Friday, 3 February 2012


Gustave Doré - Dante Alighieri - Inferno - Plate 9 (Canto III - Charon)


Chroym Çharon er oaie as ymmyrt. Va dagh ooilley red goit stiagh ‘sy tooilleilys v’er.

Cha nee cooish dy vleeantyn ny keeadyn v’ayn, agh thooillaghyn foawragh dy hraa, as shenn trommys as pian ‘syn arm v’eh er gliaghtey rish myr ayrn jeh kiaddey ny jeeghyn as myrane lesh Beaynid.

Dy beagh ny jeeghyn er chur da eer gheay chontraartagh, veagh eh er rheynn ooilley traa ‘sy chooinaghtyn echey ayns daa leac corrym rish y cheilley.

Cho lheeah va dagh ooilley red raad chum eh, dy jinnagh sollyssid erbee feiyal thurrick mastey ny merriu, er eddin benrein myr Cleopatra foddee, cha noddagh e hooill ny chronnaghey.

By whaagh eh dy daink ny merriu nyn ymmodee ‘sy traa v’ayn. Haink ad nyn dousaneyn ga dy b'oayllagh daue çheet nyn naeedyn. Cha by churrym ny mian Haron eh smooinaghtyn 'syn annym lheeah echey er cre'n oyr. Chroym eh as ymmyrt.

Eisht rish tammylt cha daink peiagh erbee. Cha b'oayllagh da ny jeeghyn gyn cur peiagh erbee neose veih'n Teihll rish lheid y tammylt. Agh share fys ec ny jeeghyn.

Eisht haink dooinney ny lomarcan. As hoie sheese y scaa beg bibbernee er beck follym as heiy yn baatey jeh'n çheer. Cha nel agh un troailtagh: share fys ec ny jeeghyn. As ren Çharon mooar as tooillit gymmyrt roish as roish rish y scaa tost beg bibbernee.

As va sheean ny h-awiney gollrish sogh vooar va Seaghyn er soghal 'sy toshiaght marish e shuyraghyn, as nagh noddagh geddyn baase myr mactullee vran deiney huitt er cruink thallooin, agh va cho shenn as traa as y pian ayns armyn Haron.

Eisht ren y baatey veih'n awin voal lheeah roshtyn thalloo Dis, as hooill y scaa tost beg er-traie as eh bibbernee foast, as ren Çharon yn baatey y hyndaa dys ymmyrt dy skee erash da'n Teihll. Eisht dooyrt y scaa, va ny ghooinney keayrt dy row.

"She mish y jerrinagh," as eh.

Cha row peiagh erbee rieau er chur er Çharon mongey; cha row peiagh erbee rieau er chur er keayney.


Charon leaned forward and rowed. All things were one with his weariness.

It was not with him a matter of years or of centuries, but of wide floods of time, and an old heaviness and a pain in the arms that had become for him part of the scheme that the gods had made and was of a piece with Eternity.

If the gods had even sent him a contrary wind it would have divided all time in his memory into two equal slabs.

So grey were all things always where he was that if any radiance lingered a moment among the dead, on the face of such a queen perhaps as Cleopatra, his eyes could not have perceived it.

It was strange that the dead nowadays were coming in such numbers. They were coming in thousands where they used to come in fifties. It was neither Charon's duty nor his wont to ponder in his grey soul why these things might be. Charon leaned forward and rowed.

Then no one came for a while. It was not usual for the gods to send no one down from Earth for such a space. But the gods knew best.

Then one man came alone. And the little shade sat shivering on a lonely bench and the great boat pushed off. Only one passenger: the gods knew best. And great and weary Charon rowed on and on beside the little, silent, shivering ghost.

And the sound of the river was like a mighty sigh that Grief in the beginning had sighed among her sisters, and that could not die like the echoes of human sorrow failing on earthly hills, but was as old as time and the pain in Charon's arms.

Then the boat from the slow, grey river loomed up to the coast of Dis and the little, silent shade still shivering stepped ashore, and Charon turned the boat to go wearily back to the world. Then the little shadow spoke, that had been a man.

"I am the last," he said.

No one had ever made Charon smile before, no one before had ever made him weep.

Ta'n skeealeen shoh çhyndaait ass Charon liorish yn Çhiarn Dunsany. Ta'n lioar vunneydagh ry-lhaih er Project Gutenberg.

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