Posts tagged with "masculine"

Happiness Is … Lots of Ways to Say “Happy” in Irish (including “Happy Christmas”)

Posted by róislín No Comments
Dec 3 2011

(le Róislín)

Recently we talked about some of the more whimsical (i.e. jingle-ish) ways to describe Christmas (“Holly Jolly” and “Berry Merry”) in English and pondered their translatability into Irish.  Let’s get back to the more traditional Irish phrase, and look at its various forms (singular and plural, greeting and response):

Nollaig Shona duit [NUL-lik HUN-uh ditch], Merry/Happy Christmas to you (singular)

Nollaig Shona duitse [NUL-lik HUN-uh DITCH-uh], Merry Christmas to you (singular, the “response” or “back at you” form).  This, or “Agus Nollaig Shona duitse,” would be used if a person has just greeted you with “Nollaig Shona duit” or perhaps in an email exchange that’s almost “i bhfíor-am.”  If you’re sending a greeting card in the mail, I wouldn’t use the “response” form, even if you have received a card from the other person, because so much time will have elapsed.  The response form is created by adding the suffix “-se” [shuh] to “duit.”

Nollaig Shona daoibh [… deev], Merry Christmas to you (plural).  Remember that Irish, like most European languages, has separate words for “you” (singular) and “you” (plural).  In these Christmas greetings, the words for “you” as such (tú, sibh) don’t show up, but they are embedded in the words “duit” (to you) and “daoibh” (to you, plural), as endings.

Nollaig Shona daoibhse [… DEEV-shuh], Merry Christmas to you (plural, response form)

So those are the forms.  But why do we say “Happy Halloween” and “Happy Easter” but “Merry Christmas” (stateside) in English? Diabhal a fhios agam!  I just follow the trend that “Christmas” is more typically considered “happy” rather than “merry” in both Irish and British English.  At any rate, “sona / shona” is considered to mean “happy” rather than “merry,” for whatever difference that makes.

You might recognize the word “sona” (happy) from other phrases like “Lá Breithe Sona duit!” (Happy Birthday to you) or “Tá an bhean sona sásta” (The woman is happy content/satisfied).  However, in most cases, the first way Irish learners are told to say “I am happy” is “Tá áthas orm,” which literally means “Happiness is on me.”  There is also an adjective form “áthasach” but it is usually used for things like news and stories; it also means “glad,” “joyful,” and “gleeful.”

Why “sona” [SUN-uh] and not “shona” [HUN-uh] in these two examples?  In the phrase “Lá Breithe Sona duit,” the adjective “sona” describes “lá,” a masculine noun.  “Nollaig,” on the other hand, is feminine, so it takes the form “shona.”  In the sentence “Tá an bhean sona sásta,” the phrase “sona sásta” is separate from the subject (an bhean).  Similarly, “Tá an chearc beag” (the hen is small) but “Tá an chearc bheag bán” (the small hen is white).  Adjectives in this position in the sentence (technically called “predicate adjectives”) do not agree with their noun in gender, so they will not alternate between lenited forms (shona, bheag) and basic forms (sona, beag).

More?

happiness: gliondar, lúchair, sonas (that’s the noun form of “sona”), and “séan” [shayn, like the name “Shane” – note the difference from “Seán” and “sean”]

happy: gliondrach, séanmhar, lúchaireach

Still more?

Often the idea “happy” is expressed in a phrase, or is simply implied:

Hanukah faoi mhaise [… fwee WUSH-uh], Happy Hanukah, lit. Hanukah “under” adornment, i.e. flourishing

Athbhliain faoi mhaise [AH-VLEE-in fwee WUSH-uh], Happy (flourishing) New Year

For Kwanzaa (not overwhelmingly the subject of Irish language greetings, but one never knows), there seems to be some precedent for using “joyous” (áthasach, gliondrach, lúchaireach, suairc) – take your pick, I guess.  No gender issues to worry about here, since Kwanzaa, as a focal iasachta is a “substantive” (genderless) noun in Irish.  Seems to me one could use “sona” also, and then the phrase would, in my view, have a slightly better “flow.”

And as a reminder, the traditional Easter greeting is “Beannachtaí na Cásca” (the blessings of Easter), bypassing the word “happy” altogether.

Overwhelmed by the variety?  Well, you can always add to the mix and create a completely new phrase, as Neil Diamond did with his “A Cherry Cherry Christmas,” with its rollicking refrain of “a very merry, cherry cherry, holly holy, rock and rolly Christmas.”  Hmmm, more food for thought.  “Silín silín” doesn’t quite cut it!  My basic recommendation is that if you intend to use any of these phrases in their traditional forms, follow the guidelines – don’t just randomly pick a word for “happy” or for “merry” and try to match it with Christmas, or any other holiday.  But if you want to create your own unique phrase, the world is your “oisre” (to hybridize an English idiom with Irish)!

Gluais: iasacht, a loan, a borrowing; silín [SHIL-een], cherry

Laethanta na Seachtaine i bhFrásaí le “Dé” (Days of the Week, with Pronunciation, in “Dé” Phrases)

Posted by róislín No Comments
Sep 27 2011

(le Róislín)

As alluded to in the previous blog, there are two main ways to refer to the days of the week in Irish.  One is when the day is the subject of the sentence, as in “Inniu an Luan” (Today is Monday).  The other form is preceded by the word “Dé” instead of the word “an” and is typically used to say “on Monday / Tuesday,” etc. 

Here are the seven weekday names in the “Dé” form:

Dé Domhnaigh [djay DOH-nee]

Dé Luain [djay LOO-in]

Dé Máirt [djay mawrtch]

Dé Céadaoin (or alternately, especially in Donegal, Dé Céadaoine) [djay KyAY-deen]

Déardaoin (no separate word “dé” since it’s already built in) [DjAYR-deen]

Dé hAoine [djay HEEN-yuh]

Dé Sathairn [djay SAH-hirzhn]

As you may have noticed, there are slight changes to the names, sometimes at the beginning, sometimes at the end, and sometimes internally.  That’s the way Irish works!  The changes are as follows:

Luan and Satharn: insert an “i” before the final consonant or consonant cluster.

Domhnach: insert an “i” as above, which causes the “ch” of “Domhnach” to change to “gh”

Máirt and Céadaoin: are no longer lenited.

Déardaoin: the preceding “an” is lost; no other change

Aoine: a lower-case “h” is prefixed

The pronunciation of the “Dé” element will vary slightly, according to how “slenderly” you pronounce your slender “d’s.”  Some people pronounce it almost like “jay,” transliterated as “djay.”  For other speakers, it’s more like the “d” you might hear in titles like “The Duke of York” or “The Duke of Atholl” but not in the “Dukes of Hazzard” or other American usages (like “The Duke” himself, of course).  You might say it’s about halfway between an American pronunciation of “day” and an American pronunciation of “jay.” 

This word “Dé” is from a now-archaic word in Irish, “dia,” meaning “day.”  The “Dé” form meant “on the day of.”  The curious part of all this, of course, is that this word for “day” is not at all related to the ordinary Irish word for day, “lá,” as in “Tá an lá go maith.”  So Irish has two words for “day.”  One, “lá” is uniquely Gaelic with parallels in Scottish Gaelic and Manx.  The other, “dia” or “dé,” with very limited application in Irish, is in fact a neat tie in to the word for “day” in many other European languages (dies, día, dydd, deiz, Tag, etc.) 

Alternately to all of this, one can say: ar an [on the] Luan, ar an Máirt (or ar an Mháirt, depending on dialect), ar an gCéadaoin (ar an Chéadaoin), etc.

Also, these days, we find statements like “Inniu Dé Luain” for “Today is Monday,” but this isn’t as traditional.

Sin é – cur síos ar an bhfocal “Dé.”  SGF – Róislín

Laethanta na Seachtaine (Days of the Week, in Irish, with pronunciation)

Posted by róislín 3 Comments
Sep 24 2011

(le Róislín)

And one more féilire-related topic: laethanta na seachtaine.  Which could also be called “laethe na seachtaine.”  Both plural forms of “lá” are widely used, “laethanta” and “laethe.”

You’ve already noticed the use of “an tuiseal ginideach” in this phrase, right?  That accounts for the “-e” ending to the word “seachtain.”  Since we’re saying “of the week,” not just “the week,” the common form “seachtain” undergoes a change for the genitive case (to “seachtaine”).  The definite article also changes from “an” to “na.”  That last change is quite systematic in Irish, and is also quite separate from the use of “na” for plural forms, which you’ve probably also seen.  Just to hammer that point home, what form of the definite article (“an” or “na”) would you use for the following phrases?  Freagraí thíos (A).

1) Raidió ____ Gaeltachta

2) doras ____ hoifige

3) Mí ____ Nollag

4) ____ Nollaig

5) ____  horduimhreacha

And now to na laethanta iad féin.  There are two main forms for each day, so this theme will take at least two blogs.  The forms in today’s blog are used for sentences like “Today is Monday” or “Monday is the first day of the work week.”  A separate blog will deal with the phrases that start with the word “Dé” as in “Dé Luain,” (on Monday) where an tuiseal ginideach is once again required, even though the phrase appears adverbial. 

As you can see from this list, some of the weekday names are masculine (like An Luan) and some are feminine (marked by lenition, or in the case of Aoine, marked by the lack of a prefixed “t-“).  Starting with Sunday:

An Domhnach [un DOH-nukh, with the “m” silent]

An Luan [un LOO-un]

An Mháirt [un wartch, with the “m” silent]

An Chéadaoin [un HyAY-deen, with the “c” silent and an initial “h” sound as in English “human” or the name Hugh / Huw, in other words, not like the “h” of “hat,” “hall,” or “hello.”]

An Déardaoin [un DjAYR-deen]

An Aoine [un EEN-yuh]

An Satharn [un SAH-hurn, with the “t” silent].

So, could you tell which of these are the feminine nouns, and which are masculine?  Freagraí thíos (B).

Sin é for the “an” forms.  Next time, the “Dé” forms.  But in case you thought this blog was quite short and sweet, you’ll see that the nótaí thíos are about as long as an blag é féin.  Vive la “footnote”!  Or should that be “le footnote”?  Oh, I guess it really should be “Vive la note en bas de page!”  But that doesn’t have quite the bilingual panache I was hoping for.  So maybe I should just stick to unadorned Irish.  “Fonótaí abú!”  Sásúil?  SGF, Róislín

Gluais do na freagraí: baininscneach (feminine), firinscneach (masculine)

Freagraí (A): 1) Raidió na Gaeltachta, 2) doras na hoifige, the door of the office, 3) Mí na Nollag, December, lit. the month of (the) Christmas, 4) An Nollaig, (the) Christmas, with the basic form of the definite article, “an,” since for this example, the word “Christmas” stands alone, not embedded in a possessive context like “Daidí na Nollag” or “Mí na Nollag,” 5) na horduimhreacha, the ordinal numbers, with “na” used here because the noun is plural, not because it’s in a possessive relationship to another noun.   

Freagraí (B):

Baininscneach: An Mháirt and An Chéadaoin, marked by lenition, and An Aoine, marked by the absence of a prefixed “t-“ before vowels.  How can something be marked grammatically by the absence of a letter?  Well, I guess it doesn’t happen in English, but remember the following basic nouns in Irish: an t-úll (masculine), an uimhir (feminine),      an t-oráiste (masculine), and an oifig (feminine).  The “t-“ in front of “úll” and “oráiste” marks these words as masculine, and the lack of a prefixed “t-“ in front of “uimhir” and “oifig” marks those words as feminine.  Why does this matter?  As with the Romance languages, adjectives in Irish agree with the noun in gender, so we need to know a noun’s gender in order to pair it up with an adjective.  Of course, in Irish this is mostly indicated by initial consonant change, not by alternate endings like the Spanish “-o” and “-a,” but the concept still applies – masculine noun, masculine adjective form; feminine noun, feminine adjective form. We also need to know a noun’s gender to create the correct possessive form.  And to deal with all of that would take way more than one blog, so for here, it’s just a heads-up for future topics. 

Firinscneach: An Domhnach, An Luan, An Déardaoin, An Satharn

Fonóta faoi na Freagraí: To be a little more beacht and to harken back to the word’s origin, we should remember that “Déardaoin” is actually variable.  Some speakers consider it feminine, which is logical enough, given that it is based on the word “Aoine,” which, as we saw above, is feminine.  “Aoine” is an old word for “fasting,” and “Déardaoin” means “the day between two fasts.”  Normally when various prefixed elements (here, the whole “déard-“ part) are added to a root noun, the noun retains the original gender, but not in this case, at least not by most modern standards.  But the variability of gender here does reflect the fact that the original root of this phrase (aoine) is feminine. 

The good news?  Since this day’s name happens to start with the consonant “d,” which resists lenition after “n,” in most cases it really won’t matter if the word is considered masculine or feminine – you still say “an Déardaoin.”  Gender would normally come into play if you wanted to say something like “Black Thursday,” (referring to October 24, 1929, a seminal day in the fall of Wall Street, which led to the Great Depression of the 1930s).  But even there, the same rule kicks in, “d” resisting lenition after “n” in the preceding word (which is why we say “An Danmhairg,” Denmark, a feminine noun, and “an deacracht,” the difficulty, also feminine, without changing the “d” to “dh”).  So we say “Déardaoin Dubh,” whether we consider the word “Déardaoin” to be masculine or feminine; in other words, we don’t use the usual feminine form, “dhubh”.

There aren’t too many other “Thursday” phrases that would be followed by adjectives, at least not that come readily to mind.  Hmm, how about “Sweet Thursday,” as in the John Steinbeck novel?  Well, Déardaoin Milis, if we stick with the masculine interpretation.  Déardaoin Mhilis, if we consider it feminine, but given that the novel is in English, and there’s no Irish translation, fad m’eolais, it’s a bit of a moot point. 

“Thursday Next,” as in the Jasper Fforde novels, is a character name, so even if we translated Fforde’s works into Irish, the character name would likely stay the same as in English.  Especially since in Irish the idea of “next” (in time) takes three words (an __ seo chugainn), so it would be a bit awkward as a character name (An Déardaoin Seo Chugainn).  A bit like being named “Moon Unit,” perhaps, although she seems to have adjusted just fine. 

Other “next” possibilities?  Equally problematic: An Chéad Déardaoin Eile (next Thursday, in sequence, not in time).  Not likely for a character name, and not really a characteristic usage in Irish.  For normal Irish adverbial use, “an Déardaoin dar gcionn” would be more typical (next, i.e. the following Thursday).  

The next (nearest in distance) Thursday: An Déardaoin Is Neasa, but that is a fairly improbable form, unless the character “Thursday” got cloned and a group of identical Thursdays was standing in line, one being nearest to you.  Bottom line, though, is even if someone wanted to use any of these possible forms, they still wouldn’t clarify the gender issue for “Déardaoin.”  “Seo” doesn’t change for gender and nor would “eile” since it starts with a vowel (not-lenitable).  Nor would “Is Neasa” since it starts with a vowel and the first word of that phrase  is actually a verb (“is”).  And verbs in Irish don’t have gender!  Unless they are ainmfhocail bhriathartha, but that is definitely “scéal eile.”  So, returning to the crux of the issue, “Déardaoin” is considered masculine according to the modern standard, and most other uses in which it would possibly occur are unlikely to shed any further light on the topic because of the chance spellings of the words that would follow.  So we’ll leave it as firinscneach. 

Anyway, now I’ll have to go hunt up whether Fforde or the Steinbeck novel have been translated into Irish and if a translator has already pondered these issues, but my hunch is “neamhdhóchúil” (unlikely).   Deireadh na nótaí, faoi dheireadh!

Ag Caint faoi Bhia (hunger, hungry, etc.)

Posted by róislín No Comments
Aug 28 2010

Agus mé ag éisteacht leis an raidió le déanaí, chuala mé clár faoi neamhshlándáil bia.  Bhí an clár i mBéarla ach shocraigh mé ag an am go scríobhfainn blag faoi théarmaí Gaeilge a bhaineanns le bia.  Níl mé ag caint anseo faoi chineálacha áirithe bia mar thrátaí grianthromaithe nó vaiféil, ach go ginearálta, faoi bhia agus ocras agus a leithéid.

While I was listening to the radio recently, I heard a program about food insecurity.  The program was in English but I decided at the time that I would write a blog about Irish terms pertaining to food.  I’m not talking here about specific types of food, like sun-dried tomatoes or waffles, but generally, about food, hunger, and the like. 

So here are the basics:

Tá ocras orm [taw OK-russ OR-um], I’m hungry, lit. hunger is on me.

Hunger, like many other feelings (tart, thirst; brón, sadness, srl.), is “on you” in Irish. 

There is an adjective “ocrach” (hungry), but it is reserved more for saying someone has a “hungry appearance” (cuma ocrach) or for being abstract (na blianta ocracha, the hungry years; talamh ocrach, hungry soil, srl.).  “Ocrasach” is a variation. 

You might be asked, “An bhfuil ocras ort?” (Are you hungry, lit. Is there hunger on you?)

Possible answers could be:

Tá, tá ocras orm: Yes, I’m hungry.

Níl, d’ith mé tamaillín ó shin: No, I ate a little while ago.  But don’t try turning down a cup of tea in Ireland – somehow it’s just not done.  Actually, let me revise that.  Often what’s done is that you politely decline the tea the first time it’s offered.  Then it will probably be offered again, so turn it down again but sounding a little more hesitant.  But you’re still saying you don’t want to put your host to any trouble and your host is insisting it’s no trouble at all at all.  But the tea will probably be offered a third time, at which time most people will acquiesce and accept the tea.  Which everyone knew all along would be the likely outcome.  I know that’s a bit of a scéal thairis (digression), so let’s get back to hunger.    

If you’re really hungry, you could say:

Tá mé stiúgtha leis an ocras [… SHTYOOG-huh lesh un OK-russ], I’m perished with hunger (famished). 

So, “ocras” is the word most commonly used to describe hunger that an individual feels.  Turning to the more somber side of the issue though, and to the reason why “slándáil bia” is such an important topic these days, we have the word “gorta.”  In fact, this word has pretty much entered the vocabulary everyone should know to discuss even the basics of Irish history, when speaking English, since the phrase “An Gorta Mór” (The Great Hunger) appears to have largely replaced the term “potato famine” referring to the 1845 to 1851 time period.  

If one is very new to learning the Irish language, but has read in general on Irish history, one might well have encountered the word “gorta” before learning the word “ocras.”  In that case, it might seem surprising that there’s this shift in vocabulary, that one can’t just take the word “hunger” from the phrase “An Gorta Mór” and drop it into the everyday question, “Are you hungry?”  But this kind of thing happens regularly with languages, one word for one context and another word, meaning almost the same thing, for another context. 

So how else is the word “gorta” used, aside from the phrase “An Gorta Mór”?  Here are some samples:

bliain ghorta, a year of famine

bás den ghorta, death from starvation or famine

There’s also the phrase, “Bhí gorta air” meaning “He was weak with hunger.”  In my experience, however, that’s not used in everyday situations, even when one feels starving simply because it’s been some hours since one’s last meal.  In that case, the phrase with “stiúgtha” would be more likely.  In fact, for any of us in a country or region where “slándáil bia” is not an active concern, I think we tend to use the phrase “starving” even when we’re nowhere near the medical definition.

And having said all of this, yes, there is some overlap.  For example, there are at least two ways to say someone starved to death: “Fuair sé bás den ocras” or “Fuair sé bás den ghorta.”  In both cases, the more literal translation is “he got death from (the) hunger.”

To end on a more upbeat note, there’s also the well-known seanfhocal, “Is maith an t-anlann an t-ocras” (Hunger is the best sauce).  Nice for the thought and nice also as a reminder about inserting the letter “t-“ after the definite article (“an”) when dealing with an “ainmfhocal” which is both “fireannach” (masculine) and “uatha” (singular) and which starts “le guta” (with a vowel).  Had to end on a grammar note, didn’t I?  Bhuel, tá mé ag dul amach le haghaidh bróinse.  Tá ocras orm anois agus is dócha go gcuirfidh sin anlann ar an mbia!

Nóta ginearálta:  It’s at least another blog’s worth, but there are dozens of other terms like “An Gorta Mór” that are used when discussing Irish history (in English) that either have no English equivalent or for which the literal English translation doesn’t have the same nuance as the Irish.  The same is true, of course, for other languages around the world, with terms such as “raj,” “glasnost,” or “wampum.”  In fact, it’s also true for some English terms that might be used in discussing American history in Irish, such as “the Pilgrim Fathers,” for which the Irish term is “na Pilgrim Fathers.”  One could always take “pilgrim” (oilithreach) and “father” (athair) and construct a term, but in some cases, it’s best just to leave the term in its original language.

Lá na Brataí (Flag Day) i Meiriceá

Posted by róislín No Comments
Jun 14 2010

Ceiliúrtar Lá na Brataí i Meiriceá ar an 14ú lá de mhí an Mheithimh.  Cad a dhéantar?  Paráidí in áiteanna (is fiú le rá Quincy, MA., Traoi (Troy), NY, agus Fairfield, WA), searmanais, canadh an amhráin náisiúnta, agus na bratacha iad féin curtha ar foluain. 

The Irish word for flag is “bratach.”  In the plural (na Bratacha), it can also mean “the Colors,” (regimental, etc.).  You might have noticed that to say “of the flag,” the ending changes to “-aí,” giving us “brataí.”  You might also have noticed that we use “na” in the phrase, not “an” for “(of) the.”  Both of these facts are clues that “bratach” is grammatically feminine.

This may be a bit of a surprise since learners of Irish are often told that “-ach” typically signifies a masculine noun (like Éireannach, Meiriceánach, Ceanadach, Oilimpeach, or oileánach).  And that is true.  There are many such masculine nouns, including virtually all nouns indicating nationality.  However, there is a distinct group of feminine nouns that also end in “-ach” and which have a different set of endings.  Besides “bratach,” we have “scornach” (throat) and “deilgneach” (chicken-pox), to name just a couple more examples that are feminine. 

These two sets of nouns could also be described in terms of the “declension” (noun category) to which they belong.  “Éireannach” is in the first declension; all first-declension nouns are masculine.  “Bratach” is second declension.  Over 99% of the nouns in the second declension are feminine.  There are three other declensions in Irish (third, fourth, fifth) but going into all of them will have to wait for another blog, in fact, probably another series.  If you’ve noticed all the abbreviations like “m1,” “f2,” or “m4,” used in many dictionaries, they tell you the gender (m/f) and declension (1, 2, 3, 4, 5).  That information then tells you what endings the noun takes when it is used in different functions in the sentence.  Except for the exceptions.  But then, the exceptions make the “riail,” don’t they? 

Getting back to “flag,” here are some of the main forms:

an bhratach, the flag (lenition or séimhiú, since it’s feminine singular)

na brataí, of the flag (no lenition, even though feminine, since it’s possessive; possessive ending)

na bratacha, the flags

na mbratach, of the flags (eclipsis or urú, since it’s possessive and plural). 

How does this differ from the masculine nouns ending in “-ach?”  Here’s a masculine example, from the first declension, deliberately picked to begin with the same letter as “bratach,” so the mutations are the same:

an Bostúnach, the Bostonian

an Bhostúnaigh, of the Bostonian

na Bostúnaigh, the Bostonians

na mBostúnach, of the Bostonians   

And by the way, for those of you up on your Irish insults, no snide comments here on anything connected to “bastún” (angl. “bosthoon”), please.  A reasonably polite translation of “bastún” is “lout.”  It has nothing to do with “Bostún,” the city, except a slight resemblance in pronunciation. 

Here are some other flag-related words and phrases:

crann brataí, flagstaff (lit. tree of flag, flag’s tree)

soitheach gan bhratach, flagless vessel

iompróir na brataí, flag-bearer

brateolaí, vexillologist

For a flag referred to as a tricolor, one can say, “bratach trí dhath” or “trídhathach,” or, for a specific reference (as in “The Tricolour”), “an Trídhathach” or “Bratach na dTrí Dhath.”  If one is speaking in Irish, the assumption will probably be that one is referring to “Bratach na hÉireann” (the Flag of Ireland), but, in theory at least, one could be referring to other tricolor flags as well, like those of Russia and India.   

Gluais: a chur ar foluain, to fly (a flag, as opposed to “eitilt,” which pertains to birds, planes, etc.); áit, áiteanna, place(s); ar an 14ú lá, abair “ar an gceathrú lá déag” (the –ú after the number stands for the adjectival ending used in creating most ordinal numbers in Irish; likewise, tríú, cúigiú, srl.), canadh [KAHN-uh, silent “d”], singing; ceiliúrtar, is celebrated; dath [dah, silent “t”], color; eolaí, scientist; searmanas, ceremony

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