{"id":7601,"date":"2016-01-28T23:10:16","date_gmt":"2016-01-28T23:10:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/?p=7601"},"modified":"2017-06-27T20:09:02","modified_gmt":"2017-06-27T20:09:02","slug":"which-celtic-language-has-5-words-for-hamster-leid-ni-hi-an-ghaeilge-i","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/which-celtic-language-has-5-words-for-hamster-leid-ni-hi-an-ghaeilge-i\/","title":{"rendered":"Which Celtic Language Has 5 Words for ‘Hamster’ (Leid: N\u00ed h\u00ed an Ghaeilge \u00ed!)?"},"content":{"rendered":"

(le R\u00f3isl\u00edn)<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"B'fh\u00e9idir<\/a>

B’fh\u00e9idir go mba ch\u00f3ir d\u00fainn “HAMSTERICULA” a thabhairt ar an hamstar seo! Ach deir an grianghrafad\u00f3ir nach bhfuil ann ach go bhfuil an hamstar ag m\u00e9anfach (yawning). N\u00ed starrfhiacla at\u00e1 ann sa phicti\u00far ach cl\u00e1rfhiacla! Ar nd\u00f3igh, mise a chuir Gaeilge ar an gcur s\u00edos. N\u00ed d\u00f3igh liom go bhfuil Gaeilge ag an ngrianghrafad\u00f3ir. (By Emmaeatsporridgelots (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons https:\/\/commons.wikimedia.org\/wiki\/File:Yawning_white_syrian_hamster.jpeg)<\/em><\/p><\/div>Bhuel<\/strong>, as the title of this blog post suggests, Irish isn’t the Celtic language that has five words for ‘hamster.’ \u00a0\u00a0Or as “an leid<\/strong>” in the title said, “N\u00ed h\u00ed an Ghaeilge \u00ed<\/strong>.”<\/p>\n

In fact, we can take care of the Irish word for ‘hamster’ quite tidily:<\/p>\n

hamstar<\/strong>, a hamster.\u00a0 Note that the one concession to Irish spelling is the change from “-ster” to “-star.”\u00a0 And why do we bother with that?\u00a0 The ever-present “vowel harmony” rules (caol le caol agus leathan le leathan<\/strong>).\u00a0\u00a0 For a bit more on vowel harmony, f\u00e9ach an n\u00f3ta th\u00edos<\/strong>.<\/p>\n

an hamstar<\/strong>, the hamster<\/p>\n

hamstair<\/strong>, of a hamster (roth hamstair<\/strong>, a hamster wheel)<\/p>\n

an hamstair<\/strong>, of the hamster (roth an hamstair<\/strong>, the wheel of the hamster\u00a0 — a specific hamster in this case)<\/p>\n

hamstair<\/strong>, hamsters<\/p>\n

na hamstair<\/strong>, the hamsters<\/p>\n

hamstar<\/strong>, of hamsters (cine\u00e1lacha hamstar<\/strong>, kinds of hamsters)<\/p>\n

na hamstar<\/strong>, of the hamsters (gotha\u00ed gn\u00faise gleoite na hamstar<\/strong>, the cute facial expressions of the hamsters)<\/p>\n

So, cad \u00ed an teanga Cheilteach a bhfuil c\u00faig fhocal aici ar<\/strong> “hamster”?\u00a0 Is \u00ed an Bhreatnais \u00ed<\/strong> (It’s Welsh).\u00a0 Agus seo iad<\/strong>.\u00a0\u00a0 I’ve included the literal translations from Welsh to Irish here.\u00a0 For the English, please see na haistri\u00fach\u00e1in<\/strong> below.<\/p>\n

\"Mura<\/a>

Mura raibh gotha gn\u00faise gleoite ag an hamstar sa phicti\u00far eile (thuas), d\u00e9arfainn go raibh gleoiteacht go leor anseo don bheirt (By Dalius Baranauskas – Own work, CC BY 3.0, $3 https:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Hamster#\/media\/File:Roborofskiohamster.jpg)<\/em><\/p><\/div>\n

1) bochdew<\/em> (boch<\/em>, leiceann<\/strong> + tew<\/em>, ramhar<\/strong>).\u00a0 I don’t think there’s a single word in Irish with the exact equivalent meaning, but since Irish allows for the creation of a lot of compound words, I’d say we could improvise with “*ramharleicneach\u00e1n<\/strong>”<\/p>\n

2) bochog<\/em> (plucach, ach \u00e9 mar ainmfhocal<\/strong>)<\/p>\n

3) llygoden fochog<\/em> (luch phlucach<\/strong>)<\/p>\n

4) twrlla’r Almaen<\/em> (marmat na Gearm\u00e1ine<\/strong>)<\/p>\n

5) codlyg<\/em>, b’fh\u00e9idir \u00f3n d\u00e1 fhocal Breatnaise seo<\/strong>: “cod<\/em>” (m\u00e1la, p\u00faitse, fola\u00ed\u00f3g<\/strong>) + “llyg<\/em>” (dall\u00f3g fhraoigh<\/strong>).\u00a0 Ach n\u00edl m\u00e9 cinnte.\u00a0 Eolas ag duine ar bith ar an liosta?<\/strong><\/p>\n

Sin iad<\/strong>: bochdew, bochog, llygoden fochog, twrlla’r Almaen<\/em> agus<\/strong> codlyg<\/em>, agus an chiall “hamstar” orthu go l\u00e9ir.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Hoodathunkit, as they say!\u00a0 C\u00faig fhocal ar<\/strong> “hamster”!\u00a0 Anois, hmmm, meas t\u00fa go bhfuil n\u00edos m\u00f3 n\u00e1 focal amh\u00e1in ar “mhuc ghuine” sa teanga sin?\u00a0 N\u00f3 sa Ghaeilge, fi\u00fa?\u00a0 N\u00f3 i dteanga ar bith eile?\u00a0 Agus c\u00e9ard faoin tseirbil?\u00a0 \u00c1bhar machnaimh agus b’fh\u00e9idir \u00e1bhar taighde l\u00e1 \u00e9igin na coise tinne.\u00a0\u00a0 <\/strong><\/p>\n

T\u00e1 s\u00fail agam gur bhain t\u00fa sult as an mblag tr\u00edtheangach i bp\u00e1irt seo, m\u00e1 t\u00e1 hamstar n\u00f3 hamstair agat mar pheata(\u00ed) n\u00f3 muna bhfuil.\u00a0 D\u00e1la an sc\u00e9il, m\u00e1 t\u00e1 hamsta(i)r agat, c\u00e9n t-ainm at\u00e1 air \/ uirthi \/ orthu? – R\u00f3isl\u00edn<\/strong><\/p>\n

N\u00f3ta<\/strong>: If we left the “e” in the final syllable of “hamster,” it would break the vowel harmony rules for Irish, since “e” is slender (caol<\/strong>) and “a” is broad (leathan<\/strong>).\u00a0 Vowel harmony should probably be a post unto itself, but for now, suffice it to say that, in Irish, if you have broad vowel (a, o, u) on one side of consonant, you have to have another broad vowel on the other side of the consonant, not an “e” or an “i” since “e” and “i” are considered “slender.”\u00a0 Prominent exceptions include “anseo<\/strong>” and “ansin<\/strong>,” but then, they used to be two separate words, so the rule didn’t apply.\u00a0 Ar aon chaoi<\/strong>, there’s always an “eisceacht<\/strong>” to make the “riail.<\/strong>”<\/p>\n

Aistri\u00fach\u00e1n: Breatnais go Gaeilge go B\u00e9arla<\/strong><\/p>\n

1) bochdew<\/em> (boch<\/em>, leiceann<\/strong>\u00a0 \/ cheek + tew<\/em>, ramhar<\/strong> \/ fat), so “fat-cheeked one”.\u00a0 My improvised Irish compound word, “*ramharleicneach\u00e1n<\/strong>,” also means the same thing.\u00a0 I would have to admit, though, that the two-syllable Welsh compound word “bochdew<\/em>” does have a certain succinct appeal that the five-syllable “*ramharleicneach\u00e1n<\/strong>” doesn’t.<\/p>\n

2) bochog<\/em> (plucach<\/strong>, \/ full-cheeked).\u00a0 The Welsh and Irish words are primarily adjectives, so we might consider this as meaning “full-cheeked one.”<\/p>\n

3) llygoden fochog<\/em> (luch phlucach<\/strong> \/ large-cheeked mouse)<\/p>\n

4) twrlla’r Almaen<\/em> (marmat na Gearm\u00e1ine<\/strong> \/ German marmot)<\/p>\n

5) codlyg<\/em>: Perhaps “codlyg<\/em>” is from these two Welsh words: “cod<\/em>” (bag, pouch, pod) + “llyg<\/em>” (shrew).\u00a0 But I’m not sure.\u00a0 So “pouch-cheeked shrew,” perhaps?\u00a0 Anyone on the list know?<\/p>\n

Needless to say, the Welsh word “cod<\/em>” (bag, etc.) has no relation to the codfish, which is “penfras<\/em>” in Welsh (lit. fat-head, large-head, or greasy-head — hmm, and how are we supposed to interpret that<\/em>?).\u00a0 Not that “cod<\/em>” is the most basic word for “bag” in Welsh–in my experience, at any rate, that would be ‘bag<\/em>‘ (pl: bagiau, <\/em>my bag: fy mhag, a.y.y.b<\/em>)<\/p>\n

The only thing I can find out about the history of the word “codlyg<\/em>” is that it shows up in D. S. Evans’ An English and Welsh Dictionary<\/em> (1858).\u00a0 Relatively early for talking about hamsters, it seems to me, but, then, maybe the term was presumed to mean wild hamsters.\u00a0 Actually … are there wild hamsters? \u00a0It seems like a bit of an oxymoron, but I suppose that must be the origin somehow.\u00a0 Now that I think of it, I wonder when people started keeping hamsters for pets.\u00a0 Hmmm, taighde do l\u00e1 na coise tinne.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Getting back to “cod<\/em>” part of “codlyg<\/em>,” it is interesting to note, that much like Welsh, the Old English language had a word “codd<\/em>” for a “bag,” “pouch,” or, ermm, baglike male anatomical part, which led to, yes, “codpiece.”\u00a0 Now, lo and behold, I have been speaking Irish and Welsh for years and never needed the word “codpiece,” so I decided to look it up in both languages.<\/p>\n

For Welsh, we have “copis<\/em>” (basically “codpiece” without the “d” sound in the middle, I assume) and another word “balog<\/em>,” which can also mean “a flap,” although a mere flap, I think, would not offer quite the same degree of “protection” for the contents of the codpiece. \u00a0\u00a0In case you were wondering, Welsh “copis<\/em>” doesn’t mean “coppice” (thicket of small trees, etc.); the Welsh for that is “coedlan<\/em>.”\u00a0 Remember, in terms of language connections, not all that looks like a cognate is a cognate.<\/p>\n

As for Irish, I’ve just checked about a dozen dictionaries, new and old, and can find neither hide nor hair of a word for “codpiece.”\u00a0 I imagine one could use “cochaill\u00edn<\/strong>,” which can have a range of meanings (small cloak, small hood, small bag, small trawl-net–if there is such a thing, small cowl, small pod, small husk, small cupule, which is actually already somewhat diminutive, and, finally, if talking about animals, small scrotum).\u00a0 But that’s all still a bit speculative since I haven’t noticed the use of “cochaill\u00edn<\/strong>” in a context where it could mean “codpiece.”<\/p>\n

If anyone reading this does know the Irish word for “codpiece,” please do write in and let us all know.\u00a0 We’re waiting with bated breath (but not holding said breath)!<\/p>\n

Anyway, considering “cochaill\u00edn<\/strong>” for “codpiece,” makes me all the gladder that I chose “cl\u00f3ic\u00edn<\/strong>” for Cl\u00f3ic\u00edn Dearg<\/em><\/strong>, my translation of Little Red Riding Hood (Cincinnati: Another Language Press, 2001, ISBN: 1922852553).<\/p>\n

What’s the deal with “cl\u00f3ic\u00edn<\/strong>” vs. “cochaill\u00edn<\/strong>“?\u00a0 When I was working on the translation, I thought it was problematic enough that “cochaill\u00edn<\/strong>,” the other possible choice for the “little hood” part of “Little Red Riding Hood,” could also mean “a small spit of phlegm” (based on “cochaille<\/strong>,” a spit of phlegm).\u00a0 If we understand “cochaill\u00edn<\/strong>” as derived from “cochall<\/strong>,” then, yes, it would mean “a small hooded cloak” but if we derive it from “cochaille<\/strong>,” then it means “a small spit of phlegm.” \u00a0And now we have third, if somewhat out-of-context translation for “cochaill\u00edn<\/strong>” (codpiece), which casts a whole new dimension to the story.\u00a0 Linguistic wonders never cease<\/p>\n

“Cl\u00f3ic\u00edn<\/strong>,” on the other hand, pretty much just means “little cloak.”<\/p>\n

Of course, we’re always supposed to understand language in context but …, bhuel, suimi\u00fail<\/strong>!<\/p>\n

Well, that footnote turned out to be almost as long as this blog post itself, but, I hope that it will at least lead to us finding the Irish word for ‘codpiece.’<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\"\"

(le R\u00f3isl\u00edn) Bhuel, as the title of this blog post suggests, Irish isn’t the Celtic language that has five words for ‘hamster.’ \u00a0\u00a0Or as “an leid” in the title said, “N\u00ed h\u00ed an Ghaeilge \u00ed.” In fact, we can take care of the Irish word for ‘hamster’ quite tidily: hamstar, a hamster.\u00a0 Note that the…<\/p>\n

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