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Fáilte na Madraí Roimh Lennox (The Dogs’ Welcome to Lennox): Aistriúchán go Béarla (i gcodanna, cuid 1/3) Posted by on Jul 18, 2012 in Irish Language

(le Róislín)

As we come to the end of ár dtuairisciú of saga brónach Lennox, an madra ó Bhéal Feirste, this blog will include a couple of installments with a side-by-side English translation of the dogs’ dialogue.  The full original is at https://blogs.transparent.com/irish/failte-na-madrai-roimh-lennox-the-dogs-welcome-to-lennox/.

Even though the comhrá itself is, ar ndóigh, imaginary, I’ve tried to make the language as natural as possible, with phrases that might also be useful i saol na ndaoine.  As I work on this, I’m also listening ar líne to Beautiful Joe (1893), a novel written in “first canine” (just as Black Beauty was written in “first equine”).  Like Black Beauty, it’s a heartbreaker in parts, but unlike Lennox bocht, the story has a reasonably happy ending.  Though permanently mutilated, Beautiful Joe does go to a happy home where is loved by both human and animal companions.  Mholfainn é, as long as you can get past codanna beaga nach bhfuil de réir na dtuairimí ‘cearta’ poiblí, and, like many books of its day, said codanna are very much “i d’aghaidh.”  Ba Cheanadach í an t-údar, Margaret Marshall Saunders (1861-1947), a scríobh an leabhar do chomórtas an American Humane Education Society (bunaíodh i 1889).  Tuilleadh eolais faoin leabhar ag http://www.beautifuljoe.org/

This translation is what I’d call “medium literal.”  It is meant to be readable on its own but stays as close as possible to the original.  This installment takes us up to iontráil Maida.  I’ve included the fonóta about Gelert in today’s blog, since Gelert mainly appears in this segment.  I hope you find this useful.  SGF – Róislín

Gaeilge Béarla
 1)  Bran, Sceolaing  (na madraí a bhí ag Fionn Mac Cumhail, the legendary warrior / giant / Fenian eponym) :   Fáilte romhat, a Lennox.   Ní maith linn an trioblóid a bhí ort — an chillín, an mhín sáibh, na maoir, an droch-chuma a bhí ar do chraiceann, ach tá tú saor ó na rudaí sin anois.  Bí linn, ag rith, agus ag léimnigh, an féar faoi do chosa in ionad na suiminte.An ghrian agus an ghaoth, dea-bholaithe (agus drochbholaithe  suimiúla chomh maith) agus na leoithní is na feoithní  a bhíodh ag séideadh in Éirinn in aimsir na bhFiann, nuair a bhí na coillte fairsing agus na fianna agus na heilití agus na heilceanna flúirseach.  Ionanáiligh an t-aer úr agus bí linn!  1) Bran & Sceolaing (the dogs of Fionn Mac Cumhail, the legendary warrior/giant/Fenian eponym): Welcome, Lennox. We’re sorry about the trouble you’ve been through–the cell, the sawdust, the wardens, the bad appearance of your skin but you’re free from all that now. Join us, running, jumping, the grass under your feet instead of cement. The sun and the wind, good smells (and interesting bad smells also), the light breezes and breezy gusts that blew in Ireland in the time of the Fianna, when forests were abundant and the deer, the does, and the elk flourished.  Inhale the fresh air and join us!
2) Lennox: Bí libh, gan Brooke? gan mo theaghlach?  Ní féidir, ní féidir.  2) Lennox: Be with you, but without Brooke? without my family? I can’t, I can’t.
3) Bran agus Sceolaing: Ach sin rud ba mhaith leosan anois.  Tú a bheith ar do shuaimhneas, ag ligean do scíthe, le comhluadar na madraí go léir a tháinig romhat, cuid acu a d’fhulaing mar thusa, cuid acu a raibh bás suaimhneach acu, ach iad uilig saor anois.  3) Bran & Sceolaing: But that’s what they would like for you now.  For you to be at peace, resting, with the company of all the dogs that came before you, some of them that suffered like you, some that died peacefully, they’re all free now.
 4) Lennox:  Ach mo mhuintir?  Cá bhfuil siad?  Ní fhaca mé le dhá bhliain iad. ‘S iad mo chairde is fearr iad. Go díreach mar a deir daoine gur muide, na madraí, a gcairde is fearr.  4) Lennox: But my people?  Where are they. I haven’t seen them for two years. They are my best friends. Just as people say that we, us dogs, are their best friends.
 5)  Bran agus Sceolaing:  Á, a Lennox, is fada leat uait iad, cinnte, agus is fada uathu leo thú, ach bíonn   an saol mar sin.  Anois tá siadsan agus na sluaite ar  fud an domhain ag iarraidh síorshíochána a bheith agat. Tá sé deas anseo, socair, sámhach.  Agus deirtear go bhfeicfidh muid ár ndaoine arís, lá den tsaol. Nach ndeirtear sin, a Gelert?  5) Bran & Sceolaing: Ah, Lennox, we know you miss them, certainly, and they miss you, but life plays cruel tricks on us. Now they and hordes of people around the world hope you find eternal peace.  It’s nice here, peaceful, calm. And they say we’ll see our people again, some day, don’t they, Gelert?
 6) Gelert (an madra Breatnach a bhí ag Llywelyn Fawr sna Meánaoiseanna, tuilleadh eolais i nóta thíos):  Deirtear sin, agus tá mé ag tnúth le mo mháistir a  fheiceáil arís. Mhaith mé dó mo bhás.  Níor thuig sé cad a tharla.Deirtear nach ndearna sé miongháire ón am sin.  B’fhéidir go bhfeicfidh mé arís é am éigin, dóigh éigin, i   gcruth éigin, i bhfoirm éigin de ábhair.  Déanfaidh mise miongháire ina threo agus b’fhéidir go mbeidh miongháire airsean arís faoi dheireadh.  Tá a fhios agat go dtig linn miongháire a dhéanamh, nach bhfuil, a Lennox?  Ní go díreach cosúil le daoine ach inár stíl féin.  Tá a fhios agam nach raibh cúis mhiongháire agat le dhá bhliain ach anois, déan triail.  An cuimhin leat é, miongháire a bheith ort, agus a mhacasamhail ar Brooke ag an am céanna?  6) Gelert (the Welsh dog of Llywelyn Fawr in the Middle Ages, more details in the note below): They do say that, and I’m looking forward to seeing my master again. I forgave him my death.  He didn’t understand what happened. They say that he hasn’t smiled since then.  Perhaps I’ll see him again sometime, some way, in  some shape, in some form of matter.  I’ll smile in his direction and perhaps he will finally  smile again. You do know that we can smile, don’t you,  Lennox? Not exactly like people, but in our own style.  I know you haven’t had any reason to smile for two years, but now, try.  Do you remember smiling, and Brooke smiling at the same time?
 7) Lennox: Ní cuimhin liom sin, miongháire.  Cén dóigh a mbeinn ábalta triail a bhaint as muna gcuimhním air?  7) Lennox: I don’t remember that, a smile.  How can I try to do something that I don’t remember?
 8) Gelert: Bí ag smaoineamh air.  Bí ag smaoineamh ar na dea-amanna.  Ag imirt sa sneachta.  Brooke ag déanamh peataireachta ort.  Tiocfaidh an miongháire.  Caithfidh muid a ndrochghníomhartha a mhaitheamh do dhaoine.  Agus ní ar do mhuintir a bhí an locht.  Rinne siad a seacht ndícheall thú a shábháil.  Agus chuidigh na milte leo.  Ar fud an domhain.Tá cairde agat i ngach áit.  Agus ní dhéanfar dearmad ort!  B’fhéidir go sábhálfar madraí eile mar gheall ort.  8) Gelert: Think about it.  Think about the good times.  When you were playing in the snow.  When Brooke was petting you. The smile will come.  We must forgive (to) people their bad deeds. Your own people weren’t at fault.  They did their level best to save you.  And thousands helped them.  All over the world. You have friends everywhere.  And you will not be forgotten.  Perhaps other dogs will be saved because of you.
 9) Lennox (ag déanamh meangadh miongháire): Bheadh sé sin go deas.  9) Lennox (smiling faintly): That would be nice.
10) Gelert: Sin é, maith an madra, maith thú.  Nach maith é,  a Maida?  10) Gelert: That’s it, good dog, well done.  Isn’t he good, Maida?
(níos mó den aistriúchán le teacht) (translation to be continued)

An Fonóta

 Nóta faoin gcú Gelert: Madra maith dílis cróga a bhí ann a mharaigh mac tíre a tháinig isteach sa chaisleán nuair a bhí na fir amuigh ag seilg.  Note about the hound Gelert: He was a good loyal brave dog, who killed a wolf that came into the castle when the men were out hunting.
 Bhí an mac tíre ar tí naíonán a bhí ina chodladh sa chliabhán a ionsaí.  The wolf was about to attack the baby that was sleeping in the cradle.
 Throid Gelert agus an mac tíre.  Gelert and the wolf fought.
 I ndeireadh na troda, bhí fuil (ón mac tíre) ar Gelert.  At the end of the fight, Gelert was covered with blood (from the wolf).
 Nuair a tháinig Llywelyn agus na fir abhaile, ní raibh siad ábalta teacht ar an naíonán in áit ar bith ach chonaic siad an fhuil ar Gelert.  When Llywelyn and the men came home, they couldn’t find the baby anywhere but they saw the blood on Gelert.
 Bhí fearg agus díomá ar Llywelyn mar shíl sé gur mharaigh a chú féin an naíonán.  Llywelyn was angry and disappointed because he thought his own hound had killed the baby.
 Sháigh Llywelyn le claíomh é go dtí go bhfuair an cú bás.  Llywelyn stabbed the hound until he died.
 Agus arraingeacha an bháis ar Gelert, thosaigh an leanbh ag gol, mar fhreagra d’uaill Gelert.  While Gelert was in the final pangs of death, the baby started crying, as a answer to Gelert’s howls.
 Chuala Llywelyn an leanbh.  Llywelyn heard the child.
 Bhí sé faoi chorp an mhic tíre mhairbh, é slán sábháilte, a bhuí leis an gcú Gelert.  He was under the body of the dead wolf, safe and sound, thanks to the hound Gelert.
 Ach ní buíochas a fuair Gelert ach bás.  But Gelert got no thanks, just the death blow.
 Ar ndóigh, deirtear nach bhfuil ann ach finscéal (legend)  agus fiú nach “bedd” (uaigh) Gelert atá sa bhaile beag Beddgelert ar chor ar bith ach “bedd” naoimh.  Of course, it is said that this is just a legend and that it isn’t really the “bedd” (grave) of Gelert that’s in the village Beddgelert, but that the famous site is a saint’s grave.
 Ach má théann tú ann, feicfidh tú an uaigh, ag comhartha ag rá gur “bedd” Gelert atá ann.   Bhí mé féin ann.  But if you go there, you’ll see the grave, and a sign that says that it is “bedd” Gelert.  I myself was there.
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