AN GAOḊAL.
113
Se teanga 'n caint ta naoṁta;
Beir air go teann,
Beir air go deo,
Leann e trid sgrios agus pianta,
'S beiḋ se arís mar ḃí se ṁfad-ó,
Ann aimsir suarc na ḃ-Fiannta.
Eoġan J. Ua Carruil,
Chicago.
Triṁaḋ la fiċid de'n mi Iuli, 1891.
My Dear Mr. Logan,
I embody some of my sentiments, regarding
the duty of our people in preserving their native lan¬
guage, in the little poem I have written for your
paper. This is the crude English translation. —
The Counsel of a Friend of Erin.
1
Oh people of Ireland, as the years will come freight¬
ed with
Wisdom, remember your history, and the heroic
deeds of the
Fianii, and the glory of the hundreds that were of
old in Erin.
2
Oh people of Ireland, the years will come filled with
wisdom,
But what will our history be? An alien or a Gaelic
one ?
Of a lost race, or of a living nation? Oh I pray Je¬
sus
My country-men, be ye valiant men, Oh people of
Ireland.
3
The years will come, teeming with wisdom, but pre¬
serve your
Language, Oh race of the Fianii, keep thy customs,
save thy history
That is refulgent as the stars in bosom of the firma¬
ment. Oh
Pulse of my left breast, thou people of Ireland, grasp
upon
Thy language, thine own bright white bright tongue.
4
Oh peoples of Ireland the years will come rejoicing
with
Wisdom, but grasp thou thy language, that is
bright, pure -
Bright. It is the language of song. It is the lang¬
uage of music,
It is the tongue of the language that is holy, grasp
it boldly,
Grasp it for aye ! Follow it through destruction and
pain,
And it will be again, as it was long ago, in the thrice -
Happy times of the Fianii.
JOHN J. CARROLL,
Chicago.
The mail brought us a pamphlet from his Hon¬
or, the Mayor (his defense of the Water Works at
fair), a few weeks ago, addressed “The Gall.” We
beg to assure his Honor that we have had no
"gall" for him unless his calling us out of our
name may now generate it. His Honor is not a
subscriber.
32 Avondale Avenue, Phibsborough,
B'l'aṫa Cliaṫ, 16, Beulteine, '91.
[By some mistake this note had been overlook¬
ed last month; however, some of the poems men¬
tioned in it have appeared.]
A Ṡaoi Ionṁuin,
Cuirim ċugat 'san litir seo ḋá sein¬
néid & trí dánta a sgríoḃ mé féin, ní'l
mé cinnte gur fiú an dadaṁ iad; aċt
is féidir é go d-tiúḃraiḋ siad láṁ con¬
ganta do ċúis ar d-teangan, & fonn éig¬
in do léiġṫeóiriḃ do ṗáipéir; tá ceann
aca sgríoḃṫá air an easaonta dólásaċ
seo atá 'n ar 'measg, agus ceann aca
air an ráḋ seo "Buailiḋ síos an Sac¬
sanaċ," óir measaim go ḃ-fuilmíd uile
'san tír seo air tí ḃeiṫ 'n ar Sacsan¬
aċaiḃ, támaoid ag cailleaṁain gaċ níḋ
a ċuireas difir eadrainne & na Sacs¬
anaċaiḃ, tá teanga, ceol, nósa ag dul
uainn, agus tá teanga, ceol, nósa agus
"politics" an Sacsanaiġ ag teaċt 'n a
n-áitiḃ, seal atá mórán d'Éireannaċaiḃ
ag laḃairt go h-árd do ṫaoḃ a d-tír-
ġráḋa. Tá ḋá ḋán sgríoḃṫa air an n¬
gráḋ; agus aon ṡeinnéid sgríoḃṫa air
mo ṁac, do rugaḋ ḋam ceiṫre míosa ó
ṡoin.
Is dóṫċas liom go m-béiḋ siad fiú
áit ad' ṗáipeur luaċṁar.
Fanaim do ċara fíorḃuan,
Riobard MacSeorraiġ Gordon.
SEINNÉID.
Cia h-í an ḃean óg úd is deise gnaoi,
Is milse beul 'ná mil, is binne gúṫ
'Ná 'n t-eun a ṡeinneas suairc le h-
ais an t-sruṫ',
D'a ḃ-fuil an folt air ġuailniḃ bána 'g
lúiḋe?
Seo í a ċuireas suaiṁneas sáiṁ a m'
ċroiḋe
A n-áit mór-imris; giḋ naċ ḃ-fuil mé
fiú!
Is mé an fear sólásaċ, grinn an-diú,
A's iarrann siḃ-se uile orm; cia h-í?
Mar ḟear gan ċéill atáim ag siuḃal,
gaċ trá
