’S e Ceit Langhorne a sgrìobh am bloga againn an-diugh. Tha i na Neach-taic Corpais aig Dachaigh airson Stòras na Gàidhlig (DASG) aig Oilthigh Ghlaschu. ’S e tasgladh digiteach a th’ ann an DASG ’s e stèidhichte air cruinneachadh de sgrìobhaidhean Gàidhlig agus fiosrachadh a chaidh a chruinneachadh bho choimhearsnachdan air a’ Ghàidhealtachd ’s sna h-Eileanan, agus ann an Alba Nuadh eadar 1960an – 1980an.

Guest blogger, Kate Langhorne, is a corpus assistant at Digital Archive for Scottish Gaelic (DASG) at Glasgow University. DASG is a digital archive based on a collection of Gaelic texts and information gathered from communities in the Highlands and Islands and Nova Scotia between the 1960s – 1980s. Today Kate tells us about some interesting and poetic Gaelic words linked with the sea. An English translation follows below.

Cireasail

Tha tasglann ‘Faclan bhon t-Sluagh’ na chruinneachadh de dh’fhaclan Gàidhlig. Bha na faclan air an trusadh mar phàirt de phròiseact Faclair Eachdraidheil na Gàidhlig a thòisich Oll. Ruairidh MacThòmais aig Oilthigh Ghlaschu ann an 1966.

Bidh am bloga seo a’ coimhead air cuid de na faclan iongantach co-cheangailte ris a’ mhuir.

Chan eil a’ mhuir cho garbh neo cho tarraingeach na shealladh, ’s a bhios i bhon chladach. Seasaidh sibh air mol agus cluinnidh sibh sachdadh na mara. Tha ceangal aig sachdadh ri sac, an tinneas a dh’adhbhraicheas duilgheadasan le bhith a’tarraing anail. Bidh sùradh-bàn a’giùlan na gainmhiche is morghain nuair a bhios e a’ bualadh ri traigh is a’ srùthadh air ais agus air aghaidh.

Air latha teth as t-samhradh, bidh glubaichean uaireannan rim faicinn am measg nan creagan air a’ chladach,’s iad air fàs cho blàth, fionnar fon ghrèin. Chuireadh sibh cas a-staigh annta nam biodh màirteanan, neo màrtan, driuchcainn oirbh bho bhith a’coiseachd air a’ghainmhich.

Thèid seathan nan tonn a ruith chun a’ chladaich; tron tanalach. Bidh iad a’ sluaisreadh air an traigh. Bidh frioghan a’cireasail mur casan. Bidh loinneir air a’ mhuir nuair a bhios i ciùin is boillsgeadh grèine oirre.

Ma bhios sgeir ann an rathad nan tonn a’ ruith chun a’ chladaich agus bidh i ga bhrìseadh, bidh corghlaich na mara ri chluinntinn. Cluinnidh sibh ròcail is glumaradh aig beul na h-uamha. Tha an dà fhacail seo cho coltach ris na fuaimean fhèin.’S e ròc a th’ ann an gairm losgann. Ann am Mac-Talla Vol II., tha an t-seanfhacal seo ann:

“Tha ròcail nan gilleacha – cràigean agus nan losgunn — sgreuchail na peucaige , lìonmhorachd nan damhan – alluidh a’ streap ris na ballachan , na daolan , ’s na durragan a’ teachd a mach as am frògaibh ’na ’n comharraidhean gu ’bheil an t – uisge dlùth.” 

Nach toir sibh sùil, a chàirdean, air Facal bhon t-Sluagh, is chì sibh gu bheil iomadach ciall air cùlaibh sheathan. Chan eil e buileach cho socair ris an fhuaim sin. ’S e plosgadh, air neo a bhith gun anail, as ciall dha ann an Srath Ghlais agus ann an Gleann Urachadan. Tha ciall eile ann, san Eilean Sgitheanach, agus ’s e sin smùgaid a thilgeas cat neo sionnach nuair a bhios e feargach neo fo eagal. Ma ’s e is gu bheil na dùr-thuinn a’ bualadh ri tìr, agus tha miann oirbh a dhol gu muir, thoiribh an aire! Tha sad na mara a’guidhe droch fhortan dhuibh!

Giggling waves

Our fieldwork archive, Faclan bhon t-Sluagh (‘Words from the People’), is based on the Historical Dictionary of Scottish Gaelic which was started at Glasgow University by Professor Derek Thomson in 1966.

This blog will look at some fascinating Gaelic words linked with the sea.

The sea is never as wild in its appearance, nor draws you in so strongly, as it does from the shore. Stand on a shingle and you will hear sachdadh na mara: the wheezing of the sea. The verb sachdadh is connected to sac, which is asthma. A sùradh-bàn carries sand and shingle and throws it up onto the shore, pulling it back on a backwash.

On a hot summer’s day, glubaichean, or sea pools, are sometimes seen among the rocks; cool and warm under the sun. Put your feet in when they are chaffed on the heels and between the toes from walking on the sand. This aligment from walking barefooted is known as màirteanan, or màrtan, driuchcainn.

Waves roll gently, the action known as seathan, through the shallow water near the shore, or the tanalach. The sound of calm waves breaking on the shore is sluaisreadh. Wee choppy waves, frioghan, will giggle (cireasail) around you feet. There may be a loinneir, a gleam, on a calm sea.

If there is a skerry breaking the waves before they reach the shore, the sound has been described as corghlaich, a confused, noisy washing. You will hear ròcail and glumaradh at the mouth of a cave: two wonderfully onomatopoeic words. Ròc is the noise that the toad makes, and the noise of the whelks was described in this proverb from Mac-Talla Vol II:

Tha ròcail nan gilleacha – cràigean agus nan losgunn — sgreuchail na peucaige , lìonmhorachd nan damhan – alluidh a’ streap ris na ballachan , na daolan , ’s na durragan a’ teachd a mach as am frògaibh’ na ’n comharraidhean gu ’bheil an t-uisge dlùth. 

“The croaking of the whelks, the toads and the frogs – the shriek of the peacock, the numerous spiders climbing the walls … all the signs that rain is not far away.”

Have a look at the Fieldwork Archive to find out that there are many meanings behind the word seathan. It’s not necessarily as calm or as peaceful a word as is described for waves. In fact, it means panting in Strathglass and Glen Urquhart. In Skye, it describes the spitting of a wildcat or fox when it is angry.

If the waves are indeed crashing onto the shore, and you still want to sail off onto a wild sea, look out! Sad na mara, the venom of the sea, is wishing you an ill-fated journey!

All photos ((C) SNH/Lorne Gill.