip Is sampla smh a mhn na muirne! 1,011 He deserves no less, cut him deep with each Gearraig domhain, nor thuill s fbhar! blow 1,012 Flay him evenly from head to toe Bainig an leadhb rinn go sil de! 1,013 Let the crack of the whip be heard throughout Cloistear a chling i gcrocha ibhir Ireland 1,014 Put the fear of God in the unmarried band. Is critheadh a gcro sna crontaigh aonta. 1,015 This new legislation is such a blast Is ciallmhar ceart an t-acht , slim, 1,016 We have to record the year it was passed: Bliain an achta seo is ceart a scrobh dinn: 1,017 Figure: one thousand less one hundred and ten Ritigh, ceil, n goid de sceimhle 1,018 Leaves eight hundred and ninety which when Cad is deich faoi leith as mle, 1,019 Doubled gives the year Seventeen Eighty Dbail ceart an freastal fuidhlaigh,
Is thirling Mac an tseachtain roimhe-sin. Glacann s a peann is mo cheannsa suaite Ar eagla mfheannta is scanradh an bhuailte; An feadh do bh s ag scrobh an dta Is maithe an t aici suite ar grda,
From which well date Year One of our history. 1,021 As she grabbed a pen my head did hang 1,022 In terror of more torture from that gang; 1,023 While she was writing down the date 1,024 Which the court members round her could corroborate 1,025 I woke from my sleep, my pit of despair Do scaras lem nal, do ridheas mo shile, Is do phreabas de lim n bpin dom dhiseacht! 1,026 And realized with reliefit was just a nightmare.
1,020
An Deireadh
The End
This task of editing and translating was completed on February 27, 1998. I bid farewell to the work and wish it well on its journey around the wide world. Fill ar ais ar Chlr Chinn na Cirte/ Return to the Midnight Court Main Page

le/by
Brian Merriman
FOCLIR/GLOSSARY
ABCDEFGHILMNOPRSTU
A bhacht mirth, pleasure, sport Lines: 384, 983 achrann, gs.: -ainn tangled growth; tangle, entanglement, grip; quarrelling, strife; leisce an achrainn: seachaint an troda ( Foghl) Lines: 310, 563 acht dl, reacht ( Fghl) Lines: 65, 1015 adhairt bolster, pillow Line: 300 aduaidh frim the north Line: 43 ae liver, fig. the heart Lines: 38, 282 aga interval, period of time Line: 839 agair, pres.: agraonn plead, entreat, invoke Line: 306 aib ripe, mature, quick, clever, lively Line: 959
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aibigh tim in aois n i gcronnacht; da. an chr seo: I develop ( Fghl) Lines: 543, 579, 597 aighneas, -is argument, discussion Line: 156 il desire, wish (used with copula & le; is a. liom: I wish) Lines: 291, 827 ilos desire, craving, lasciviousness; Line: 884 ille beauty Line: 236 aimhleas harm, detriment, evil Line: 496 ainbhios ignorance Line: 561 ainic protect, save Line: 588 ainig urchideach, tubaisteach Line: 533 ainimh blemish, disfigurement Line: 968 ainimheach disfigured Line: 971 aird attention, notice, mention; gan a.: heedless Line: 315 ith
a fire or kiln Line: 301 aithis slur, reproach, disgrace, nire, tarcuisne Line: 658 aithiseach shameful, abusive, censorious Line: 220 aithlonadh lonadh ars Line: 591 itigh to argue, beseech, persuade, give evidence Line: 314 l litter, brood; clann, solrach Lines: 328, 836 lmhach brood, clutch; clann Line: 600 amaid witch, hag; foolish woman; simpleton, idiot Lines: 218, 270 anacair affliction, calamity, distress (of mind or body) Line: 192 anil breath Line: 359 anam, gs.: ~a soul, life Lines: 314, 656 anfa storm, tempest; stress, terror Line: 43 anfach stormy, rough, tempestuous, terrible, uafsach
Line: 533 anlann kitchen, tasty food (e.g. butter, meat, fish; condiment, sauce Lines: 378, 402 annla haunch, leg Line: 34 aol, gs.: aoil lime Line: 302 aonta 518, 832, 957, duine gan psadh; 827, 834, 1014, singil, gan psadh; 851, 980, "single blessedness" Lines: 818, 827, 834, 851, 932, 957, 1014 arrthach tran ( Foghl) Line: 146 rsa old, ancient, antique; an old man; uasal(?) Line: 451 ar Ah! Line: 545
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B bb baby, ainnir, cailn, babe! Line: 957 bacach cripple, beggar, tramp Line: 505 bachallach curled, ringleted Line: 232
bigh to drown; big sa bhfeol gach corda snaidhmeach: sink ye every knotty cord deep into the flesh (Dinneen) Line: 1006 baileach cruinn, ceart Lines: 543, 556 bille bailiff Lines: 60, 860, 953 baineannach female, woman Line: 904 bainis gir na bainse: an gleo ba choiteann ar phsta Line: 593 binliaigh an chrca bean chabhartha; midwife Line: 538 baisteadh to baptize; an oche baisteadh: the night I was baptized. Line: 512 baithis top, crown of head Line: 494 balbh dumb, mute, dull Line: 286 ball (body) members Lines: 359, 546, 716, 766, 967 bn, pl.: ~ta lea, grassland, uncultivated land Lines: 254, 452 baois folly; baois gan ghaois: extravagant folly Line: 502
baoth foolish, vain, giddy Lines: 758, 843, 897 barr b. na rthe: scoth na rthe Line: 830 barrach (of flax or hemp) tow; garbhlon Line: 406 barril genteel, fine, gay; genial, pleasant, decent, becoming Line: 212 bsta waist, waste Lines: 108, 395, 903 bastallach bombastic, captious; gay, showy, flashy Line: 215 b, pl. bithe cailn, gbhean Lines: 286, 966; pl. 68, 178, 792, 805, 828, 833, 871, 929, 952, 968 beachanta waspish, stinging, fretful; mar do bheadh beach ( Foghl) Line: 215 baltais wet-lipped Line: 150 beann peak, point; 138: binn an teampaill: an falla aonair a bh ina sheasamh i mbl. a 1780 de sheanteampall Mhochunna sa bhFiacail; 586: na beanna a bh ar chinn na mban le had n formad; horns of jealousy Line: 138 beart proceeding, action, transaction Lines: 117, 529 bhsta 395: waist; waste: 103, 903
Lines: 103, 395, 903 bogach sprightly, vigorous, 814, 953: forceful; 858: vivacious; go b.: with a lively interest Lines: 191, 814, 858, 953 bogadh start, jump Lines: 690, 916 boma a beam, a plank, a tall person; b. limhe: a very long hand (Dinneen); lmh srmhr ( Foghl) Lines: 58, 953 biotille uisce beatha Line: 594 bleacht, gsm. ~; gsf & npl. ~a milk; milch, copious Lines: 368, 471 blogam mouthful, sip, sup Line: 294 bloscadh blush, radiance Line: 767 bodach churl; malra bodacha: lusty youth (Dinneen) Lines: 632, 781 bolgach big-bellied, bulging Line: 47 bonn bonn mo ghomhartha: mar phians anuas orm de dheasca mo ghnomhartha Line: 497 bonsach javelin, stout rod, switch; b. cailn n girs: a slip of a girl Line: 106
borracach gbhean mhr bhog ( Foghl) Line: 105 borradh swelling up, being puffed up; b. na drise: concupiscence Lines: 836, 934 borraim swell; borrtha: fsta, ln Lines: 601, 836, 934 bos palm (of the hand); b. ar do bhal: ist Line: 906 bta ochtar na cabhlach (the lower part of the torso) ( Foghl) Line: 110 brid neck, breast, bust; ar bh. a chile: ar aon dul, ar chothrom Lines: 235, 835 brislad, pl.: -id or -id bracelet, a garland of flowers Line: 268 bre(tha) beauty Line: 766 brealln blunderer, fool; brealln spirt: inseach Line: 516 brantas rottenness, stench, filth Line: 934 breathn observation, examination, judgment; ag ileamh breathnaithe: chun go bhfeicf m ( Foghl) Line: 280 brdeach bride; ainnir, gbhean Lines: 834, 864
briodar sour curdled milk; bainne ramhar Line: 840 brg shoe, brogue, boot, footwear; brigdheas: of nicely shaped boot (Dinneen) Line: 215 brollach breast, bosom Line: 110 brothallach hot, sultry Line: 106 bruinneall fair maiden (cf. broinn, womb, belly, breast and geal, bright) Line: 348 bruis brush Line: 708 bua victory, triumph; 863, br chun buaite: winning odds ( Foghl) Lines: 68, 690, 863 buach victorious, triumphant Line: 863 buaigh, vn. -achan to win, gain, get; defeat, overcome; succeed Lines: 336, 348, 795 buailteoir striker, beater, thresher Line: 754 buaireamh sorrow, vexation (=buairt) Line: 154 bualadh, gs. buailte a striking, beating; scanradh an bhuailte: terror of being beaten (Dinneen)
Line: 1022 Bucks cinel fata Line: 402 bcla buckle Line: 267 bclach buckled (of shoes), ringleted (of hair) Line: 232 buile madness, frenzy; excitement Line: 880 buinneamhach active Line: 618 buonmhar fond of company, having a large following; with abundant forces Line: 72 bunc infant Line: 534
C cba cape, cloak Line: 135 cabhail trunk, torso; the body of a shirt, coat, etc., a womans bodice, a camisole Lines: 379, 487, 875 cafaire prater Line: pl. 779
ca lamenting, weeping Line: 210 cidh holy, chaste, pure, famous, excellent; 191: as subst.: an excellent person Line: 191 caidhp, gs.: ~e coif, lady's bonnet, cap Line: 258 cailc chalk; gs. in sense of beauty Line: 242 caile girl, wench, hussy Lines: 219, 241 cailleach a veiled woman, a nun, a celibate woman (cf. caille: a veil); an old woman, a hag; 179: cailleacha dubha: unwed women; 286: c. crta: women who tell fortunes with cards (Dinneen), old maid, the card game ( Foghl) Lines: 179, 218, 286, 316 cim fault, blemish; gan ch.: flawless Lines: 255, 627 cimric cambric Line: 394 cairdeas cairdeas Lines: 128, 982 calaois deceit, fraud Line: 90 calcadh hardening Line: 816
callid achrann, gleo; noise, wrangle, quarrel Line: 533 cam bent, crooked; distorted, wrong; 90: injustice, unfairness, inequity Lines: 90, 616, 978 cmas affectation Line: 442 cmas act of finding fault, disparagement; affectation Line: 442 canbhs canvas Line: 395 caoiche blindness Line: 603 caoin gentle, mild, tender, kind Line: 203 caoineas, gs. -nis smoothness, gentleness Line: 121 caomhn to cherish, preserve, protect; preservation, protection Line: 177 caor glowing object, flame; c. thine: fire-ball, meteor, thunderbolt, a mass of fire Lines: pl. 24, 844 cs-lag weak, spent Line: 892 catachas heat (as in cats, etc.); vigour, passion; catachas draighin; force, venom, fire, fury, wrath
Line: 624 cad a hundred; cad is deich as mle: 1,000-110=890; 1019: dbail an freastal fuollach: 890*2=1780 Line: 1018 cadfa senses, mental powers Lines: 544, 950 ceanasach affectionate, esteemed Lines: 216, 427 ceangail, pp. ~te to tie, bind (in marriage) Lines: 217, 225, 474, 820, 874 ceannaithe bought and paid for Line: 217 ceannas headship, sovreeignty, authority, command; feidhm, acmhainn ( Foghl) Lines: 78, 482 ceannasach powerful, commanding; 171: as subst.: commander Lines: 171, 274 ceannfort commander, leader Line: 78 ceansa gentle, meek, tame Lines: 124, 609 ceantar, gs. -air district Lines: 55, 847 ceapaithe well-formed; e.g. buachaill ceapaithe: well-built youth Line: 216 ceart
proper, correct; 257, 260: proper share; 529: accuracy Lines: 49, 257, 260, 336, 529, 655, 1015, 1016 ceil 398: to conceal, cover; 878: deny; 1017: withdraw, subtract Lines: 398, 878, 1017 ceirtln ball of yarn, thread Line: 302 ceisteoir duine amhrasach Line: 868 ciabh lock of hair, hair of the head Line: 803 ciantach old, ancient; as subst.: an old man; beirim gan sps dbh pis na gciantach: I now permit you to to persecute the oldsters (Dinneen) Line: 889 ciarsr (hand)kerchief Line: 388 cilln a little church, cell, hoard, nest-egg, treasure Line: 301 cinnteach fixed, definite; as subst. a covetous, niggardly or mean person Line: pl. 791 cinnteacht stint, stinginess Line: 501 coradh to comb, combing Line: 960 cos rent, tax, tribute Line: 78 cladhartha
villainous, spineless, cowardly Line: 867 clagarnach clatter; pelting rain Line: 414 claomh a sword; c. na mbonsach: prob. a plant of some sort Line: 342 clampar wrangle, quarrel, commotion, trouble Line: 88 claon deceit, perversity; claon le: partiality to; claonbheart: a deceitful act Lines: 117, 180, 443, 457, 728, 867 claon sloping, inclined, inclined or partial to; ainmh claon: beast of prey, allta Line: 728 clr clr na mara: the broad ocean Line: 742 cleacht to perform habitually, to practise Line: 66 cleas or clis trick Line: 127 cling clink, tinkle, ring Line: 1013 cl dealbh, aghaidh, form, shape, appearance Lines: 492, 552, 569, 606, 650, 857 clogh, vn.: clo, pp.: clote to wear down, subdue Line: 122 cl shelter; 995: shelter, support
Lines: 180, 376, 482, 995 clmh down, feathers Line: 670 cnaiste bed side-rail; cliathn leaba Line: 714 cn nut; fig. choice flower; choice one Lines: 96, 809 cochall eangach Line: 631 cogar whisper Lines: 296, 541, 930 coife coif, a woman's cap Line: 390 coigeal distaff Line: 301 coilen pup, whelp; gnach Line: 581 coillte gelded, castrated; ruined, destroyed Line: 779 coim cloak, skirt, shelter; fig. relief, succour; 381: waist Lines: 317, 381 coimse bounds; gan ch.: thar barr; 869: the middle class; tl na coimse: the offspring of the fairly well-to-do (Dinneen) Lines: 169, 411, 509, 869 coinneal (marriage) candle
Line: 469 cip gang; cip na sride: street urchins Line: 504 coir crime, offence, fault, guilt Line: 993 cir, gs.: -ra jusitice, equity, proper share, due; 417, 602: proper equipment (cir adaigh: rig-out); 895: proprietary Lines: 249, 417, 602, 895 ciriil suitable, proper Lines: 216, 265, 581 coiste jury Line: 539 colgach bearded, bristling, angry Line: 48 coll(?), gs.: cuill hazel tree; a chief Line: 352 comhalta foster-brother -sister, fellow, member, class, kind Line: 128 comhar co-operation, partnership, company Lines: 409, 482, 887, 985 conartach a rough, large-limbed person Line: 401 cngar nearness, proximity Line: 432 cngas nearness, closeness, relationship, relative
Line: 664 conn ciall, sense, reason Line: 493 connartach a rough; a large-limbed or greedy person Line: 401 connsach (?) Lines: 105, 455 crach shapely, comely, pleasant, proper Lines: 216, 265, 581 corda cord, string, rope Line: 456 corp body; the main part, the middle; c. na sride: lr an bhthair Line: 303 corraigh move, stir Line: 39 cortha tuirseach Lines: 31, 663 cshnte ar leathadh Line: 703 cothrom fair play, fairness, equity Line: 669 crifeacht piety Line: 293 crigh agonize, torment, vex Lines: 174, 207, 957
crnas, gs.: -is affliction, vexation, annoyance Line: 284 cranda stunted, weathered, decrepit, old, knarled Line: 755 craorag bright red, crimson Line: 262 creach foray; booty, plunder, prey; mo chreach: woe is me Lines: 66, 183, 223 crachtach gashed, wounded Line: 54 creathann to shake Lines: 493, 562, 991 crice creaking thing, skeleton Line: 555 creim gnawing, corrosion; a bite, gnawing pain Line: 603 creimeach abusive, corrosive, biting, defective Line: 54 creimneach corrosive Lines: 54, 755 croch means Line: 436 croch 113: end; 76, 1013: territory; 436: means; 316, 371: prosperity, success, benefit, profit; 177: marriage (cf. cailn a chur i gcr.: to get a girl, daughter, married)
Lines: 76, 113, 316, 371, 436, 1013 crontach an old person Line: 1014 crios girdle, belt, waist-band Line: 708 crithim to tremble, shake Line: 464 crobhaire strong, able person Lines: 487, 627 croitheadh to shake Line: 627 cromadh act of bending, stooping Line: 850 cr act of milking Line: 669 cruach rick, heap Line: 796 crca hook, crook Line: 135 crsta a crust of bread, of frost; hard, hardy person; close-fisted miser; a clod, a useless person Line: 959 cuairt visit; 654: round; 922 journey Lines: 355, 654, 796, 922 cual faggot, bundle, heap; heap of bones
Line: 686 cuardach wandering, searching, given to wandering from house to house Line: 222 cuardaitheoir a searcher Line: 753 cuibhreach binding, fetter; trammel Lines: 569, 872 cuibhreach binding, fetter, trammel, restraint, yoke Lines: 569, 631, 759, 872, 994 cuigeann churn, churning, churn contents; im, soitheach ln duachtar Line: 796 cil corner, nook Line: 404 cuil, pl. ~eanna a fly Line: 37 cuilithe core, bosom, central portion Line: 38 cuilt quilt Line: 408 cuimseach tolerable, moderate, competent, neat Line: 753 cuing yoke; dl chuinge na clire: an psadh Lines: 474,500, 587, 945 cuinneog churn Line: 536
cuireadh iarraidh, invitation Line: 492 cuisleach veined, strong-armed Line: 581 cl poll of hair, crown of the head; 376: backing supporter Lines: 135, 257, 258, 299, 376, 554, 700, 960 culaith suit, dress Line: 256 cumainnn bu prob. a plant of some sort Line: 343 cumann affection, love; society, club; acquaintance, confidence; effort Lines: 283, 415, 622 cumas capability, power; 143-4: an tsbhean chumais: the powerful fairy woman Lines: 144, 547, 621, 626, 917, 940 cumha anger, sorrow; mo ch.: alas Lines: 749, 779, 810; gs. 816 cumhdach cover, protection, shelter Line: 571 cplach double-plaited (of hair), plaited, in folds Line: 232 cuthach rage, fury Line: 942
D daigheartha igneous, fiery; stabbing, painful Lines: 868, 1004 daille blindness Line: 603 daingean fortified, solid, strong, steadfast, constant, intense Lines: 73, 142, 310, 339, 576 danartha cruel, barbarous Line: 496 daoirse slavery, bondage, oppression; dearness, costliness Line: 114 daonnacht humanity, kindness; trua, taise Line: 961 daor base, servile; hard, severe; costly, dear Lines: 268, 784 daoradh enslaving, convicting, condemning Lines: 786, 991 dsacht daring, audacity, madness, fury, noise Line: 949 dathaoibheann lainn le feiscint Line: 590 dealbh destitute, poor, bare, empty, bleak Lines: 408, 807, 851 deamhan, gs.: -in demon, the devil
Line: 306 dearfa attested, proved; sure, certain Lines: 275, 612 dearil frail, feeble, puny; cold, bleak, chilly; mean, lowly Line: 361 dirc, gs.: ~e charity, alms-giving Lines: 196, 678, 364 dirceoir bochtn, bacach Line: 868 deisigh to dress, adorn, improve; d. anall : bring him hither Line: 610 diachair pain, affliction, distress Line: 807 dble vile, worthless, mean, worn, withered, destitute; public, common; dearbhadh (go) dble ar bhobla: public sworn testimony was given (Dinneen) Lines: 94, 333 dicheall sr-iarracht Line: 383 dogadh tnthadh, lag, lagadh ( Foghl) Line: 100 dogha the worst, the dregs; 85: d. gach daoirse: togha gach donais; rogha gach d.: togha gach gramaisc (rabble or mob) ( Foghl) Lines: 85, 321 dograis fervour, zeal; fervent love; kindred affection Line: 1004
doltas vengeance Line: 495 don protection, shelter; dfhir nach don: fir gan phsadh Lines: 673, 896, 926 donmhar protective Line: 589 dothach wanting, deficient, needy, destitute Line: 187 dth loss, deprivation; mo dhth: alas; 76: m-dh; 511: mo dh.: faror; 833: prinn; 763: easpa Line: 511 dlisteanach legitimate child Line: 606 dochrach harmful, hurtful, baneful, pernicious Line: 85 doghrainn affliction, hardship, difficulty; le d.: with difficulty, harship Line: 206 digh hope, trust confidence, 365, 865, is d.: surely; 562, doubtless; 739, an d.: can it be?; n d.: it cannot be; dom dh.: I imagine Lines: 365, 562, 693, 739, 811, 865 doilbhe darkness, gloom, melancholy, sadness Line: 86 doilbhir dark, gloomy, cheerless, sad Line: 187 doilosach sorrowful, remorseful, melancholy
Line: 205 doineantach cheerless, cold-mannered, person; gloomy old person Line: 205 doirfeach sullen, dissatisfied person Line: 980 domhain deep Lines: 88, 1011 donn intensifier: very Lines: 205, 414, 496 dorrga surly, gruff Line: 61 drab stain, spot; dirt or mud caught up by the dress Line: 52 draid mouth, grin, grimace, grinning visage Line: 56 draighean blackthorn (stick); bristling, angry appearance; reluctance, boorishness Lines: 156, 318, 360, 624 draocht magic; d. na drise: the love charm (Dinneen) Lines: 334, 344 drandal gum(s), (toothless) mouth, the mouth Line: 56 draoibeal mud, mire Line: 52 dreach look, expression, aspect Line: 857
dreas while, tamall, sps Line: 667 dreoite decayed Lines: 333, 684 drong body of people, group, set, faction Line: 787 dronn hump Line: 975 drs; gs.: -is adultery, fornication Lines: 818, g. 934 duais gloom, dejection, trouble, sorrow, travail Line: 360 duaiseach gloomy, darksome, cheerless, dejected, grim Line: 187 duamhar toilsome, troublesome Line: 187 dubhach dismal, gloomy, melancholy, sorrowful Lines: 63, 679 dubhcheilt complete denial Line: 86 dchan darkening Line: 717 dghlas a firm lock (glas=lock); ag ceangal mo shl i nd. nallta: locking my eyes firmly in sleep (Dinneen) Line: 36
dil, gs.: ~e desire, fondness, liking Lines: 738, 884 Dileamh Creator Line: 815 dladh ?melancholy, sadness (cf. dubhlaitheach, melancholy, serious, grave, in Dinneen) Line: 997 dr rigid, solid, hardy, tough, dour, grim, obstinate Line: 86 durdam murmur, chatter; durdam brige: racaireacht itheach Line: 527
E acht feat, exploit, achievement Line: 936 ide here: sacerdotal vestments Line: 764 igh, pres.: ann to cry out, scream; call upon, beseech, complain Line: 314 ileamh claim, demand Line: 501 ileamh claim, demand Lines: 382, 501 iric
compensatory payment for death or injury; reparation, retribution, compensation, reward Line: 314 irim a course, a riding or faring forth; vigour, ability, faculty, desire Line: 40
F fabhar favour, influence Line: 90 fachnaoid derision, mockery; act of chaffing, joking; ag f. faoi dhuine: scoffing at someone Line: 326 fachtna power, tyranny, haughtiness ( Foghl) Line: 89 faghairt temper (metal); fire, fervour, mettle, spirit; (glint of) anger; blade, daggers Lines: 155, 356 fidh, pl. fithe prophet, seer; fidhbhean: prophetess Lines: 168, 415, 813, 828, 829 fidhiil prophetic, wise, sagacious Line: 221 faill neglect, negligence, delay, omission Line: 90 finneach ringed, ringleted Line: 232
faire a watch, wake; faire!: fie! Lines: 252, 418, 457 falcha begrudging, spiteful; mean, paltry; robber Line: 456 falsa wrong, false Lines: 802, 894 falsacht falseness, laziness; deceit, knavery; partiality, wrongs Lines: 92, 122 flta feeble Lines: 892, 901 fmaire stroller, idler Line: 756 fn straying, wandering; astray Lines: 30, 724; gs. 81, 728 fann weak; as subst. 87, 123 Lines: 87, 123, 464, 756, 848 faolras wildness, want of cultivation, wantonness; faoile, ceal saothraithe, ceal psta ( Foghl) Line: 96 faon supine, limp, languid, subdued, intent Line: 862 farradh in phr.: i bhf.: in the company of, along with, beside Line: 93 fsil facings (of a garment) Line: 261
fscadh squeeze, pressing, 243: luid gan f.: an untidy slut; 410: oozing, upspringing Lines: 243, 396, 711, 714, 761 fslach upstart Line: 82 fth cause, reason, motive, explanation; n chuirim i bhf. : I do not take him/it into account (Dinneen) Lines: 891, 979 feacadh act of bending Line: 715 fachaint, gs.: -ana aspect Line: 552 fealladh betraying, to prove false to Line: 83 feam tail, stalk, stem, rod; a churl Line: 756 feann to flay, skin Line: 876 feannadh act of flaying, skinning Lines: 84, gs. 1022 fearradach strong, muscular Line: 574 fearthainn to rain; dfh.: which rained, descended Line: 497 feasach knowing, knowledgeable; is feasach dom: is eol dom
Lines: 429, 477, 675 feasach knowing, skillful; is f. dom: I know Lines: 213, 429, 447, 675 feidhm 318, 331, 525, 732, 864, substance; 901, usefulness; 356, 625, effect; 1004: execution Lines: 318, 331, 356, 525, 625, 732, 864, 1004 feighil act of caring, vigilance, watchfulness, care; i bhf. mo chaochta: with intent to deceive me Lines: 557, 901 filtiil festive, regular Line: 635 feisteas aoidheacht, coth Line: 480 fith vein, nerve; 798, 953: desire Lines: 531; gs. 798, 953 feithid insect, beast, adder or serpent Line: 728 feoidh act of pining Line: 96 feoidhim I pine Line: 685 feoigh, pp. feoite to decay, wither Lines: 96, 683 feoiteach withered person Line: 689; pl. 919 feoithneach
withered grass ? ( Foghl) Line: 351 feorainn grassy place; creeping bent-grass Lines: 28, 730 feosach withered, bearded, aged Line: 615 fiaile 411, weeds; 80, 849, 920, rubbish, wastrels Lines: 80, 411, 849, 920 fintas wildness, fierceness, wilderness Line: 913 filleadh form, turn; f. le file: to change over to a life of enjoyment Lines: 551, 784 fillte returned, come back; charged, supplied; closely applied Line: 257 foch feud, fight, fury, rage, anger (cf. fochmhar) Line: 935 fochmhar raging, fierce Lines: 43, 163, 357, 792 fon wine Line: gs. 451; pl. 776 fiuchadh boiling, ebullience, excitement Line: 156 fleascach wretch, rascal, trickster Line: 658 floch chickweed, fligweed
Line: 80 foclach wordy, verbose, loquacious Line: 221 fgair to shout Line: 635 fogha lunge, attack, an attempt, proximity Lines: 541, 702, 712 foghail plundering, pillaging; gadaocht Lines: 83, 722 foighne patience Line: 646 fill! Easy! Gently! Line: 418 fin, pres. fnann serve, be of use to, avail, benefit Line: 923 foireann, gs. foirne group of people, body, company Lines: 928, 985 foirfe complete, perfect; aged, mature Line: 980 foirfeach aged, mature person, elder Line: 892 fiseach over-fed, pampered, exuberant; ? smh, ciin Line: 595 folach hidden, secret Line: 979
folir (Used negatively with copula) n f.: it is necessary Line: 928 folaithe hidden, shaded Line: 37 folcadh, pl.: -ctha act of bathing, washing, dipping, seeping; weeping, a flood of tears Line: 163 follin healthy, wholesome Line: 582 folt hair, locks, tresses Line: 224 fonnsa hoops (in womens dresses), nooses Lines: 268, 456 foraire brave man, sentry, guard, watchman, lookout Line: 429 frsa force Lines: 536, 888 fothram 628, 913: stirring, promptings; 849., 929: bluster Lines: 628, 849, 913, 929 fras copious, profuse, abundant Line: 412 freastal lot, number; f. fuollach: remainder after subtraction Line: 1019 frnse fringe Line: 397 frth
(pf. passive of faighim) was found; to find, get, receive; cr froth ?: how came it all? Line: 418 fuadach plundering, carrying off; the severe blowing of a storm, a squall; 358, f. nimhe: a venomous disposition (Dinneen); 194: sciobadh chun siil ( Foghl) Lines: 43, 194, 358 fuadar rush, hurry, bustle; presage, omen; tendency, inclination; activity; 193: attitude; 679: prospect Lines: 193, 679 fuadrach active, nimble, bustling, vigorous Lines: 212, 357 fuaid a remnant, a witch Line: 218 fuaraigh comfort, console, relieve Line: 832 fuar becoming cool, cooling Line: 772 fuineadh do fuineadh as file: who sprang from noble stock Line: 985 fuinneamh energy, force, vigour, pep, spirit Lines: 155, 622, 720, 952 fuollach remaining Line: 1019
G
g need, requirement; danger, peril Lines: 468, 593, 942 gbhail 196: going; 388: playing; 786: placing under arrest Lines: 196, 388, 786 gbhair needy Lines: 765, 847 gabhal forked beams from which to hang cauldron, hip-roof, a fork Lines: 299, 413, 893 gad withe, rope Line: 380 gg chap, crack in skin Line: 398 gaibhdeach strong, substantial, stout-calved; an mhsach gh.: the stout-calved woman (Dinneen) Line: 48 gir cry, shout Line: 447 gairgeach harsh, gruff, surly, irritable Lines: 48, 222 galar, gs.: -ir disease Line: 780 glbha ? Blustering Line: 416 gambach lumpy, chunky; (of leg) gammy, game, bowlegged; awkward Line: 977
gandal gander Line: 616 gann poor Line: 847 gaois wisdom; baois gan ghaois: extravagant folly Lines: 270, 502, 637 garg acrid, bitter, rude, harsh, rough, fierce; labhairt go g.: to speak roughly Line: 559 garlach fledgling (bird or fig. Human), child, kid, brat, urchin Line: 838 grtha shouting, clamoring Line: 416 Grus Garus Mills, Co. Clare Line: 460 gas stalk, stem; sprig, shoot, frond; fig. stripling, scion Line: 335 gealach brightness, light; ag gealaigh: mad, in a white rage, frenzied Line: 513 geall promise, expectation Line: 893 gealtach crazed, insaned person; wild, panic-stricken person Line: 273 geanma chaste, pure Line: 990 geanil
loving, lovable, decent, modest, acceptable Line: 214 geoiseach slender, lanky Line: 616 giodamach restless, unsteadhy, uneasy; giddy, frisky, jaunty Line: 327 ginach downy growth (on green, unripe oats, for instance); fig. youngster, immature person Line: 838 glaoch i.e. ag gairm is ag ileamh d Line: 516 gliceas cleverness, ingenuity Line: 248 glnra glaze, shape, cut; g. madain: the cut of my forehead Line: 551 glugar caint dchille Line: 596 gnaoi beauty, comeliness; regard Line: 819 gnaoiil pleasant, delightful, gentle, respectable, handsome Line: 214 gn or gnaoi kind; appearance Line: 550 gnis face, mien, countenance Lines: 166, 233, 490, 550 goid
to steal, to snatch away Line: 1017 goil to weep, to cry (softly) Line: 163 goill to grieve, to feel hurt, to be vexed, afflicted or distressed; used with ar Line: 73 goin wound, stab, hurt Line: ?890 gola orifice Line: 893 gotha, pl,: ~ appearance, attitude, gesture, pose, movement, activity Lines: 164, 893 gradam esteem, distinction, respect, regard Line: 436 griniil hateful, abhorrent Line: 222 grare stud-horse; warrior or champion, excellent man Line: 624 gramasc rabble, mob, low people Line: 462 grnna ugly, poor, wretched, unfortunate Lines: 62, 373 greadadh beating Line: 536 greamaithe gripped, fixed, fastened, secured; adhered, stuck
Lines: 36, 430 greim, pl.: greamanna grip, grasp, hold; a bite; bit, morsel (of food); 525: an item Lines: 294, 340, 525 grithe valuables, ornaments, trinkets, presents Line: 795 gros rash, blotch Line: 398 grosach hot ashes, embers; tine, loscadh Line: 560 gruaidh cheek; gruaidhdheas: fine-featured Line: 214 guais danger, hazard; enterprise, ambition Line: 272 gnga posterior, haunch Line: 709 gustalach well-to-do, wealthy, resourceful, enterprising, self-important Line: 416
H hda hood Line: 259

iaigh to close, shut, cover; enclose, encompass Line: 282 iall thong, leash, hide Line: 941 Inid Shrovetide Lines: 289, 350 ogair sensitive, delicate, high-and-mighty; na cumhachtaigh ogair: the higher powers, the clergy Line: 907 iomadil numerous, plentiful, abundant, poimpeach, mrchiseach Lines: 146, 777, 904 iomin, gs.: -an driving, ball-playing, hurling Line: 276 ionladh to wash; washing, ablutions Line: 401 or or for outline, likeness, image Lines: 6, 550 ioscaid hollow at back of knee, knee Line: 978 sle lowness, lowliness Line: 451
L labhairt, pl. labhartha

act of speaking; pl.: words Lines: 399, 719; pl. 658, 991 lbrtha base, vulgar, plebeian Line: 634 lads gliocas, foolish talk, impertinence, nonsense Line: 442 lagar weakness, faintness; 194: mo l.: alas Lines: 194, 332 laigide weaker; an laigide an chil: is a field any the poorer for Line: 735 lithreach present, immediate, without delay Line: 675 lmhainn, npl. ~ or limhne glove Lines: 267, 398 lannil spacious, epithet of a mansion, erect Line: 141 lansa lance; tall active youth, a lively vigorous person Lines: 618, 977 lathach mud, slime Line: 134 leabhair lissome, svelt, long and graceful Line: 228487 leadhb strip, rag; skin Lines: 420, 964, 1012 leadhbach torn in strips, tatters, shabby
Line: 248 leagaithe stretched out Line: 460 leigh, pres.: -nn; fut.: -faidh; vn.: le to dwindle, waste away Line: 558 leamhas, gs.: -ais inanity, silliness Lines: 290, 527, 743 lean 193: to continue; 919: to follow Lines: 193, 919 lann learning, experience Line: 476 leath to spread; do leathain mo lthe: I changed colour Line: 954 leath a side, a district; faoi leith: apart, separately, severally Line: 1018 leibide careless, slovenly; softy, fool Lines: 377, 616 ligh examine Line: 916 lir clear, lucid, distinct; go l.: wholly, entirely, all, altogether Lines: 225, 391, 678, 704 lire duine mr; a person of sturdy build Line: 440 lirscrios total destruction, devastation Lines: 84, 88
lithe greyness, hoariness, decay or decline, old age, rot; mo chro "my heart filled with the shadows of age" (Dinneen) Line: 758 leitheadach potent, important Line: 479 leithre slope, one side; lim ar leithre: a leap to one side; fig. an illegitimate offspring Line: 604 liaith to age, go grey Line: 512 ligitheach a remnant, reject Line: 107 lon flax, linen Line: 406 lonta full Lines: 10, 147, 254, 602, 757 liosta slow, tedious, irksome, tiresome, persistent, importunate Lines: 107, 248 lobhar leper Line: 719 locht fault Lines: 226, 614 lofa rotten, putrid, corrupted Line: 245 loinnir light, brightness, brilliance, radiance
Line: 717 loisc, vn.: loscadh burn, scorch, sear, torment; torture, anxiety Lines: 157, 225 loise light, flare Line: 647 listeach a sluggard, lazy person, clown Lines: 107, 245, 518 lom bare; bareness, poverty Line: 391 lom (vt.) to seize, chafe; 498: which seized Lines: 39, 498 lom (adj.) bare; 875 [go] lom Line: 875 lomrach fleeciness, woolliness; draped, tapestried Line: 141 lonrach bright, glittering, shiny Lines: 239, 490 lopach lout (lopaigh gan bhr: incapable louts) Line: 374 lot hurt, wound, injury, damage; mo l.: O ruin! Alas! Line: 223 luaidhe lead Line: 681 luaimneach nimble, restless; aib, lofa ( Foghl) Lines: 145, 753
luaith ashes; luaith-ghros: luaith n fuollach na tine ag us beo gan mchadh ( Foghl) Line: 298 luascann to rock, move Line: 565 luath quick, speedy Line: 800 lbach vigorous, dexterous Line: 136 lbaire crafty person, twister Line: 750 lfar agile, active, athletic; teann, daingean Line: 580 lu disposition, proneness Lines: 88, 404, 811 luibh, gs. ~e, pl. ~eanna herb, plant Lines: 29, 80, 263, 333, 340, 642 luid scrap, tatter, shred, rag; slut, trull Lines: 243, 409 lide less, minus; an lide an lthair: is a site any the less for Line: 735 luigheamh shape, form Lines: 545, 626 lithchrith quaking Line: 716
litheach sinewy, strong Line: 574 lithne sinews, tendons, muscles Line: 681 lth movement, motion, strength, vigour, activity Line: 880 lthchleas athletic exercise Line: 964
M m plain, territory; r gach m.: king of all lands Line: 57 mchail blemish, defect Line: 233 macnas playfulness, dalliance, wantonness, voluptuousness, sensuality, luxury Line: 325 mgach heavy-footed, clumsy Line: 441 magairln orchid; m. meidhreach: early purple orchid (Dinneen); also diminutive of magairle: testicle Line: 341 maighre salmon; handsome girl, handsome person Lines: 623, 695 maise
adornment, beauty Line: 550 maiseamhach comely, handsom, elegant Line: 140 mla a sack Line: 374 malpaire sturdy, hardy person Line: 441 malra coll.: boys, youngsters, young rabble Line: 781 mnla gentle, gracious, pleasant Lines: 203, 855 mantach gap-toothed, toothless Line: 56 martas body, frame, posterior; m. trom is droim gan suathadh: a solid torso and a steady back (Dinneen) Line: 771 marthain, gs.: -ana existence, lastingness, subsistence Line: 450 msach having or relating to large hips, thighs, or buttocks; one with large hips or thighs Lines: 47, 441 mascalach masculine, manly, brave, sturdy Line: 695 mata a mat Line: 407
meabhair mind, sense, memory, consciousness, awareness Line: 40 meadar wooden drinking-cup; churn Line: 378 madhair august, majestic (Dinneen) Line: 53 meadhg whey Line: 840 meall ball, globe, lump, mass, tumour Line: 617 meall beguile, charm, entice, delude, deceive Line: 811 mealladh na minnseach luibh igin, de rir dealraimh ( Foghl); herb used in witchcraft (Dinneen) Line: 342 maraocht fingering, playing with Line: 706 marlag slender-fingered Line: 150 meath decline, decay, fail, deteriorate Lines: 98, 367 mid amount, quantity, degree Line: 763 meill na mbuailte prob. a plant of some sort Line: 341
meiriad myriad; milleadh m.: destroying myriads Line: 630 mirscreach scarred, cracked, fissured, chapped, rugged Line: 56 mian mind; a wish, desire; pleasure, delight; m. a dtoile: their lust Line: 933 mias board, table; dish Line: 378 mbhasach ill-behaved, ill-mannered, shameless Line: 223 mchuibheasach unfitting, unseemly, indecorous Line: 701 milisbhog sweetly soft Line: 150 milleann destroy; 968, render inefficient Lines: 556, 630, 881, 968 mionn oath; clr na m.: the witness table Line: 152 mr, gs.: ~e; pl.: ~eanna rag, tatter Line: 374 misde (combined form of measa de, used with copula) is misde (do): it matters (to), n misde (go): it is no harm to (that); cr mhiste m rith in adchas: what does it matter if I despair Line: 250 mstaid, gs.: ~e bad state, ill condition
Line: 364 mithid due, convenient, time; is mithid: it is high time Line: 757 modh mode, manner, system; modh is dreach: pretty apparent Line: 993 modhil well-behaved, mannerly, mild, gentle, modest; mild gentle person Line: 721 mogall mesh, husk, shell, fruit-cluster; 112: over-ripe; 632: mogallfhuil: noble blood; Lines: 112, 632 moirt lees, dregs, dead-and-alive person; moirt gan subhachas: a cheerless old fellow Line: 710 molt a wether; sulky, morose person; shaggy wench ( Foghl) Line: 223 mrgach a great person, a proud, stately person Line: 108 mrtas pride, haughtiness, boastfulness Line: 938 mch smother, suffocate, quench, extinguish, dull, deaden; 325: mchta: sunk Lines: 325, 997 muinchille sleeve Line: 394 muirear charge, encumbrance, burden, load Line: 104
muirn confused noise, tumult; affection, endearment, tenderness Line: 998 mustar muster, assembly, display, ostentation, bluff Line: 939
N naondacht childlike qualities, youthfulness, innocence, beauty Line: 270 nir (Is) n. (le): ashamed, reluctant Lines: 103, 239, 713 naomh saint: dar colainn na ~: on the body of saints? Line: 383 nimad a minute Line: 468
O odhar liath, crona ( Foghl) Line: 205 oighear ice Line: 682 inmhid simpleton, fool; jester, buffoon Line: 218 orlach
tatter Line: 461 ortha prayer, incantation, spell, charm Line: 334 osna, pl.: ~ sigh Line: 164
P p p lucht seinnte: oc do cheoltir Line: 594 pil ? Pavement (pbhil i nDinneen) Line: 729 pairilis paralysis, palsy, any trembling of the limbs; p. bhis: the paralysis of death Line: 950 pis passion, suffering Lines: 883, 889 peilt skin, pelt; im ph.: naked Line: 522 pist reptile, snake, monster Line: 675 pob a pipe or tube of any kind; the neck or throat Line: 235 pluid blanket
Line: 409 pnsa Treadraighe an phnsa: Tradree, land of fruitful beans Line: 455 posid posset, a warm drink, medicinal draught Line: 535 post phosta go pilar: from post to pillar Line: 664 prinn hurry, rush, urgent need, exigency Lines: 834, 944 preabaire bouncing, dashing person Line: 613 priacal peril, risk; ar do ph.: at your own risk, at your peril Line: 133 pscadh oozing, upspringing Line: 410 puth puff, whiff Line: 676
R rabharta spring tide, flood Line: 648 radaireacht act of ranting; strolling, revelling, flirting, courting Line: 277 ragairne
act of rambling and revelling at night, roistering, rakishness, dissipation Line: 277 rig fit, bout, attack Lines: 762, 939 ramhadas tagarthacht Line: 770 ramhinn spade Line: 300 ramsach romping, gamboling, sportive Line: 801 r moon; time, period Lines: 168, 288, 530, 566 reacht law, statute Lines: 65, 367 ridh to open Line: 1025 riteach disentangling, unravelling, fixing Line: 224 riar to entertain Line: 747 rceach vagabond, wastrel Line: 789 rinn point, tip; top, apex; r. go sil: from head to heel Line: 1012 rinseach
? aindeiseoir ( Foghl), i.e. poor, unfortunate person Line: 897 romh enumeration; gan r.: nach fidir cur sos orthu Line: 790 ros linseed, flax-seed Line: 303 ruaig to drive, force; do ruaig: do chuir chun sil Line: 565 rufa ruff Line: 394
S saighead an arrow; s. chun luais : corraigh leis an bhfuascailt ( Foghl) Line: 354 saighid to incite, provoke; thrusting, gulping Line: 596 sil, pl.: -la heel Lines: 265, 554, 1012 saill salted meat, fat meat Line: 775 smh socair, compordach; 870: uasal; 1010: lainn, bre; sampla s.: splendid sample Lines: 255, 327, 870, 1010 saoithiil skillful, learned, cultured, wise
Line: 213 saolta worldly, earthly, mundane, temporal; (intensifying) utter: scanradh s.: utter terror Line: 55 saonta nave, gullible, innocent Line: 433 saoth galar, m-dh Line: 475 sr superior, excellent; 870: sr-fhuil: gentle blood (Dinneen); noble blood ( Foghl) Line: 870 sstacht satisfaction Line: 678 scath shelter Line: 900 scfar fearful, timed; shady, shadowy; comely Line: 239 scineach in skeins or locks (of hair) Line: 231 scaitheamh space of time, while, spell Line: 120 scla basin, bowl, cup Lines: 742, gpl. 285 scalladh scald, scalding sensation Line: 843 scaoileadh
act of doing away with ( Foghl) Line: 120 scaoileann to send Lines: 207, 315, 514, 541, 912 scaoileann (imp.) to send Lines: 631, 633 scaoilte free, unwed Line: 473 sceimhle sally, an onset or skirmish; de s.: go hobann Line: 1017 sceinnteach apt to slip or escape; flighty, skittish; one easily frightened; s. scfar: a timid, flighty person (Dinneen) Line: 269 sceith spew, vomit, ooze Line: 842 scith act of spreading (as in a rumour) Line: 444 scinn to start, spring, burst forth Line: 842 sciirse scourge Line: 1009 scladh scalding, torment, torture; barr gach sclta: extreme torture (Dinneen) Line: 1005 sclta tormented Line: 533 scoth, gs.: ~a
flower, blossom; pick, choice Line: 246 scread to scream Lines: 313, 583 scroig long thin neck Line: 652 scuabadh act of sweeping Line: 297 seacht faoi thr bliain is fiche daois Line: 872 sad valuable object, jewel Line: 634 sealad turn, while, space of time Lines: 478, 982 seandach a spent old man Lines: 198, 615 seang slender, as a maiden Line: 465 searc love Line: 336 seargach a shrivelled-up person, a consumptive Line: 615 searrach a youngling, a foal, a colt, a child; pl. fig. offspring Lines: 103, 779 searradh stretching of limbs
Line: 714 seasmhach established, fixed, durable, steadfast; 131: permanent; 141, 213, 751: solid, well-set Lines: 131, 141, 213, 751 sideadh act of blowing, breathing fast; ag s. soilse: speaking brilliantly (Dinneen) Line: 861 seifteoir provider, a resourceful person, a makeshift, a frail person; an s. caol: the sly contriver (Dinneen) Line: 867 sl consider, think Line: 269 silen dripping Line: 410 silte dripped, distilled, poured; unhandy, ineffective, exhausted, spent; d mbeinnse s. mar thuilleadh de mo chomharsana: were I inefficient like others of my neighbours (Dinneen) Line: 247 sogach streaky, striped Line: 264 siolbhach seed, progeny Line: 634 siolla 45, a glance; 558, a puff; 903, a syllable Lines: 45, 558, 903 solraigh breed, propagate Line: 549 son
bad, rough weather Line: 673 siosarnach whispering, buzzing, side-chat Lines: 540, 800 sioscaithe trim, neat Line: 108 stheach peaceful, quiet, at rest Line: 485 slab mud, mire, slob Line: 52 slada, pl.: -the plunderer, pillager, looter Line: 430 slaid a term of opprobrium for a woman; a hussy Line: 243 slaod swath, layer; sraith Lines: 28, 703, 730 slaodach in swaths, in layers; flowing (of hair) Line: 153 sliasaid, pl. -sta thigh, side Line: 63 slinnenach broad-shouldered Line: 976 slogadh to gulp down, to swallow Line: 294 slugh to incite
Line: 961 smeachid live coal, ember Line: 535 smideadh wink, glance Line: 930 smste a pestle, mall, club, bat; anything big or strong; s. duirc: a boorish female (Dinneen) Line: 244 smoirt dirt, dross, refuse Line: 407 smit soot, dirt; defect, stain, gloom Lines: 165, 233, 680 snaidhmeann to knot, bind, tie Line: 499 snamhaire a creeper, crawler; one who cringes or acts slyly Lines: 375, 658, 986; pl. 780 snua countenance Lines: 165, 552 s greann, satisfaction, enjoyment Lines: 186, 491, 937; gs. 341, 773 sclach easy, comfortable Line: 667 soilseach bright, lumious, effulgent; 824, [go] s.: thoroughly, clearly Lines: 151, 490, 824 soilsigh 812, to clarify; 856, to shine
Lines: 812, 856 soineanta simh, ciin Line: 433 somachn or somach, pl. somaigh an innocent lubberly young man Lines: 323, 617, 595 sop wisp, small bundle of straw Line: 304 sotalach proud, arrogant, cock, impudent Line: 221 spaid a clod, anything inferior or useless, refuse, a barren person; dimigh im s. gan fear gan piste: I who was left for a sorry spinster (Dinneen) Line: 184 spce spike Line: 59 spor spur Line: 933 sporann spur, incite, provoke Line: 933 spreas dry twig, stick of firewood, effete worthless person Lines: 619, 668 spriongar act of playing; imirt Line: 710 sracaim to drag, pull Line: 134 sractha torn, tossed, battered
Lines: 447, 956 sraic a pull, tear Line: 702 sraite stretched at full length Line: 448 sraod swathe, lining Line: 395 sraoill a ragged, bedraggled person, slovenly person Lines: 243, 315, 918 sraoillte pulled, dragged, trailed, untidy, jagged, ragged Line: 446 sreangaire a tall, weak, ungainly person Line: 241 sruimile an awkward, untidy person Line: 433 sruth, gs.: ~a stream, current Line: 295 staca a stack Line: 297 staf staff Line: 58 stgach clumsy, halty, rickety Line: 238 stalcach stubborn, sulky; stiff, stodgy Line: 220
stangach petty, self-willed, rude Line: 220 stiir steering apparatus, rudder; a bend or inclination, attitude; a rakish attitude or appearance; starch is s. i gcl mo chaidhpe: my coif starched and set at a gallant angle (Dinneen) Line: 258 stoca a stocking Line: 292 stollaire big strong person, stolid stubborn person Lines: 109, 698, 781 stollta fochmhar Line: 560 storril strong, sturdy, vigorous, bold Line: 955 strac pull, tear Line: 702 straite stretched out at full length Line: 448 strocadh act of submitting; (?) pulling, dragging in 666 Lines: 125, 666, 962 strompa stiff, rigid thing; stiff-jointed person Line: 978 stuacach boorish, sulky, ill-tempered Lines: 220, 955 stuaim level-headedness, self-control; good sense, prudence; ingenuity, skill
Line: 273 stuaire a beauty, bean lainn Lines: 242, 685 stuama possessing high mental qualities, ingenious, modest, discreet, demure, temperate, dignified Line: 213 s juice, 410, maybe the word should be sgha: soot; 869: product; s. na tire: the product of vileness (Dinneen) Lines: 410, 869 suairceas cheerfulness, gaiety, mirth Lines: 188, 679 suairtle slattern Lines: 219, 241 suaiteach easily tired, exhausting Line: 221 suaitheadh act of tiring, troubling, shaking Lines: 190, 475, 565, 771 suarach paltry, pertty, mean, contemptible, miserable, abject Line: 358 subhachas joy Lines: 710, 845, 879 siche soot; siche silein: dripping soot Line: 410 suim 483: substance, worth; 501: total, reckoning; 586: (small) amount; 760: number Lines: 483, 501, 586, 760
suochan act of setting, establishing, proving Line: 965 siste a flail Line: 299 site dried up, sapless Line: 198 sult enjoyment, satisfaction Line: 893 ssa blanket, covering, rug Line: 409
T tabhartha go t.: go suaite, go lag ( Foghl) Line: 494 taca prop, support Line: 34 tachtadh to choke Line: 511 tclach falling in tresses (of hair) Line: 151 tafann bark, complaint Line: 133 tagrann plead, reason, argue, dispute
Line: 559 taibhseach showy; 74: gorgeous Lines: 74, 403, 595, 801, 987; gs. 74 taidhreamh a dream, revalation, vision Line: 38 tin herd, flock; large gathering of people, crowd, multitude Lines: 254, 371 tir contempt, disgrace, insult, wickedness Lines: 869, 878 tairg to offer, proffer, tender Line: 117 tairne nail; t. tiarpa: penis Lines: 878, 885 taitheacach forceful, sutstantial, vigorous, sturdy Lines: 142, 573 taithign great fig-wort Line: 342 tl flow (of milk), yield, act of flowing; fig. yield, grant, bestowal; issue Lines: 160, 330, 837, 869, 960 tmh sluggish, weak, feeble; tmhchrith: shaking (as loose flesh) Lines: 768, 941 tamhanda stiff, unwieldy Lines: 198, 573, 737 tmhghail sluggishness, idleness, laziness, indifference; i dt. chodalta: in a torpid sleep
Line: 782 tarraingthe drawn, designed, traced, delineated, finished, completed; tidy Line: 234 tasc task Line: 620 tsc story Line: 449 tathach vigor, weight Line: 483 tathagach vigorous, sturdy Lines: 142, 573 tagar substance, stoutness, bulk Line: 272 teaghlach household, family, domestic establishment, a house, a mansion Lines: 74, 140, 480, 557 tamh to warm, warmth, passion Lines: 531, 676 teann firm, secure, strong, solid; as subst.: the strong Lines: 124, 605, 873 teannaim to hold, embrace Line: 465 teannta strait, difficulty, predicament, foothold, grip; i dt.: along with, in addition, beside Lines: 33, 610, 874 tiarpa hump, posterior, buttocks
Lines: 878, 1008 tionscal industry; 883: act of devising Lines: 219, 883 tos household, husbandry Lines: 734, 898, 951 tlith 124, gentle; 230: mild; 853, 940: tame Lines: 124, 230, 853, 940 tocht emotional catch, deep emotion, fit of anger Line: 158 togha drochduine a really bad person Line: 393 toice pert girl, hussy, wench Lines: 245, 364, 371, 835 toill na tuairte ainm luibhe igin, de rir dealraimh ( Foghl); plant used as a love charm (Dinneen) Line: 342 toircheas pregnancy; offspring Line: 109 tirse torch Line: 139 toirt size, bulk Lines: 613, 766 tolgach strong, violent, buffeting Line: 47 toll posterior, buttocks
Lines: 239, 894, pl. 768 tonnach wavy, billowy Line: 656 tonndacht lethargy, slowness Line: 694 tor bush, shrub, clump, tuft; t. cabiste: a head of cabbage Line: 304 toradh, pl.: tortha result; produce, fruit Lines: 292, 894 trmach increasing, gathering, swelling, increase; t. falsa: a female with a false pregnancy Lines: 110, 894 trramh a wake or funeral Line: 252 trigh, pp. -ite to ebb; to abate, subside, recede, decline; trite: lag, faon Lines: 99, 209 traochadh subjugation, weariness, exhaustion; sr Lines: 31, 158 traochta wearied, exhausted, defeated Line: 208 trth 294, canonical hour; 745, 853, i dt.: in good time Lines: 294, 745, 853 treighid pang, stitch, tribulation; mo th.: woe, alas Lines: 250, 355, 761 triall to journey, travel; 940: having recourse to, testing
Lines: 64, 132, 940 trilseach tressed, braided, plaited; glittering, bright Line: 487 trinse a trench Line: 33 troscadh act of fasting Line: 293 trua pity, sympathy, compassion; as subs. coll.: the poor, the weak Lines: 68, 109, 791, 873, 1008 truaire wretch, beggar, miserable/pitiable person Line: 386 truamhileach clement, pathetic, plaintive Line: 585 tuairt thud, crash; de thuairt: with a thud Line: 653 tuama a tomb Line: 874 tuargain pound, batter, crush, thump, hammer, beating out Line: 44 tuile flood (of tears) Line: 160 tuill earn, deserve Lines: 420, 964, 1011 tuilleadh more, others; 247: some; 748: t. is: more besides Lines: 102, 247, 329, 346, 539, 748
tuilte flooded, full Line: 794 tum to thatch(?), cover(?) Line: 393 tirling descend, alight; thirling Mac an tseachtain roimhe-sin: gur seachtain tar is na Nollag Line: 1020 tuirlingt descent, landing Line: 415 tuirne spinning wheel Line: 406 tuisleach stumbling, faltering, unsteady Line: 941 tum dip, steep, immerse, plunge, dive Line: 295 turraing rush, dash, attack, onslaught; 283, 805: an onset; 566: a headlong fall Lines: 283, 565, 805
U uabhar pride, arrogance Line: 101 uallach wailing, yelling, howling Line: 271 im
harness Lines: 853, 945 ire freshness, newness; uaisle, folline Line: 769 uireasach lacking, wanting Line: 979 nfairt rolling, tossing about Line: 718 urchall spancel Line: 912 urchar cast, shot, du. neimhe: like a bolt from the blue Line: 841 urla lock of hair, forelock, fringe, any long hair Line: 231 urraim, gs.: ~e respect; meas Lines: 651, 918, 986 th breast Line: 880
1998: J. Noel Fahey

le/by
Brian Merriman
Bibliography
Text
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Cirt an Mheadhon Oidhche, Bryan Merrymna cct, Riserd Foghl, .i. Fiachra ilgeach, do chuir in eagar, Hodges, Figgis & Co. Ltd., Dublin, 1912., 185p. Note: Includes valuable introduction to the poem by Piaras Basla; a biography of Merriman, a glossary and a discussion of sources by Foghludha. Cuirt an mheadhon oidhche le Brian Merriman, Risteard O Foghludha do chuir in eagar, Dublin, Hodges, Figgis, 1949, 48p. The midnight court = Cuirt an mheadhoin oidhche by Brian Mac Giolla Meidhre, Dublin, Celtic Press, 1909, 39p., Censored version (!)
Text & Translation Text and English Translation:

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Cuirt an mhean-oiche by Brian Merriman, Text and translation by Patrick C. Power, Cork, Mercier, 1986, 2nd ed, 96p., ISBN 1853422443. Note: text in Irish, parallel translation in English. Cuirt an mheon-oiche le Brian Merriman, Liam P. O Murchu a chuir in eagar, Baile Atha Cliath, An Clochomhar, 1982, 117p. Note: According to the The Oxford Companion to Irish LiteratureThe definitive text, together with Woulfs translation. The Woulfe in question is Denis Woulfe (Donnchadh Ulf), another Clareman, who, in the 1820s, was the first to translate the work.
http://www.showhouse.com/bibliography.html (1 of 4)19/06/2011 00:50
Text and German Translation:

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"Brian Merrimans Cirt an mheadhin oidhche," Text and German translation (Der mitternchtige Gerichtshof) by Ludw. Chr. Stern, Zeitschrift fr Celtische Philologie, V. Band, herausgegeben von Kuno Meyer und L. Chr. Stern, Halle a.S., M. Niemeyer, 1905, 193-415. Note: Includes extensive introduction, notes on variants, West Munster speech patterns, modern Irish meters, and an exhaustive glossarybut all are in German. "The first adequate edition of the Cuirt," Piaras Basla.
Translation English:
q
The midnight court and The adventures of a luckless fellow, Translated from the Gaelic by Percy Arland Ussher with a pref. by W. B. Yeats & woodcuts by Frank W. Peers. Published: [Folcroft, Pa.] Folcroft Library Editions, 1974, 79 p. illus. 23 cm., ISBN: 0841488525, Reprint of the 1926 edition published by Boni and Liveright, New York. Note: This is the first verse translation of the work. The Adventures of a Luckless Fellow referred to in the title is a translation of Eachtra Ghiolla an Amarin (c. 1750), a lengthy poem by Donncha Rua Mac Conmara (1715-1810). In it, the poet describes his possibly imaginary emigration to Newfoundland. In a bout of seasickness, the goddess Aoibheall of Liath Craig, who plays a central role in the Cirt, appears to the poet and takes him to Acheron. The midnight court by Bryan Merriman, Newly translated into English by David Marcus, with cuts by Michael Biggs, Dublin, Dolmen Press, 1967, 43p. The midnight court by Brian Merriman, a new translation by Cosslett O Cuinn with illustrations by John Verling, The Mercier
Press, Dublin & Cork, 1982, 87p., ISBN 0853426570, 0853426589.

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Frank O'Connor (as far as I know, the following are different editions of O'Connor's 1945 translation):
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The midnight court by Brian Merriman, Translated by Frank O'Connor illustrated by Brian Bourke, Dublin, O'Brien Press, 1989, 72p. ISBN 0862781892 The Midnight Court: A Rhythmical Bacchanalia from the Irish of Bryan Merryman translated by Frank O'Connor, Haskell House Publishers, Ltd., New York, 1974, 48p., includes eight-page introduction by Frank O'Connor The Midnight Court, translated by Frank O'Connor, M. Fridberg, London, 1947
The Midnight Verdict by Seamus Heaney, Dublin, Gallery Press, 1993, 42p., ISBN 1852351306. Note: Limited ed. of 1,000 copies, 75 of which are numbered and signed by the author.
Gidhlig (Scottish Gaelic):

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Cirt a Mheadhain-oidhche le Uilleam Neill, Gairm, aireamhan 130 agus 131, Glaschu, 1985. Nota: Gairman ritheachan Gidhlig a dh fhoillsicheas sgeulachdan goirid, brdachd, altan mu chuspairean an latha andiugh, sgrdaidhean, orain etc. Co-fhreagairt: Ruaraidh MacThmais, 29 Srid Bhatairliu, Glaschu G2 6BZ Alba Tel: 0141-221-1971. (29 Waterloo Street Glasgow, G2 6BZ)
Literary Criticism
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Merrimans Secret: An Interpretation, Piaras Basla, in Cuirt an mheadhon oidhche, Riseard O Foghludha do chuir in eagar, Dublin, Hodges Figgis, 1912.
Brian Merriman, Chapter IX of The Hidden Ireland: A Study of Gaelic Munster in the Eighteenth Century Daniel Corkery, Gill & Son, Dublin & Melbourne, 1924. Cirt an Mhen Oche, Sen Tuama, Studia Hibernica, 4 (1964) 7-27. Brian Merriman and his Court, Sen Tuama, Irish University Review, II, 1981, pp. 149-164. The Vision of Liberation in Cirt an Mhen-Oche, Gearid Crualaoich, Folia Gadelica, aist iardhaltai leis a bronnadh ar R.A. Breathnach, M.A., M.R.I.A., i ndeireadh a tharma mar Ollamh le Teanga agus Litrocht na Gaeilge i gColiste Ollscoile Chorca arna gcur in eagar ag Padraig de Brn, Sen Coilein, Pdraig Riain, Cork University Press, Cork, 1983. Orpheus in Ireland: On Brian Merrimans The Midnight Court, Seamus Heaney, The Redress of Poetry, Farrar, Straus and Girouz, New York, 1995.
Anthologized
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The Midnight Court, Brian Merriman, translated by Arland Ussher, in 1000 Years of Irish Poetry, Kathleen Hoagland ed., The Universal Library, Grosset & Dunlap, New York, 1962. Cirt an Mhen Oche, in An Duanaire: An Irish Anthology1600-1900: Poems of the Dispossessed, Presented by Sen Tuama with translations into English verse by Thomas Kinsella, The University of Philadelphia Press, Philadelphia, 1981. 372 lines of text and translation.
1998: J. Noel Fahey Fill ar ais ar Chlr Chinn na Cirte/ Return to the Midnight Court Main Page

Cuirt An Mhean Oiche - by Brian Merriman (1780) : A Translation by Noel Fahy 1998

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Cirt an Mhen Oche--Gluais

Cuirt an Mhen OcheThe Midnight Court

The Life of Brian

http://www.showhouse.com/merriman.html (1 of 5)19/06/2011 00:36

Cirt an Mhen Oche--Gluais

a very wretched cabin; a waste barn; a barn.

Cirt an Mhen Oche--Gluais

Cirt an Mhen Oche--Gluais

Cirt an Mhen Oche--Gluais

Fill ar Chlr Chinn na Cirte

Return to the Midnight Court Main Page

http://www.showhouse.com/merriman.html (5 of 5)19/06/2011 00:36

Cirt an Mhen Oche--Introduction

Cuirt an Mhen OcheThe Midnight Court

The Midnight Court

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Cirt an Mhen Oche--Introduction

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Cirt an Mhen Oche--Introduction

I gceannas na dtr rochta*, is d gcosnamh go buan.

To wear the triple crown** forever and a day

Cirt an Mhen Oche--Introduction

Cirt an Mhen Oche--Introduction

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Cirt an Mhen Oche--Introduction

Fill ar Chlr Chinn na Cirte

Return to the Midnight Court Main Page

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Cirt an Mhen Oche--Gluais

Cuirt an Mhen OcheThe Midnight Court

The Current Version of the Midnight Court

Cirt an Mhen Oche--Gluais

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Cirt an Mhen Oche--Gluais

In the current version, this becomes:

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Cirt an Mhen Oche--Gluais

754 755 756

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Cirt an Mhen Oche--Gluais

Thats it. Enjoy!

Cirt an Mhen Oche--Gluais

Fill ar Chlr Chinn na Cirte

Return to the Midnight Court Main Page

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Cirt an Mhen Oche--An Brollach

Cuirt an Mhen OcheThe Midnight Court

Cuid a hAon: An Brollach

Part One: The Prologue

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Cirt an Mhen Oche--An Brollach

Cirt an Mhen Oche--An Brollach

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