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Page:Irisleabhar na Gaedhilge vols 5+6.djvu/45

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41
THE GAELIC JOURNAL.

2. Ar fissid, ar fer dána
Téit lá d’iarraid éddála,
Trí cuile fúair in t-ollaṁ,
Ní ḋuaid uile hi comlongad.

3. Tinóilis lán a brasċúig mér
da ingnib donna in dreén,
Na trí ceṫri ’mon cuitig,
Da trí ferṫain fliuċbuidir.

4. Aċan! is trúag lem’ċride
bás clainde na cuirrcige,
cuirrceċ ar n-éc a dá hén-
dá buirrceċ déc ’con dreén.


Dondchad Mór sang—

1. Wren of the marsh, dear to all,
Conversing with us every hour,
A bird, and a hole through its house,
My goose, my crane, my cock.

2. Our wise man, our poet,
Went one day to seek spoil;
Three gnats the ollave found,
He did not eat them all in one feast.

3. He gathered the full of his five fingers
With his dun claws, the wren;
The thrice four around the repast,
Whence a wet, deafening shower will
come.

4. Ochone! sad to my heart is
The death of the plover’s offspring;
The plover after the death of her two
birds,
Twelve denizens has the wren.

dreén, dissyllabic.
eanaċ, a moor, marsh, O’R. and O’Don. Suppl.
inṁain cáċ. Cf. L. Br. 275a, 17: inmain cáċ isa corp so, which O’Grady, Silv. Gad. II., p. 61, translates: “Dear was he whose body this is.”
na trí ceṫri, the young ones of the wren.
ferṫain, humorously, a shower of blood. The acc (buidir, fem.) is put for the nom., as often in Middle-Irish.
cuirrceċ, cf. curcag, F. a lapwing (tringa vanellus, L.), Highl. From cuirreċ, a marsh.
buirrceċ, a burgher, denizen, inmate, from burc or borc, castle, borrowed from Low Latin, burgus.

Kuno Meyer.

A SONG FROM CORK.


AN RIDIRE BRIANACH.

Uilliam Buingeán cct.

Hurá! a Ridire ċumasaiġ Bhrianaiġ!
Hurá! a Ridire ṫrúpa na srianta!
Hurá! a leinḃ nár geineaḋ as fiaḋaile,
Aċt as ceart-lár ríġṫe ’ġníoḋ dliġṫe ⁊
riaġalta!


Mo ġráḋ-sa an leanḃ nár easguir[1]
i n-éinfeaċt,
Aċt d’ḟás seaċd dtroiġṫe go tara le
ċéile;[2]
Mac an ṁarcaiġ do ġreadaḋ na
méirliġ
Ó Léim an Chapaill go M’alla na
méaṫ-ṁart.

Hurá! a Ridire ⁊c.


Sin laċt luinge ’na ṫuille tré ṡliaḃ
ċuġainn
D’ḟíon ḃreaġ ḃorb gan doċal[3] ’n-a
ḋiaiḋ ḋúinn!
Líontar gloine agus fiċe ċum ’Liaim de!
Sláinte an Ridire ċumasaiġ Bhrianaiġ

Hurá! a Ridire ⁊c.


Ní’l fiú leanḃ ná seana-ḃean ċríonda
O Bhunraite go Mainistir Ínse
Naċ ḃfuil ag preabaḋ ċum baluiṫe
an ḟíona,
A’s é tá ċaiṫeaṁ ag maiṫiḃ na tíre!

Hurá! a Ridire ⁊c.


D’ ḟíontaiḃ dearga laċtanna a’s
cróna[4]
Píopaiḋe beaṫuisge, meadraċa beóraċ,
Bíom[5] dá mblaiseaḋ—go mblais-
eam[5] go tóin iad,
’S go dtéiḋ an ġealaċ i ḃfolaċ ’n-ár
mbrógaiḃ!

Hurá! a Ridire ⁊c.

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