Lovely this. To sleep, perchance to dream... upon soft pile.
Curtis, have you ever been kept awake o'nights by wondering how "The Owl and the Pussy-Cat" might sound in Manx Gaelic?
Ah, I thought as much...
Yn Hullad as Yn Kayt-Pussagh
I
Hie yn Hullad as y Kayt-pussagh magh er y cheayn, Ayns baatey aalin cho glass as pishyr glass hene, Hug ad lhieu mill, as argid dy liooar Fillit seose ayns notey queig punt. Yeeagh y hullad seose er ny rollageyn erskyn, As ghow eh arrane rish gitar beg, “Y Phussagh y ghraih! Y phussagh my vyrneen, S’aalin y pussagh t’ou uss, T’ou uss, T’ou uss! S’aalin y pussagh t’ou uss!”
II
Dooyrt y Pussagh rish y Hullad, “She skianagh jesh uss! S’millish yn aght t’ou goaill arrane! Bare dooin ve poosit, s’roud shinyn er haghney: Agh cre neemayd jannoo son fainey?” Hiaull ad ersooyl, son blein as laa, Dys y çheer raad ta’n billey-Bong gaase, As ayns shen, ayns keyll, va muc veg ny shassoo, Lesh fainey ayns kione e stronney, E stronney, E stronney, Lesh fainey ayns kione e stronney.
III
“Y vuc veen, b’vie lhiat creck, son skillin, Y fainey ayd?” Dooyrt y vuc veg, “B’vie.” As myr shen ghow ad eh ersooyl, as hie ad er poosey yn laa er-giyn, Ec y kellagh-frangagh ta cummal er y chronk. Dee ad myneill, as slissagyn cuinnsey, Va eeit oc lesh spein runseebal; As laue greimmit ec laue, er oirr y geinnagh, Rink ad fo’n rehollys, Rehollys, Rehollys, Rink ad fo’n rehollys.
I thought so. Lear has been much on my mind lately. I could try to name the reasons, but I expect you're way ahead of me here. Yesterday, sitting on Nauset Beach in Orleans, we watched enormous seals swimming about 200 yards offshore, proceeding one after the other in regular rhythm (spaced about five minutes apart) across the ocean, just living. It was so lovely. LONG drive home today. Curtis
Lovely this. To sleep, perchance to dream... upon soft pile.
ReplyDeleteCurtis, have you ever been kept awake o'nights by wondering how "The Owl and the Pussy-Cat" might sound in Manx Gaelic?
Ah, I thought as much...
Yn Hullad as Yn Kayt-Pussagh
I
Hie yn Hullad as y Kayt-pussagh magh er y cheayn,
Ayns baatey aalin cho glass as pishyr glass hene,
Hug ad lhieu mill, as argid dy liooar
Fillit seose ayns notey queig punt.
Yeeagh y hullad seose er ny rollageyn erskyn,
As ghow eh arrane rish gitar beg,
“Y Phussagh y ghraih! Y phussagh my vyrneen,
S’aalin y pussagh t’ou uss,
T’ou uss,
T’ou uss!
S’aalin y pussagh t’ou uss!”
II
Dooyrt y Pussagh rish y Hullad, “She skianagh jesh uss!
S’millish yn aght t’ou goaill arrane!
Bare dooin ve poosit, s’roud shinyn er haghney:
Agh cre neemayd jannoo son fainey?”
Hiaull ad ersooyl, son blein as laa,
Dys y çheer raad ta’n billey-Bong gaase,
As ayns shen, ayns keyll, va muc veg ny shassoo,
Lesh fainey ayns kione e stronney,
E stronney,
E stronney,
Lesh fainey ayns kione e stronney.
III
“Y vuc veen, b’vie lhiat creck, son skillin,
Y fainey ayd?” Dooyrt y vuc veg, “B’vie.”
As myr shen ghow ad eh ersooyl, as hie ad er poosey yn laa er-giyn,
Ec y kellagh-frangagh ta cummal er y chronk.
Dee ad myneill, as slissagyn cuinnsey,
Va eeit oc lesh spein runseebal;
As laue greimmit ec laue, er oirr y geinnagh,
Rink ad fo’n rehollys,
Rehollys,
Rehollys,
Rink ad fo’n rehollys.
I thought so. Lear has been much on my mind lately. I could try to name the reasons, but I expect you're way ahead of me here. Yesterday, sitting on Nauset Beach in Orleans, we watched enormous seals swimming about 200 yards offshore, proceeding one after the other in regular rhythm (spaced about five minutes apart) across the ocean, just living. It was so lovely. LONG drive home today. Curtis
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