Seanfhaclan Gàidhlig – Gaelic Proverbs (2)

An tuathanachas agus an dùthaich – farming and the countryside

Nuair a sgrìobh mi an turas mu dheireadh mu sheanfhaclan Gàidhlig, ’s e ‘a mhuir is an t-iasgadh’ a bha anns a’ chuspair. An turas seo bha mi airson sùil a thoirt air seanfhaclan às an t-saoghal eile de Ros an Ear, an fheadhainn a chuireas an cèill smaointean ar sinnsearan steidhichte air na chunnaic an suilean mothachail air an dùthaich agus air na tuathanasan.

When I last wrote about Gaelic proverbs, the subject was ‘the sea and fishing’. This time I thought I’d look at proverbs relating to the other aspect of life in Easter Ross, ones which express the thoughts of our ancestors based on what their observant eyes saw in the countryside and on the farms.

‘S e saoghal cruaidh a th’ ann – it’s a hard life! :

Bidh an t-ubhal as fheàrr air a’ mheangan as àirde.
The best apple is on the highest bough.

Chan ann leis a’chiad bhuille thuiteas a’chraobh.
It is not with the first stroke that the tree falls.

Cha tuit caoran à cliabh falamh.
Peats don’t fall from empty creels.

Chan eil deathach an taigh na h-uiseig.
There is no smoke in a lark’s house.

Am fear nach dèan cur sa Mhàrt, cha bhuain e san Fhoghar.
He who will not sow in March will not reap in autumn.

Air an tuathanas – on the farm:

Chan i bhò ‘s àirde geum as mò bainne.
The loudest cow is not the best milker.

Is ladarna gach cù air a shitig fhèin.
Every dog is bold on his own midden.

Gheibh cearc an sgrìobain rudeigin, is chan fhaigh cearc a’ chrùbain dad idir.
The scraping hen will find something, but the creeping hen will find nothing.

Aon bhò a bhristeas an garradh, ‘s a dha dheug a leumas
One cow breaks the fence, and a dozen leap it.

 Is i an dias as truime as isle chromas a ceann.
The heaviest ear of corn bends its head lowest

Moran sgalan, ‘s beagan ollainn, mun dubhairt Muisean ‘s e lomairt na muice.
Great cry and little wool, as the Devil said when he sheared the sow.

An t-sealg –  hunting:

Cùm do chù ri leigeadh.
Hold back your dog till the deer falls.

Am fear a thèid a ghnàth a-mach le lìon, gheibh e eòin air uairibh.
The man who always goes out with his net will catch birds sometimes.

Is leor luathas na h-earba gun na coin a chur rithe.
The roe is swift enough without setting the dogs on her.

 Is iomadh urchair tha dol san fhraoch.
Many a shot goes into the heather.

Leasanan nàdair – lessons of nature:

Ge milis a’ mhil, cò dh’imlicheadh o bhàrr dri i?
Honey may be sweet, but no-one licks it off a briar.

Cha dèan aon smeòrach Samhradh.
One mavis doesn’t make summer.

Cha tàinig eun glan riamh à nead a’chlamhainn.
A clean bird never came out of a kite’s nest.

Mhealladh e ‘n t-ugh bhon chorra-ghlais, ged bhiodh a da shuil a’ coimhead air.
He would cheat the heron of her egg, though her two eyes were fixed on him.

Far an taine ‘n abhainn, ‘s ann as mò a fuaim.
Where the stream is shallowest, it is noisiest.

Is fad’ an abhainn air nach fhaighear ceann.
It’s a long river whose head can’t be found.

Tha chomhachag ri bron, thig tuiltean oirinn.
The owl is mourning, rain is coming.

Is binn gach eun ‘na dhoire fhein.
Sweet sings each bird in his own grove.

Agus fear mu deireadh, fìor gu dearbh! And the last one – true indeed!

Breac à linne, slat à coille is fiadh à fìreach – mèirle às nach do ghabh Gàidheal riamh nàire.
A fish from the river, a staff from the wood and a deer from the mountain – thefts no Gael was ever ashamed of.