Turas Siar 463 - Seán Ó Raghallaigh as Oiligh agus daoine eile ag caint faoí cursaí Iascaireacht agus inseacht scéalta.
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Shampadh é a thabharfadh ariamh.
A miracle it would ever bring..
Níor fhearra amach seoid ó inniu go dtí amárach, agus is rífhear a bheas mo léas ar an tsaol seo, na trí aingle is airde i gcathaoir na glóire, cumhdach m'anam arís lá, mar tá
No jewel will be found from today until tomorrow, and my light on this life will be a kingly man, the three highest angels on the throne of glory, covering my soul again today, as it is.
Níl duine ar bith a déarfas a d'úirt sé trí huaire ar baol dó damnú síoraí ná piantaí ifrinn agus go bhfaighidh sé flaithis Dé ar uair an bháis; caithfidh tú é sin a rá trí huaire.
No one who says what he said three times will be in danger of eternal damnation or the pains of hell and he will gain the kingdom of God at the hour of death; you must say it three times.
Ní hea, 'sin ceann eile, 'sé ceann anois má abraíonn tú é ag dul a chodladh dhuit.
No, that's another one, it's the one now if you say it when you're going to bed to you..
'Chuile oíche ní bhfaighidh tú, ní bhfaigh, ní chaithfeá go deo, gheobhaidh tú isteach go flaitheas.
Every night you will not get, you will not get, you would never spend, you will get into heaven...
Ar caladh sin ort, a mháthair, a dúirt an Slánaíodh air.
On that quay with you, mother, said the Saviour to him.
Ní hea, a mhic, a d'úirt sí, ach go bhfuiltear de do chrochadh de do shéasú a d'úirt sí de do stéaladh de do stróiceadh, do do cheangal de phostaí cruaidhe croiche slinne ag dul thríd a thaobh dheas, do chuid folamh fíormhuislinn a thrifáil leat síos, is fíor sin, a mháthair, a d'úirt sé, níl éinne ag iarraidh staisling trí huaire, aneas uait í a d'úirt sé ar baol dámlú siar í ná pianta ifreann, agus go bhfaighidh sé flaitheas Dé ar uair an bháis, an ndéarfadh mé trí huaire?
No, my son, she said, but that you are being hanged, being seasoned, she said, being stolen, being torn, being tied to the hard posts of the gallows, a blade going through your right side, your empty pure marrow being spilled down with you, that is true, mother, he said, no one wants a blessing three times, from you from the south, he said, for fear it would rebound back or the pains of hell, and that he would get the kingdom of God at the hour of death, would I say it three times?
Scáil ó inniu go dtí amárach agus thriáil muid léas ar an tsaoil seo, na trí aingle is airde i gcathaoir na glóire, cumhdach m'anam arís an lá mar tá íosa úir agus ní deosamh faoi úir agus ní deosamh faoi Mhuire agus ní Joseph óh dhéanfadh beag a chuimhníonns muid í a chroitheadh thíos, a dhóirt, a chuid folamh ar chaith na fotha le muid í a thaobh 'Sin é caithfidh tú a rá trí huaire.
A shadow from today until tomorrow and we tried a light on this life, the three highest angels in the chair of glory, protection of my soul again today as Jesus is fresh and not an idol under the earth and not an idol under Mary and not Joseph, oh, who would do little to remember her to shake her down, to pour, to empty her part on the foundation's side with us beside her. That is what you must say three times.
Aireoidh mise amárach agus beidh sin moch go leor Tógfaidh mé mo sheoltaí go hard amach faoin tír San áit nach bhfaighidh mé lóistín Ach beidh mé amuigh san oíche Bhí muide go mb'fhearr liom beo a stór Is tá mé tuirseach de mo shaol, a Sheáin Ruaidh Díol mo chomhairle is tóg an brón atá orm díom Ná thairis anois ná go deo deo Go raibh mé i ngrá le mnaoi cuirbh le do chába Is ceannaí bríste den chomhairle dhaor Agus gheobhaidh tú do mhian le pósadh Agus nach ródheas an féirín í.
I will feel tomorrow and that will be early enough I will raise my sails high out through the land In the place where I will not find lodging But I will be out at night We were, and I would rather be alive, my darling And I am tired of my life, Red-haired Seán Take my advice and lift the sorrow that is on me off Do not go over it now nor ever ever That I was in love with a woman, put it with your cloak And buy trousers from the dear advice And you will get your wish to marry And isn’t she a lovely little present...
Dhá mbeadh bó ná dhó ag Mondely Bhán is deas a phósfaí í sin agus gabháltas talaí is é a bheith aici ar bheagán cíos.
If Mondely Bhán had a cow or two, she would be nicely married and would have a land holding for little rent.
Ar ndóigh, nach raibh sin aici agus í ag scaradh le ruain a croí ar bhonn cavery go n-íocfaidh sí an phian atá i mo chroí.
Of course, she didn’t have that as she parted with the sorrow of her heart on the basis of hope that she will pay for the pain that is in my heart.