Dooinney ny Fainnaghyn-Cleayshey Airhey
She ashlish v’ayn, foddee. Shoh ny ta fondagh—hyndaa mee laa dy row ass jingey caayrey, as roshtyn ny cabbagyn as fakin keiyghyn shliawin goll sheese ‘syn ushtey dy eaynagh as geayney, as fakin yn awin lheeah ‘oawragh snaue my haghey as ny reddyn cailltey aynjee sheer-chassey, as smooinee mee er ashoonyn as Traa neuerreeishagh, as fakin as goaill yindys jeh ny lhongyn reinoil noa er jeet veih’n cheayn.
By eisht eh, mannagh vel marranys orrym, honnick mee fer lieh-lhie er boalley as jeeaghyn rish ny lhongyn, dooinney as fainnaghyn cleayshey airhey echey. Va blass dorraghey fir ny jiass er: va renaigyn deyll-ghoo e farveeal er ngiallaghey beggan ec sollan; v’eh ceau jaggad gorrym dorraghey myr ta marrinee ceau, as bootsyn lhiennoo shiaulteyr; agh va’n tooill echey jeeaghyn ny sodjey na ny lhongyn, myr dy chronnee eh ny reddyn sodjey hene.
Eer tra loayr mee rish cha hayrn erash eh y jeeaghyn shen, agh dreggyr eh mish fo’n vlakey soit cheddin myr dy row e smooinaght freayney er faarkaghyn foddey lomarcan. Denee mee jeh cre’n lhong haink eh er; shimmey lhong v’ayns shen. Va ny lhongyn shiauill ayn, as ny shiauill oc fillit as ny cruin oc jeeragh as kiune, myr keyll yeuree ; va ny gaaltanyn ayn, as laineyryn mooarey heid jaagh liastey seose ‘syn aer conghorraghey. Dreggyr eh nagh daink eh er fer erbee jeu. Denee mee jeh cre’n colught v’eh gobbraghey ayn, as eh ny hiaulteyr dy baghtal; dimraa mee enmyn mie er enney, agh cha row enney echeysyn orroo. Eisht denee mee jeh c’raad v’eh gobbraghey as cre’n obbyr v’echey. As dooyrt eh: “Ta mee gobbragh’ ayns Mooir yn Amlee, as she mish fer s’jerree ny roosteyryn marrey, y fer s’jerree ta faagit bio.” As chrie mee e laue reesht as reeshtagh. Dooyrt mee: “Va aggle orrin dy row shiu marroo. Va aggle orrin dy row shiu marroo.” As dreggyr eh dy trimshagh: “Cha nel. Cha nel. Ren mee peccaghyn ro-hrome er y wooir Spaainagh: cha nel eh lhiggit dou baase y gheddyn.”
The Man With The Golden Ear-Rings
It may be that I dreamed this. So much at least is certain—that I turned one day from the traffic of a city, and came to its docks and saw its slimy wharves going down green and steep into the water, and saw the huge grey river slipping by and the lost things that went with it turning over and over, and I thought of the nations and unpitying Time, and saw and marvelled at the queenly ships come newly from the sea.
It was then, if I mistake not, that I saw leaning against a wall, with his face to the ships, a man with golden ear-rings. His skin had the dark tint of the southern men: the deep black hairs of his moustache were whitened a little with salt; he wore a dark blue jacket such as sailors wear, and the long boots of seafarers, but the look in his eyes was further afield than the ships, he seemed to be beholding the farthest things.
Even when I spoke to him he did not call home that look, but answered me dreamily with that same fixed stare as though his thoughts were heaving on far and lonely seas. I asked him what ship he had come by, for there were many there. The sailing ships were there with their sails all furled and their masts straight and still like a wintry forest; the steamers were there, and great liners, puffing up idle smoke into the twilight. He answered he had come by none of them. I asked him what line he worked on, for he was clearly a sailor; I mentioned well-known lines, but he did not know them. Then I asked him where he worked and what he was. And he said: “I work in the Sargasso Sea, and I am the last of the pirates, the last left alive.” And I shook him by the hand I do not know how many times. I said: “We feared you were dead. We feared you were dead.” And he answered sadly: “No. No. I have sinned too deeply on the Spanish seas: I am not allowed to die.”
Ta'n skeealeen shoh çhyndaait ass The Man With The Golden Ear-Rings liorish yn Çhiarn Dunsany. Ta'n lioar vunneydagh ry-lhaih er Project Gutenberg.
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