Tras-scríbhinn

Bhí Fionn mhac Cumhaill ag aoireacht buaibh ar mhóin mhór Chill 'ic an Domhnaigh. Agus do chonaic sé an fear mór trí chuan Fionntrá isteach chuige ná geobhadh pláta pléatair[1] idir[2] a cheann is an t-aer agus do gheobhadh an saol go léir idir a dhá chois. Agus do dhein sé aníos ar Fionn. B'é sin aoire na mbó. Agus do dh'fhiafraigh sé do aoire na mbó cá gcónaíonn Fionn mhac Cumhaill anso.

Agus, "Mo (laige)," arsa eisean, "nuair a dhóigh leat Fionn do bheith thoir sin é an uair a bheadh sé thiar agus nuair a dhóigh leat é bheith thiar sin é an uair a bheadh sé thoir. Sin í do shrón agat agus lean í!"

Ní dhein an fear mór ach druidim isteach le Fionn agus do bhuail sé le clabhta baise é. Agus do dh'imigh sé air bhuaidh[3].

Agus do dh'imigh Fionn ansan ' dtína characháinín aoibhinn (aolainn) álainn aonchoise gan barrchleite isteach ná barrchleite amach, ach aon chleite amháin droimeann dearg do bhí i mbarra na cruinneoige ' déanamh ceoil, spóirt agus imreas don laoch a bhíodh ar bord, do Fionn mhac Cumhaill agus dona choileán Bran. Nuair a théadh as oíche agus as aimsire dho Fionn do thairrigíodh sé hin airde na ceithre mhaide mhíne bhuana bhána bhasleathan don fhuinseog ghlégheal don (charn chaortha) mar a mbíodh éiscíní, róinte, míolta móra ' dul ar bois agus ar bais chuige agus ar slatmhaidí rámha. Gach cic dá dtugadh an gaiscíoch do chuireadh sé seacht céad léig i bhfarraige í go mbíodh grean na farraige in íochtar agus cúl na farraige in uachtar. Thug sé a tosach do mhuir agus a deireadh dho thír agus ní stad sé agus níor fhuar sé go dtí go mbuail sé isteach ar thráigh bhreá bháin do bhí aige ríocht na bhfear gorm. Do chaith sé ancaire i muir, dhá ancaire i dtír. Do chuir sé feistiú lae agus (lá is bliana) uirthi i gcás ná beadh sé uaithi ach uair an chloig. Agus do bhuail sé barra a chlaímh ar deic agus do léim sé amach ar an dtráigh bháin. Agus do dhein sé suas fén gcúirt do bhí aige an bhfear mór. Agus do chaith sé (dorn liostraim air) féin.

Agus do ghaibh máthair an fhir mhóir amach agus dúirt sí lena fear, "Tá garsúinín agam," arsa í sin, "i ndeireadh mo shaoil thiar. Agus luífidh mé agus déarfaidh mé gur liom féin thú."

"Níl aon ghnó agamsa anso," arsa Fionn, "mar do mharódh do mhac mé atá imithe go hÉirinn ag triall ar na Fianna."

"Ná bíodh aon eagla ortsa," arsa í sin. "Seo liathróid práis duit, agus tabhair leat í agus buail é léithi agus ní baol duit é."

Nuair a fuair Fionn an liathróid do dh'imigh sé go dtína characháinín aríst agus do thairrig sé an t-ancaire a bhí i dtír aige agus an t-ancaire a bhí i muir aige. Agus do dh'ardaigh é hin airde aríst a sheolta boga bogóideach in airde go barra na gcrann ná raibh barrchleite isteach ná barrchleite amach, ach aon chleite amháin droimeann dearg a bhí i mbarra na cruinneoige ag déanamh ceoil, spóirt agus imreas don laoch a bhíodh ar bord, do Fionn mhac Cumhaill agus dona choileán Bran. Nuair a théadh as oíche agus aimsire dho Fionn do thairrigíodh é hin airde ceithre mhaide mhíne bhuana bhána bhasleathan don fhuinseog ghlégheal don (charn chaortha) go mbíodh éiscíní, róinte is míolta móra ag dul ar bois agus ar bais chuige agus ar shlatmhaidí rámha. Gach cic dá dtugadh an gaiscíoch do chuireadh sé seacht gcéad léig i bhfarraige í go mbíodh grean na farraige in íochtar agus cúl na farraige in uachtar. Ní dhein sé stad ná fuar go mbuail sé isteach ar thráigh Fionntrá. Agus is amhlaidh a bhí an fear mór ansan istigh roimis agus na Fianna go léir bailithe aige.

Agus nuair a tháinig Fionn isteach chuige, "T'fhortún orm," arsa é sin le Fionn, "ní raibh a fhios agam riamh gur tú Fionn mhac Cumhaill go dtí inniubh. Agus caithfidh tú teacht in éineacht liomsa anois agus leis na Fianna."

"(Tomhas san) ar do dhícheall!" arsa Fionn.

Aistriúchán

Fionn mac Cumhaill was herding cows on the big moor of Kilvickadownig. And he saw a big man coming into Ventry harbour towards him. A pewter plate wouldn't fit between his head and the sky, and the whole world would fit between his two legs. And he came up to Fionn. He was the cowherd. And he asked the cowherd where was Fionn mac Cumhaill living here.

And, "My weakness(?)," he said, "when you would think Fionn was to the east that is when he would be to the west and when you would think Fionn was to the west that is when he would be to the east. That is your nose and follow it!"

The big man did nothing but move towards Fionn and he hit him with a clout of his hand. And he left him.

And Fionn then went to his beautiful lovely white single-masted(?) little currach without an outer feather in or an inner feather out, except for one white-backed red feather at the top of the globe which was making music, sport and entertainment for the hero on board, for Fionn mac Cumhaill and for his pup Bran. When daylight and the weather failed Fionn he pulled up the four smooth strong white wide-bladed oars of bright ash of the lumpen mountain ash (?) where little fish, seals, and whales were dashing on the flats of the blades and the sides of the oars. With every kick which the hero gave he would send her seven hundred leagues to sea so that the gravel of the sea was below and the back of the sea above. He gave her bow to sea and her stern to shore and he didn't stop and he didn't cool until he came into a fine white beach in the kingdom of the blue men. He threw an anchor in the sea, two anchors on the land. He prepared her for a year and a day even though he might only be gone from her for one hour. And he hit the tip of his sword on the deck and he jumped out onto the white strand. And he went up towards the court which the big man had. And threw a fistfull of wild iris on himself (?).

And the mother of the big man came out and she said to her husband, "I have a little boy," she said, "at the end of my life. And I will lie down and say that you are my own."

"I have no business here," said Fionn, "because your son, who has gone to Ireland to the Fianna, would kill me."

"Don't you be afraid," she said. "Here is a brass ball for you, and take it with you and hit him with it and you won't be in any danger from him."

When Fionn got the ball he went again to his little currach and he hauled the anchor which was on the land and the anchor which he had in the sea. And he again hoisted up his soft billowing sails to the top of the masts which had neither an outer feather in or an [inn]er feather out, but only one white-backed red feather at the top of the globe which was making music, sport and entertainment for the hero on board, for Fionn mac Cumhaill and for his pup Bran. When daylight or the weather failed him Fionn would pull up the four smooth strong white wide-bladed oars of bright ash of the lumpen mountain ash (?) where little fish, seals, and whales were dashing on the flats of the blades and the sides of the oars. With every kick which the hero gave he would send her seven hundred leagues to sea so that the gravel of the sea was below and the back of the sea above. He didn't stop or rest until he came again into Ventry Harbour. And the big man was there before him with all the Fianna gathered.

And when Fionn came in to him, "How fortunate for me (?)," he said to Fionn, "I never knew that you were Fionn until today. And you must now come with me and with the Fianna."

"Try that (?) with your best effort!" said Fionn.

Fonótaí

Tráchtaireacht

Is léir gurb éard atá anseo ná leagan neamhiomlán de scéal níos faide mar gheall ar Fhionn agus fear gorm. Is deacair a dhéanamh amach conas mar a bheadh ar an scéal dá mbeadh sé iomlán, ach is cosúil go bhfuil gaol aige le roinnt scéalta, ó iarthar Chiarraí den chuid is mó, a bhaineann le Fionn agus pearsana as Tír na bhFear Gorm. Féach Seán Ó Dubhda, 'Seana-sgéalta Ó Dhuibhneachaibh', Béaloideas 6 (1936), 3-32. I bhformhór na leaganacha den scéal triúr fear, seachas fear amháin, a bhíonn in aghaidh Fhinn, agus is plota as an scéal idirnáisiúnta béaloidis ATU 300 The dragon slayer atá i roinnt de na scéalta seo. Féach Hans Jorg Uther, The types of international folktales: a classification and bibliography (3 iml., Helsinki, 2004). Níl iontu seo ach cuid bheag de na céadta de leaganacha Gaeilge den scéal atá ann, ó gach cearn den tír, agus gur le traidisiún na Fiannaíochta a bhaineann mórán díobh. Féach Seán Ó Súilleabháin and Rieder Th. Christiansen, The types of the Irish folktale (Helsinki, 1968).