Irish Language Blog

We’re up to day five, usually sung as “five gold rings,” with the word “gold” stretched into two syllables (go-old) to fit the song’s meter.   Some people sing “golden,” which will slightly change our translation into Irish.  Of special interest, though, at least don aistritheoir seo, is the theory that we’re not really talking about fáinní at all here, but piasúin, or perhaps lasracha coille. 

We may as well cover all bases, and translate all the possibilities.  Why not?  All the more practice with séimhiú agus lenár seanchara, an tuiseal ginideach!

cúig fháinne óir, five gold rings (lit. of “ór,”gold, using an tuiseal ginideach).  This is the most typical translation. 

cúig fháinne órga, five golden rings.  This phrase uses the adjective “golden,” which ends in a vowel, so joins adjectives like “fada” and “uaine” in not having a plural ending.  Remember, even though the noun, “fháinne” is singular, we use the plural adjective to modify it, after cardinal numbers. 

I’ve also seen “cúig fháinne bhuí” (lit. five yellow rings, understood to be gold).  I’d say this is a little more poetic, since “buí” mostly means “yellow.”  “Buí” can be understood as “of gold,” at least figuratively, in certain phrases, usually literary, like “Lá buí Bealtaine”(a golden May Day). 

But if we follow the bird theory, we won’t be dealing with any sort of fáinní.  Here are some possibilities:

cúig phiasún mhuinceacha, five ring-necked pheasants (yes, that’s the theory – since the song has so many birds, this line is really about, well, more birds)

piasún, pheasant; here it’s lenited (phiasún), because it’s being counted, but not plural (because it’s following a number, according to the standard rule for counting things in Irish: keep ‘em singular).  The plural form would be “piasúin,” which could also be lenited, as “phiasúin.”

“Muinceach” is used to describe most ring-necked birds in Irish (not that that’s any huge number, at least not that I’ve come across).  It’s based on the word “muince,” meaning a necklace or metal collar (like a torque).  It can also be combined with the word for feather, cleite, as in “muince chleití, to mean a “feather-boa.”: Why did I mention that?  Just in case you have to compliment Miss Piggy on her outfit in Irish.   From there, we could go on to discuss “buachrapairí” and why English uses the idea of a boa-constrictor to describe this lady’s accessory, but Irish bypasses the snake imagery and simply calls it a “feather necklace.”  Ach sin ábhar blag eile. 

As if pheasants weren’t enough to deal with, this stanza has also been interpreted as being about goldfinches.  That would be “lasracha coille” in Irish, which literally means “flames of (the) forest.”

“Lasracha coille” is plural, so what do you do if you’re counting them?  Revert to the singular form, lasair choille, which also means adding lenition to the word “coille,” since it’s functioning as an adjective.  “Lasair” (flame) is feminine, so adjectives modifying it are lenited (as in “lasair bheag,” “lasair mhór,” “lasair dhóchais,” etc.).  Remember that that lenition rule only applies to feminine singular nouns, not to feminine plural ones, so, to recap: lasair choille, but lasracha coille. 

cúig lasair choille, five goldfinches

Hopefully this is supposed to be the Old World goldfinch, not the New World one, since that would add five more syllables to the equation and be much less singable:

cúig lasair choille Mheiriceánacha, five American goldfinches

There’s at least one other way to say “goldfinch” in Irish, so there’s one more choice:

cúig bhuíán óir, from buíán óir, goldfinch, (lit. golden yellow-one).  “Buíán” on its own means “yellowhammer” or “yellow bunting;” adding the “óir” part changes the term to refer to a different bird.

Muna luíonn aon bhuille ort (if you’re a glutton for punishment), here’s one more possibility:

cúig bhuíóg an chinn óir, five goldfinches (lit. five yellow-ones of the golden head, from “ceann óir”)

For both “buíán” and “buíóg,” in my literal translations, I’ve just used “yellow-one,” since that’s about as close as one can get in English.  Both “-án” and “-óg” are typical suffixes in Irish, often making something tangible out of something abstract, sometimes including a diminutive aspect.  Other examples of these suffixes are “claonán” (an inclined plane, from “claon,” a slope), “glasóg” (a wagtail, yet another bird, from “glas,” green) and “fadóg” (an elongated thing, from “fada,” long).

Bhuel, sin véarsa a cúig, agus fada go leor do bhlag amháin.  An iomarca féidearthachtaí, b’fhéidir, ach cén dochar?  Tá siad go léir suimiúil, sílim.  Next verse, next time.

Two birds down, done in an earlier blog, and deich mbronntanas fágtha (idir éin agus dhaoine).  This blog will deal with the “French” hens (3) and the “colly” birds (4).  And how to use adjectives with nouns that are being counted.  So buckle up for more lenition!

Véarsa a Trí: “Three French Hens”

There’s a lot of dispute about what exactly (note: I didn’t yield to the temptation and say “eggzactly”) a French hen is.  Among the suggestions I see on English-language websites are the following actual breeds of hens from France: Faverolles, La Fleche, Crevecoeurs, Marans, and Houdans.  Tricky thing from my viewpoint, though, is that in Irish, there are two extremely similar terms “cearc fhrancach” and “cearc Fhrancach,” one with a lower-case adjective and one with an upper-case adjective.  “Cearc fhrancach” (French hen) is understood to refer to a turkey-hen, which is actually a guinea-hen (not a turkey as known in America), and which is not specifically French in origin. Guinea-hens are also known in Irish as “cearca guine” but it’s not uncommon to have two (or more) names for the same thing (like “pismire” and “emmet” for “ant” in English).  “Cearc Fhrancach” would normally be understood as a hen from France, either literally or originally (in breed).    

“Cearc,” as you probably deduced, is the Irish for “hen” and it is, quite logically, a feminine noun.  So adjectives following it are lenited (cearc bheag, a little hen, “cearc mhór, a big hen, etc.), as they would be with comparable nouns (muc bheag, a little pig; bó mhór, a big cow).    

In Irish, the adjective “French” inherently has the two forms, as stated above, whether you’re talking about hens or other topics.  This is even before you start making adjustments for gender (masculine, feminine), number (singular, plural), grammatical case (nominative, genitive), or position in sentence (predicate, attributive).  When the word for “French” is capitalized, “Francach,” it usually refers to something that is actually French, or was originally French (like a “fuinneog Fhrancach,” French window).  When it’s lower case, it typically refers to something that is large for its type or “foreign” or “exotic.”  The latter two, of course, are a matter of perspective, since one person’s “foreign/exotic” is another person’s “native,” but for practical purposes here we’ll just say not particularly representative of Ireland, or at least of Irish-speaking Ireland.       

So here’s the dilemma.  If we say “cearc fhrancach” in Irish, we’re not really referring to any of the breeds above (Faverolles, etc.).  We’re referring to turkey-hens (aka guinea hens).  So quite a few people have already been singing this song in the various translations that exist, with the phrase in lower case (trí chearc fhrancacha).  They’re actually singing about guinea-hens, as far as I can tell.  I’ll leave it at that and let the éaneolaithe amongst our readers sort it out further.  That is, if there’s aon éaneolaí amongst you!  If so, I’d love to hear the viewpoint of a professional ornithologist.  Maybe there’s an even more specialized term for the field, a gallinologist (hen specialist) perhaps?  Or maybe a “cogarnach cearc” (hen whisperer), who could give us dearcadh na gcearc (the hens’ viewpoint) on what this song is really about. 

What I can do, though, is tell you how to count the French hens, whatever they are, and what to do with the adjective, whatever it means.  I’m going to assume that these are hens from France and use the upper-case “Francach.”:

cearc Fhrancach amháin, one French hen, straightforward enough once one has mastered the bunuimhreacha in Irish.  Note that the adjective “Francach” is lenited here (“F” changing to “Fh”) because it is modifying a feminine noun.  This “Fh” is completely silent, so the first syllable sounds like “rank.”

To say “three French hens,” we have lenition of the letter “c,” so it becomes “ch.” This “ch” is “caol” (slender), pronounced like the “h” in “hew” or “Hugh.”  That’s in contrast to the Irish “broad ch” as in “loch,” which is also like the German “Buch” or “Ach-du-lieber.” The “broad ch” is the one that is often described as “guttural” or “throaty.”

Let’s actually start with “two,” since that’s how examples of counting are usually sequenced:

dhá chearc Fhrancacha, two French hens (lit. “two hen French”).  We have lenition of the “c” after the number two: dhá chearc.  We also have lenition of the “F,” not because “cearc” is feminine but because the adjective “French” here modifies a noun that is being counted with a “bunuimhir” (basically, a regular cardinal number).  Note the very important point that when counting things in Irish, they almost always stay singular, hence “hen” not “hens” (couldn’t resist using “hence” there though I agree it’s a bit formal these days!).     

If we had the male of the species (whatever the species is!), we’d still have “Fhrancacha”:

dhá choileach Fhrancacha.  Strange, perhaps, but true.  Here, being counted trumps gender. 

The song specifies three French hens, so let’s do that phrase now.  The same rule applies:

trí chearc Fhrancacha, or for the male, trí choileach Fhrancacha

If we were to have seven hens, we’d have a slightly different scenario, with urú (eclipsis):

seacht gcearc Fhrancacha, but that’s really ábhar blag eile. 

A final point about this phrase: although the noun, c(h)earc, appears singular, the adjective modifying it takes a plural ending.  To show it’s plural, we simply add the letter “-a” to the end of the word (Francach becomes Francacha; lenited Fhrancach becomes Fhrancacha).  This is distinctly different from how you would pluralize “Francach” when it means “a Frenchman,” but that, a chairde, is ábhar blag eile. 

So, in summary, if we sing about “cearca Francacha” we’re singing about hens that are from France, by birth (hatching, really) or heritage.  If we sing about “cearca francacha,” we’re singing about guinea- or turkey-hens, which aren’t originally French.  

Why did I stop leniting the adjective “Francach/francach” in the phrases above?  Because the bunuimhir is no longer involved AND because “cearca” is plural, which shifts the rules around.   If I referred to a single French hen, we’d be back to lenition (cearc Fhrancach) and if I were referring to a single guinea- or turkey-hen, we’d also be back to lenition (cearc fhrancach).   

To summarize the summary, to make the full phrase “three French hens,” here are the key points:

• keep the noun (hen) singular
• lenite after the number three
• lenite the adjective, regardless of the noun’s gender, since the noun is being counted
• make the adjective plural if a plural ending is available (some adjectives, like “fada” or “uaine” don’t have a plural form, so there’s nothing to add) 

Of course, in the title of this blog, capitalization doesn’t tell us that we’re specifically talking about hens from France as opposed to guinea- or turkey-hens because all the major words in a title would be capitalized anyway.  So there’s some inherent ambiguity.  Thank goodness the song isn’t actually named after the French hens or we’d be perpetually confused, looking at lists of song titles and dealing with other hotbeds of capitalization (speaking orthographically, not as regards finance).  As if we’re not confused enough already!

Véarsa a Ceathair: “Four Colly Birds”

The fourth verse of the song is a little more straightforward since we don’t have the issue of geographic origin.  This verse has been widely interpreted as “four calling birds,” but apparently the original is “four colly birds,” which would be birds that look sooty or “coaly,” that is to say, blackbirds.  This refers to the European blackbird, known for its singing, (as celebrated by Paul McCartney, Austin Clarke and others), not “blackbird” in the American sense. 

The Irish for the common or European blackbird is “lon dubh,” with “lonta dubha” for the plural.  To specify the New World blackbird, the umbrella term is “lon dubh an domhain nua,” which is, quite literally, “blackbird of the new (nua) world (domhan, domhain).”  Since “The Twelve Days of Christmas” is an Old World song, we’ll use the Old World blackbird.   

ceithre lon dhubha, four colly birds (blackbirds)

That’s assuming these black or “colly” birds are male.  If female, the word is “céirseach,” and there’s no adjective involved.  Also, the word “lon” itself has disappeared, completely replaced by the name for the female of the species. 

This example uses the two-part word for “blackbird,” (lon dubh), not the single-word form, which sometimes appears (londubh).  The latter would simply give us “ceithre londubh,” with no lenition and no plural ending.  But “ceithre londubh” doesn’t fit the meter of the song very well.  The issues of “black bird” vs. “blackbird,” as they pertain to English, don’t really apply to Irish, perhaps in part because “lon” doesn’t mean “bird” as such.  So “lon dubh” means the same as “londubh,” whereas in English, “black bird” doesn’t mean the same as “blackbird.”   

Well, that was a bit eggshausting (couldn’t resist!), but at least we’re now four gifts down, eight to go.  Gold rings coming up, but maybe not quite in the expected manner..

Tuigim gur chuir Pamela ceist ar an ngrúpa faoin sloinne “Murphy” agus gur scríobh Tiomóid freagra di.  Go raibh maith agat, a Thiomóid, as ceist Pamela a fhreagairt.  Tá an ceart agat, a Pamela, gurb é “Ó Murchadha” an litriú i nGaeilge, ach sin an seanlitriú.  Úsáideann roinnt daoine an litriú sin inniu, ach úsáideann daoine eile an litriú nua, “Ó Murchú.”

Maidir leis an bhfuaimniú, mar atá soiléir ó nóta Thiomóid, tá an “-dha” ag deireadh an fhocail “Murchadha” ciúin.  Is é sin a rá, níl sé cosúil leis an “dh” leathan i bhfocal mar “dhá” nó “a Dhónail.”  Níl mé ag caint anseo faoin “dh” leathan i nGaeilge thraidisiúnta Uladh, mar sin scéal eile ar fad, “dhá shú” and all that. 

Agus níl an “-dha” san fhocal “Murchadha” cosúil leis an “dh” san fhocal “dhéag,” mar shampla, mar san fhocal “dhéag,” tá an “dh” caol, cosúil le “y” i mBéarla.  

Shíl mé go gcuirfinn cúpla pointe le freagra Thiomóid. 

Ní Mhurchú, lit. daughter of Murchú, with the “Mh” sounding like “w” or “v,” depending on canúint (dialect).  Used for unmarried women and also by women who choose not to change their name upon marriage, a Gaeltacht tradition which is surprisingly similar to the choice many women outside the Gaeltacht have started making in recent years. 

Uí Mhurchú, wife of Murchú, very literally, simply “of Murchú”

Bean Uí Mhurchú, a fuller-fledged form of saying “wife of Murchú,” including the word “bean” which means “woman” or “wife.”

A couple points for really new newcomers: the “bean” just referred to sounds like the “ban” of “banshee” (which is, in fact, “bean sí”).  Also, there’s not really any “gender thing” going on with the word for “wife” being the same as the word for “woman,” although it often strikes people that way.  It’s true for men also, with “fear” meaning both “man” and “husband.”  Since “fear” also happens to look like an English word, I’ll just note here, that the vowel sound is more like American English “bat” or “family” or “Faraday,” not like “seer” or “ear.”  There is a way to specify “woman-spouse” and “man-spouse,” using “céile,” but that’s a subject for blag eile.  .  

And, ar son foghlaimeoirí nua, seo bunús (gist) na nótaí thíos:

Thank you, Timothy, for answering Pamela’s question.  As you indicated, the name is often spelled “Ó Murchú” these days, since that’s how it sounds. 

The spelling doesn’t indicate the middle syllable, the “uh” sound in the middle, but that’s a common enough phenomenon in Irish, with other words like “orm,” “gorm,” and “feilm” having the extra syllable as well.   So “Murchú” is a three-syllable word.  I wanted to add that the name changes slightly for women, with the forms you see above.

For anyone chomping (or champing) at the bit, for the rest of Dhá Lá Dhéag na Nollag, tá sé ag teacht.  But I wanted to finish up ceist Pamela before too much more time elapsed.