MYR va mee my-lomarcan troaylt harrish
Sniaul,
Tra va yn coleayrtys y hayrn;
E coamrey harrish cheu Vannin jehn theihll,
As dooghys cur biallys dan Chiarn;
Dy choodaghey n seihll lesh cloagey
yn oie,
As aaish y chur-lesh gys sheelnaue,
Veih boiraghyn seihltagh as laboraght creoi,
Son ooilley cretooryn e laue.
Myr shoh va mee faagit dou hene er
y clieau,
Fegooish nhee dy heshiaght erbee,
Dy ghobberan harrish dagh voirey as streeu,
Ta seaghney Mannin-my-chree;
Tra honnick mee ben voght ayns coamrey
glass,
Cheet my-whail ny mastey yn freoagh,
Lesh ooilley mygeayrt-y-mooie frytlagh as rasst,
Roie myr dy beagh ee er-keoiagh!
Va my chree er ny ghleayshaghey ayns my
cheu-sthie,
Tra honnick mee stayd yn cretoor;
Son ec y chied hylley jee honnick mee mie,
Dy row ee er dhuittym veih pooar.
Tra haink ee ny sniessey dou, cheayl mee
ee gra:
"Ogh! ogh! ta my heaghyn dy trome,
Myr shoh dy ye scart veih sheelnaue son dy braa.
Gys diunid shenn Traa dy gholl roym!"
Va yn ushag veg ruy goll ro-ee gys yn
crouw;
Va ny gheayin gys nyn moiraghyn roie;
Va yn oie er yn aarkey, lesh cochaslys grou,
Dy gastey cheet veih yn niar-hwoaie;
Va fainagh ny ghrianey er neiyrt
harrish oirr,
Ny farkiaghyn dowin yn sheear-ass;
Va yn eayst ayns yn shiar er nirree ayns gloyr;
Va ya sheear ayns y coamrey glass.
Tra hoie shin sheese cooidjagh er lhuss
glass ny faaie,
As dooyrt ee rhym, "Vanninagh, eaisht,
As neem dhyt ass ny scriunyn shoh lhaih
My hrimshey fo soilshey yn eayst."
Eisht ren ee goaill toshiaght, as lhaih
ee myr shoh:
"Ayns laghyn ta er ny gholl shaghey,
Cha row mee rieau laccal my coamrey noa
Dy reayll mee veih feiraght as fliaghey.
Son mish, bee fys ayd er, ta scaan y
chenn ghlare,
Ec cloan Vannin er my hregeil;
Agh s beg fys ta ocsyn dy beeagh eh ny share
Daue mish dy ye harroo dy reill.
Son mish ta er reayll yn fer joarree
ersooyl
Son keeadyn dy vleintyn dy hraa;
As va mee er reill veih yn traie gys Barool,
Da Manninee dooie son dy braa.
Agh nish ta yn voyrn oc er chur lesh yn
Vaarle,
Eer seose yn glione mooar Tolt-y-Will,
As mastey ny reeastyfl er lhiattee Wooar Cardle,
As creggyn yn Creg-Willy-Sill.
Myr tan croaghan sy tourey yn
maase cur er-ouyl,
Tan voyrn er ny chur orroo role,
Lesh y ghah, veih kione heear yn Niarhyl gys Groudle,
As veih Colloo as ny Em gys y twoaie;
Dy-lhiattee veih raaidyn nyn ayraghyn
dooie,
Nagh ren rieau myr shoh my hregeil;
Son van aigney oc gyn y Ellan dy stroie,
Ny chur ayns y joarree treishteil.
O! dy jinnagh adsyn ta sthill er y
cheu
My Ellan veg nish chaglym cooidjagh,
Dy chloh veih my hraieyn lesh siyr yn toyrtmow,
Ta megeayrt-y-moom nish er noaill
toshiaght;
As chyndaa nyn gleayshyn veih ooilley yn
chiaull,
Ta jeant mygeayrt Mannin Veg Veen,
Lesh deiney ta gys dy chooilley nhee doal,
Er-lhimmey son berchys daue hene!
Agh quoi ta ad hene ta geamagh myr
shoh,
Agh adsyn ta laccal pooar dy reill
Harrish Manninee dooie, lesh lorg-reill noa,
My yiow ad sleih doue dy chur-geill?
O! gow shiu my choyrle shiuish sthill ta
er-mayrn
Jeh cummaltee dooie Vannin voght;
As ny chur shiu geill da nyn raaidyn shenn vraane
Mygeayrt-y-mysh lhiggar as jough.
O! dy jinnagh cummaltee Vannin
cordail
Ny shenn leighyn oc keillit dy reayll,
As gyn sodjey nyn draa dy stroie ayns fardail,
Dy eaishtagh rish deiney gyn keeayl!
Agh son aym pene, neem chelleeragh goll
roym,
Dy ollagh mee hene ayns y joan,"
Dooyrt yn red trimshagh, lesh osney dy trome,
"Son jeeagh cre cha lheeah ta my chione."
|
AS I was walking oer Snaefell
alone,
When the twilight was drawing on;
Its cloak was oer the Manx side of the world,
And nature obeying the Lord;
Covering the world with the nights
mantle,
And giving rest unto mankind,
From worldly troubles and from hard labor,
For all the creatures of his hand.
Thus to myself was I left on the
hill,
Without any comrade at all,
To lament oer each struggle and strife,
That troubles Mannin 1 of my heart
When I saw a woman in a grey dress,
To meet me coming midst the ling,
Having all her garments tattered and torn,
And running as if she were mad!
My heart it was then moved within me,
When I beheld the creatures state;
For, at the first glance, I clearly perceived,
That shed fallen from high estate.
When she came near to me, I heard her
say:
"Oh! oh! my troubles are heavy,
Thus divided from mankind for aye,
To old Times depths to mend my way."
The little red bird going to the
bush;
The lambs running to their mothers;
The night was on the sea, with a dark frown,l
It came quickly from the north-east;
The suns chariot had gone oer
the edge,
Waiting below in the south-west;
The moon in the east had risn in glory;
The west was in its robe of green.
When we sat on the green grass
together,°
She said to me, " Manxman, listen,
And I will from out of these writings read
To thee my woe neath the moons
light."
Then she began, and in this manner
read:
"In the days that have passed away,
I never had need of my new garments
To keep me from the cold and wet.
For know, I am the old languages
ghost,
The children of Mannin have left me;
How little they know that it would be best
For me to bear rule over them.
For tis I whove kept the
stranger away
For some hundreds of years of time;
I would have ruled from the shore to Barool,
Over native Manxmen for aye.
Now their pride has brought over the
English
Up the big glen of Tholt-e-Will,
And to the waste spots beside Cardle Vooar,
And the rocks of Creg-Willy-Sill.
As the horsefly in summer the cattle
Maddens, their pride has made them run,
With the sting, from the Niarbyl to Groudle,
From Calf and Chickens to the north;
Leaving the ways of our good
forefathers,
Who neer in this way forsook me;
For their mind was not to harm the Island,
Nor to put trust in the stranger.
Oh! would that they who are still on the
side
Of my little Island would gather,
To drive from my shores quickly the ruin,
That about me has now begun;
And turn their ears from all the
disturbance,
Thats going on about Mannin Veen,
Among men that are blind to everything,
Except to riches for themselves!
But who are those that cry out thus, but
those
Who are seeking power to rule
Oer native Manxmen, with a new sceptre,
If people would pay heed to them?
Oh! list to my advice you that remain
Of the natives of poor Mannin;
And do not give heed to old womens ways
Concerning spirits and beer too.
Oh that the dwellers in Man would
agree
Their old forgotten laws to keep,
And no longer spend all their time in vain,
Listening to men without wisdom!
But for myself, I will soon go my way
To conceal myself in the dust,"
Said the poor creature, with an heavy sigh,
"For behold how gray my head is."
|