(le Róislín)

There are three main holidays associated with mí na Bealtaine in the United States: Lá Bealtaine (1ú Bealtaine), Lá na Máithreacha (12ú Bealtaine sa bhliain 2013), agus Lá Cuimhneacháin (Luan deireanach na Bealtaine, 27ú Bealtaine sa bhliain 2013).  Of course, in every month there are also many days of special recognition that are not considered holidays as such.  These range from (and here follow my own Irish translations, since I find no other record of them i nGaeilge) Lá Náisiúnta na Múinteoirí (Dé Máirt sa chéad seachtain lán i mí na Bealtaine, 7ú Bealtaine i 2013) to Lá Náisiúnta … creid nó ná creid é … Craiceann Oráiste Criostalaithe (4ú Bealtaine).

In this blog, we’ll look briefly at the three main holidays.  As the month unfolds, perhaps we’ll take a look at cúpla ceiliúradh eile that are neamhchoitianta, like “National Orange Peel Day.”  For those interested in fuller details for each of the major holidays, there are iarbhlaganna which discuss them (liostáilte thíos).

Lá Bealtaine, Oíche Bhealtaine (1 Bealtaine)

“Bealtaine” [BAL-tin-yuh] is a fairly straightforward word in Irish, since it has no separate ending to show possession and since we rarely need to discuss it in the plural.  Probably the most significant change to note for it is that after the word “oíche” (eve, night), it becomes “Bhealtaine” [VAL-tin-yuh].

Why does “Bealtaine” become “Bhealtaine” after “oíche”?  Because in the phrase “Oíche Bhealtaine,” we’re dealing with a feminine noun (oíche).  ”Lá,” on the other hand is a masculine noun, so “Bealtaine” remains the same.  In both cases the word “Bealtaine” is functioning as an adjective, so it follows the pattern for adjectives modifying nouns.  For feminine singular nouns  that is “lenition” (softening), here with “b” becoming “bh.”  Similarly, we say “Oíche mhaith!” (Good night!) but “lá maith” (a good day).  Note that “good day,” is not typically used as a greeting in Irish.  It usually refers to weather, but could also be used by Irish-speaking Klingons (why not!) exhorting each other to fight valiantly in battle, unto death (Tliongáinis: Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam / Béarla: Today is a good day to die! / Gaeilge: “Inniu lá maith le bás a fháil,“ a fairly literal equivalent).

Lá na Máithreacha (12 Bealtaine, 2013)

We’ve recently discussed the word “máthair” as a kinship term and as a prime example of Indo-European connections, with cognates all over the map.  As for creating the Irish term for Mother’s Day, the general consensus is that it should be plural, “the day of the mothers.”  So that gives us “máithreacha” [MAW-hrzuh-khuh}.  You will also find forms of "Mother's Day" in Irish using the singular ("of the mother") though, at least a few online.  That would be "Lá na Máthar."  Note that irregular possessive form, "máthar," with the "i" dropped out.  The good news is that "father" and "brother" follow the same pattern (athair / athar; deartháir / dearthár).

Lá Cuimhneacháin (i Meiriceá; 27 Bealtaine 2013)

Once again, we have a "day of" structure, not an "(adjective) day" structure, i.e. "day of memorial," not "memorial day" as such.  "Cuimhneachán" means "memorial," "commemoration," or "remembrance."   Here the "i" is added just before the final "n" to show that the word means "of memorial."   Remember, there is no real equivalent in Irish to the English possessive "of."  Possession is generally shown by a change to the ending of a word, as in Latin or German, and sometimes there is a change to the beginning of the word.  The mionrudaí for that would be ábhar blag eile, but some quick samples are "cóta Shéamais" [KOH-tuh HAY-mish] for “coat of Séamas” and “Áras an Uachtaráin” for “mansion of the Uachtarán / President.”

“Cuimhneachán” is related to “cuimhin” (“memory,” but rarely translated literally), which is used to say you remember something, such as:

Is cuimhin liom mo chéad lá ar scoil. 

Tá brón orm ach ní cuimhin liom d’ainm. 

So that’s a “samplóir,” anyway, of a few of the “laethanta speisialta” that occur i mí na Bealtaine.  Can any of you think of some other interesting or unusual ones?  If so, please write in.  SGF, Róislín

Liosta Iarbhlaganna ar na hÁbhair Seo:

Lá Bealtaine:

http://blogs.transparent.com/irish/between-a-rock-and-a-may-day-fire-or-life-on-the-horns-of-a-dilemma-as-gaeilge/ (1 Bealtaine 2012)

http://blogs.transparent.com/irish/mayday-may-day-bealtaine/ (1 Bealtaine 2011)

http://blogs.transparent.com/irish/may-day-mayflies-mayweed/ (1 Bealtaine 2010)

http://blogs.transparent.com/irish/bealtaine-beltain-beltene-or-beltane-for-may-1st-yes-ba%E2%80%99al-tine-%E2%80%93-not/(1 Bealtaine 2009)

Lá na Máithreacha:

http://blogs.transparent.com/irish/an-mhathair-no-an-la-ce-acu-ata-sona/ (8 Bealtaine 2011)

http://blogs.transparent.com/irish/la-na-maithreacha-mother%E2%80%99s-day/ (7 Bealtaine 2010)

http://blogs.transparent.com/irish/la-na-maithreacha-vs-la-na-mathar-%E2%80%9Cday-of-the-mothers%E2%80%9D-or-%E2%80%9Cof-the-mother%E2%80%9D/ (10 Bealtaine 2009)

Lá Cuimhneacháin:

http://blogs.transparent.com/irish/la-cuimhneachain-i-meiricea/ (31 Bealtaine 2010)

Gluais: craiceann, peel; creid, believe; criostalaithe, candied, crystallized; cuimhneachán, memorial; neamhchoitianta, uncommon

 (le Róislín)

grian/gealach

Continuing the quest for cognates, let’s look at another pair of words, sun and moon, each of which typically has many similar-looking cousins throughout the Indo-European language family.  Given that the Irish word for sun is “grian” and the Irish for “moon” is “gealach,” it looks like we have a bit of a puzzle on our hands.

Typical cognates for the English word “sun” include Latin “sol,” Icelandic “sól” and Sanskrit/Hindi “surya/suraj.”  All of the sun/zon/Sonne-type words are also included in this family, since the original root (*sawel) had a variant (*sulno-).  In some languages the “-l” ending predominated, in other cases, the “-n” ending, and Russian “Солнце” (solnce) seems to straddle the fence, with both the “l” and the “n.”

For “moon,” there are two main roots found in the Indo-European family.  One is *mēnes-, which also gives us the word “month.”  From *mēnes-, we get English “moon,”  German “Mond,” Danish “månen” (maane),  and Lithuanian “mėnulis.”  The other major root for “moon” in Indo-European is *leuksnā-, which gives us Latin “luna” and Russian Луна (luna), and many words in between, such as French “lune,” Welsh “lleuad,” and Romanian “lună,” as well as various words for light (lux, luz, luce, lumière, Licht).

While it’s likely that no one will ever be able to say exactly why the Irish words “grian” and “gealach” don’t fit this pattern, we can say that they both have interesting origins and “relatives” within the Celtic and Indo-European language families.

Let’s look first at “grian” (sun).   It is related to various words for “heat,” including the Modern Irish word “gor,” whose meanings range from “incubation” or “broodiness” in hens (a bheith ar gor) to “inflammation” (gor i gcneá, pus in a wound); cf. also “gorlann” (a hatchery) and “goraí” (a hatching hen or a brooding impatient person).   Also coming from the same Indo-European root (*g^wher-) are English “warm” and “furnace,” Greek “thermos,” and Sanskrit “gharma-.”

So much for the history of the word (nutshell version, of course).  What are its basic forms and how do we use them?  Seo iad:

an ghrian, the sun (“g” becomes “gh” because “grian” is feminine — unlike most words for “sun” in languages that have grammatical gender); Tá an ghrian ag soilsiú.  The sun is shining.

gréine, of sun; na gréine, of the sun (lá gréine, a sunny day; luí na gréine, the setting of the sun)

grianta, suns.  “An bhfeiceann tú grianta Tatooine?”  Do you see the suns of Tatooine?  To say, “Tatooine has two suns,” we go back to the singular form, as is standard with counting things in Irish, “Tá dhá ghrian ag Tatooine.”

na ngrianta, of the suns.  “Tá teas na ngrianta sin an-te.”  (The heat of those suns is very hot), another one for móidíní ficsean eolaíoch.

btw, “grianta” can also mean “having been solarized,” as in photography (probably no longer relevant in this digital age, but remember, “photograph” in Irish remains “grianghraf,” lit. “sun-graph).

As for “moon,” the Irish word “gealach” is related to “geal,” bright, not very far afield at all.  “Geal” in and of itself also has cousins in other languages, although the meaning has definitely taken a twist (not at all uncommon when unraveling word histories).  “Geal” is related historically to various words for “yellow” in different Indo-European languages, including German “gelb,” Italian “giallo,” and Latin “galbinus.”  It is not at all related to the usual Irish word for “yellow,” which is “buí.”

Here are the forms for “gealach“:

an ghealach, the moon (“g” to “gh” because it’s feminine).  An bhfeiceann tú an ghealach?  Do you see the moon?

gealaí, of moon; na gealaí, of the moon; tús gealaí, first phase of the moon; solas na gealaí, the light of the moon

gealacha, moons.   Tá gealacha go leor ag Iúpatar.  Jupiter has plenty of moons.

na ngealach, of the moons.  Tá na heachtardhomhandaigh ag caint faoi chuma na ngealach (The extraterrestrials are talking about the appearance of the moons).

From these examples, we can see that a seemingly anomalous word like “grian” may not be part of the typical Indo-European pattern for “sun,” as such, but it does have “kin” within Irish (gor, et al.) and in other languages, as noted above.  Likewise, “gealach” is not part of the *mēnes- or  *leuksnā- families, but it does have “relatives,” in “geal” and more distantly, in words like “yellow,” “gelb,” and “giallo.”

But if we probe further in Irish, into the realm of less commonly used synonyms and archaic, poetic, or literary vocabulary, lo and behold, we find “sol” and “luan” in Irish.   “Sol” is virtually extinct in Modern Irish and I don’t see it listed in any of the current dictionaries, but it appears occasionally in Old Irish and through the 18th and 19th centuries.  I wouldn’t recommend using it instead of “grian,” by any means, but it is interesting to see that the *sawel-/*sulno- family does have a representative in reasonably recent Irish.  I’ve seen conflicting accounts as to whether this is connected to another basic Irish vocabulary word, “solas” (light).  It would easily appear to be the case, but some linguists say that the “so” of “solas” is a prefix, with no relation to “sol” as a root.  Ábhar blag eile, b’fhéidir.

As for “luan,” the situation is quite different.   While “luan” is not the basic word for “moon” (that remains “gealach“), it’s not that uncommon in Modern Irish, most notably in “An Luan” (Monday, i.e. “moon-day).  Today, it often means “halo” or “aureole,” and it also shows up in compound words like “luanlus” (moonwort) and “naomhluan” (lit. “saint-moon/halo”).  Just don’t mistake this “luan” for that in “luanghríscín,” which comes from a completely different “luan,” meaning “loin.”  So “luanghríscín” means “loin-chop.”

So there we have it, the basic words for “sun” and “moon” in Irish, a bit about their linguistic background, how they do or don’t fit into the Indo-European picture, and some sample phrases or sentences.   I guess I should quote Jack Horkheimer again, “Keep looking up!”   B’fhéidir go bhfeicfidh tú dhá ghrian Tatooine nó gealacha Iúpatair.   SGF, Róislín

Image courtesy of <a href=”http://www.DailyClipArt.net”>DailyClipArt.net</a>

(le Róislín)

athair, máthair, deartháir, deirfiúr

Ascaill, axilla … in the last blog* we talked about how Irish may, in fact, have many focail ghaolmhara with other languages.  The words are just not always cognates with English, at least not basic everyday  English.  Most of us are more likely to say that “ascaill” means “armpit” than to say that “ascaill” means “axilla,” so the cognate relationship is lost, for typical everyday purposes.   But still,”axilla” is an English word, as is “axillary,” and these more scientific terms do show the relationship.

Similarly, when we translate “leabhar” as “book,” which is a reasonable and accurate thing to do, we miss out on the close connection to the Romance language words for book, which include “liber” (Laidin), “libro” (Spáinnis), and “livre” (Fraincis).   English cognates include “library,” “libel” (from “libellus,” little book) and “libretto,” all for specialized purposes, but not, of course, “book” itself.

For the word “leabhar,” this relationship to the Romance languages helps explain why there still is a “-bh-” in the spelling, even though it’s not pronounced.  The “-bh-” reminds us of the word’s history, its cousins, as it were.  Catchphrases, especially those using “rím (rhyme),” like “Leabhar Power,” from http://www.leabharpower.com/ (a book-marketing initiative) remind us of how the word is pronounced today.

So, in general, recognizing cognates is a helpful way to expand vocabulary.  If we consider the word “cognate” itself, literally meaning “co-born,” it’s almost like getting to know a family by getting to know the various children in it, not just the one child who is in our particular class in school.

What happens when the spelling or pronunciation thoroughly disguises the cognate relationship?  Bhuel, we get by without that extra bit of knowledge and usually work a little harder to retain those vocabulary words.  But I’ve always found it interesting to find out that certain sets of words are in fact focail ghaolmhara (cognates), even if I’ve already been using them for years.

One set of words that is similar pretty much across the spectrum of Indo-European languages is the terms for “mother” and “father.”  And in Irish, these words are readily recognizable.  “Mother” is “máthair [MAW-hirzh]” not too far removed from “moder” (Danmhairgis) and “matar-” (Sanscrait), to push the envelope of the Indo-European package (with “māter,” “mère,” “madre,” and many related words along the way, even Tocharian “mācar” and “mācer”).  Tocáiris, by the way, is the easternmost Indo-European language,  formerly spoken in the Tarim Basin, Central Asia.  The amount of Tocharian vocabulary we know is quite limited, since the language became extinct in the 9th century AD, but we do have enough to make comparisons to a lot of core vocabulary words, like “mother,” “father,” “sister,” “brother,” “horse,” “cow,” and “name.”

How about “father” then?  Quite straightforward.  “Athair” [AH-hirzh] in Irish, with “fader” (Danmhairgis) and “pitar-” (Sanscrait) as some of its cousins.  Some of its other col ceathracha are “pater,” “père,” and “padre,” and the perhaps less familiar Tocharian “pācar” and “pācer” thrown in for good measure.  Yes, those last two are Tocharian again.  Even “Darth Vader” (“dark father”) fits the pattern, although there’s no special reason why we should expect languages from réaltraí i bhfad i bhfad uainn to be Ind-Eorpach.

What happens then when we get to “brother” and “sister”?  Here we’ll have to backtrack a little farther in the history of the language.  As explained in the last blog, “deartháir” [DJAR-harzh]  initially seems unrelated to the “broder/bhrātar-” continuum.  After all, where’s the letter “b,” which, with its counterpart “f” (frāter, frère) is one of the core letters for this word, across the Indo-European spectrum?  As mentioned in the last blog, that “b” is simply buried under the linguistic “cave-in” of various other letters that have disappeared along the way.  Irish started with “bráthair [BRAW-hirzh]” and when the religious sense of “friar, brother” came in, Irish added the prefix “dearbh-,” indicating “real” or “blood” to differentiate one’s brother by birth.  That gave us “dearbh-bhráthair” or “dearbhráthair [DJAR-uv-VRAW-hirzh], which was eventually shortened to “deartháir,” the form we have today.

Other forms of brother?  Seo iad:

an deartháir, the brother

an dearthár (note the dropped “-i-”), of the brother (this ending is also used with “of my brother,” etc., as in “An mise coiméadaí mo dheartháir?” from Geineasas 4:9)

na deartháireacha, the brothers

na ndeartháireacha, of the brothers (“An muide coiméadaithe ár ndeartháireacha?”  Cáin clónáilte?  Well, it was a good example above so why not recycle it?)

For “sister,” the same basic process has happened.  The Modern Irish is “deirfiúr” [DJER-if-yoor].  We start with “siúr,” nicely cognate with “søster” and “svasar-”.  The “sister” series has a little more variety in the initial letter than the “brother” set.  Going beyond “soror” and “soeur,” we also have “chwaer” (Breatnais), “c’hoar” (Briotáinis), “zuster” (Ollainnis), and “Schwester” (Gearmáinis), among others.  But still the core of the word is recognizable, and “siúr [shoor]” would fit nicely.  But “siúr” came to have a religious meaning and “deirbh-” (real, blood, here “slenderized, ” so the “-i-” matches the “-i-” in “siúr) was added, giving us “deirbhshiúr.”  That got shortened to “deirfiúr.”  Like “brother,” it’s a little irregular in the genitive case, as the list below shows:

an deirfiúr, the sister

na deirféar (note the vowel change), of the sister.  “My Sister’s Keeper” has already been used in English as the title for at least 4 úrscéal, 2 scannán, agus 7 n-eipeasóid teilifíse.  I’m not sure if any have been translated or dubbed into Irish, but if so, the title would be, “Coiméadaí Mo Dheirféar.”

Curiously, the possessive for “siúr” (a religious sister) is quite different — “siúrach,” as in “aibíd na siúrach sin,” that sister’s habit)

na deirfiúracha [nuh DJERzh-if-yoor-ukh-uh], the sisters

na ndeirfiúracha [nuh NyERzh-if-YOOR-ukh-uh], of the sisters, which would give us “Tairngreacht na nDeirfiúracha,” for the popular new trilogy by Michelle Zink, if it were to be translated into Irish (tairngreacht [TARzh-in-guh-rukht, prophecy)

For "sister ships" though, sorry, no "sisters" involved in Irish.  That's "comhlonga" (lit. "co-ships).

So there you have it - two readily detectable téarmaí gaoil (máthair, athair) and two that are less obvious but still a part of the Indo-European picture (deartháir, deirfiúr).

There are plenty more focail ghaolmhara out there, but it's also interesting to consider which Irish words are not cognates.  In a future blog, we'll take a closer look at the Irish words for sun and moon, and see how they differ from most of their Indo-European counterparts.  Meanwhile, to paraphrase the late astronomer Jack Horkheimer, "Keep looking up [words, that is].  SGF, Róislín

* http://blogs.transparent.com/irish/ascaill-axilla-armpit-who-says-irish-doesnt-have-many-cognates-with-english/