Transcript

Bhí fear ann go raibh beirt mhac aige. Dúirt an mac ab óige lena athair, "Tabhair domhsa a bhfuil ag dul dom dod chuid." Do roinn an t-athair a chuid eatarthu agus d'imigh an mac ab óige go dtí dúthaigh iasachta mar ar scaip sé a chuid go baoth rabairneach.

Nuair a bhí deireadh caite aige tháinig gorta ana-ghéar sa tír sin, i dtreo gurbh éigean dó réiteach le duine do mhuintir na tíre chun bheith ag feighil mhuc. D'íosfadh sé bia na muc ach ní raibh ceadaithe dhó san do dhéanamh. Do chuimhnigh sé gur mó lucht tuarastail a thuilleamh a bhí i dtigh a athar agus a ndóthain le n-ithe acu. "Raghadsa ag triall ar mh'athair agus déarfad leis mé a ghlacadh mar dhuine dá sheirbhíseachaibh."

Tháinig sé agus nuair a chonaic an t-athair ag teacht é go hocrach giobalach tháinig ana-thrua aige dhó. Do rith sé ina choinnibh, do chas sé a láimh agus do phóg sé é. Ach dúirt seisean leis an athair, "Á, ní fiú mé feasta bheith mar mhac agat ach fanfad agat i measc na seirbhíseach eile." Dúirt an t-athair leis na seirbhísigh eile, "Tugaig libh an chulaith éadaigh is fearr agus cuirig uime í. Cuirig bróga ar a chosa agus fáinne ar a mhéar. Maraíg an gamhain ramhar dó. Glaoigis[1] ar na comharsain agus beam go sóch nuair gur fhill mo mhac slán."

Nuair a bhí an deartháir críonna ag teacht ó bheith ag obair dh'airigh sé an ceol agus an rince. Dh'fhiafraigh sé dos na seirbhísigh cad fé ndeár an obair seo. Do nis duine acu dhó go raibh a dheartháir tagaithe agus gur mhairbh a athair an gamhain ramhar ar a shon. Tháinig tormas air agus ní raghadh sé isteach. Chuaigh an t-athair amach agus do luigh sé ar thathant air. Ach dúirt seisean leis, "Táimse ag obair duit na blianta so go léir. Níor thugas easonóir duit ná níor dhiúlthaíos d'aon rud iarrais[2] orm a dhéanamh agus níor mharaís oiread is mionnán riamh mar onóir dom. Ach nuair a tháinig mo dheartháir tar éis a choda a bheith anchaite aige do mharaís an gamhain ramhar dó mar is measa leat é ná mise."

"Á, a mhic, arsa an t-athair, is leatsa mo chuid go léir. Bhís in éineacht liom i gcónaí agus níor dheineas aon ionadh dhíot. Bhí do dheartháir imithe chun fáin agus gan súil agam le hé a fheiscint beo. Anois, nuair gur fhill sé slán is cóir adhnó éigint a dhéanamh dó."

Translation

There once was a man who had two sons. The youngest son said to his father, "Give me my inheritance." The father divided his wealth between them and the youngest son went to a foreign land where he spent his share foolishly and extravagantly.

When he had spent the last of it a severe famine came to that land and he had to make an arrangement with one of the inhabitants of the land to look after pigs. He would have eaten the pigs' food but he was forbidden to do so. He remembered that there were many people employed in his father's house and that they had plenty to eat. "I will go to my father and tell him to take me as one of his servants."

He came and when his father saw him coming, hungry and ragged, he took great pity on him. He ran to him, shook his hand and kissed him. But he said to his father, "I am no longer worthy to be your son but rather I will stay among the other servants." The father said to the other servants, "Bring out the best suit and put it on him. Put shoes on his feet and a ring on his finger. Kill the fatted calf for him. Summon the neighbours and we will be merry since my son has returned safely."

When the older son was coming from work he heard the music and the dancing. He enquired of the servants what the reason for this was. One of them told him that his brother had come and that his father had killed the fatted calf for him. He became sulky and refused to go in. The father went out and began to press him. But he said to his father, "I have been working for you all these years. I did not dishonour you or refuse to do anything you asked me to do and you never killed so much as a kid goat in my honour. But when my brother came having misspent his wealth you killed the fatted calf for you like him better than me."

"Ah, my son," said the father, "all my possessions are yours. (...) You have always been with me and I never fussed over you. Your brother had gone astray and I never thought I would see him alive again. Now that he has returned safely it is right to make a fuss over him."

Footnotes

Commentary

This telling of the Parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15: 11-32) is based on a translation supplied to the speaker in advance. Cf. Peadar Ua Laoghaire, Na cheithre Soisgéil as an dTiomna Nua (Dublin, 1915), 191-2. The speaker was encouraged to adapt the text to his own dialect.