Main content

18/09/2017

Tha Ruairaidh MacIlleathain air ais le Litir Bheag na seachdain 'sa.

Available now

4 minutes

Last on

Mon 18 Sep 2017 19:00

Clip

An Litir Bheag 645

Bha mi a’ bruidhinn mu Iain Lom. Tha bàrd ainmeil eile air a thiodhlacadh anns an dearbh chladh – Cille Choirill. B’ esan Dòmhnall mac Fhionnla’ nan Dàn. ʼS e a sgrìobh ‘Òran na Comhachaig’ aig deireadh an t-siathamh linn deug.

Dh’ainmich mi Iain Beag Dòmhnallach aig an robh beul-aithris mu Iain Lom. Bha beul-aithris aige mu Dhòmhnall cuideachd. Seo dhuibh dà naidheachd aige mu Dhòmhnall.

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý Bha Dòmhnall sgileil leis a’ bhogha is saighead. Ghabh e cuairt a dh’Earra-Ghàidheal. A bharrachd air a bhith na bhàrd, bha e na shealgair. Chunnaic e damh-fèidh brèagha.

Mharbh e am beathach le saighead. Dh’inns muinntir an àite don cheann-chinnidh aca gu dè bh’ air tachairt. Duine sam bith a mharbhadh fiadh an uair sin ’s e a’ chroich a bha a’ feitheamh ris. Ach chaidh innseadh don cheann-cinnidh gun do rinn Dòmhnall urchair iongantach leis an t-saighead.

‘Uill,’ thuirt an ceann-cinnidh, ‘bidh e math nam chuideachd.’

Thugadh Dòmhnall air beulaibh a’ chinn-chinnidh. ‘Chuala mi,’ thuirt am bodach, ‘gun do mharbh thu fiadh. Ach gheibh thu maitheanas ma dh’fhanas tu air an talamh agam fhìn.’

‘Fanaidh,’ dh’aontaich Dòmhnall.

Dh’fhuirich e ann dreis. Ach dh’fhàs e sgìth dheth. Thuirt e ris a’ cheann-chinnidh gun robh e a’ falbh.’

‘Tha mi glè dhuilich,’ thuirt an ceann-cinnidh. ‘Bheir mi dhut an còrr talamh.’

‘B’ fheàrr aon sgrìob taobh Loch Trèig na na bheil agad uile,’ arsa Dòmhnall. Chaidh Dòmhnall a dh’fhuireach taobh Loch Trèig.

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý Latha a bha seo, bha e air a’ Bheinn Bhric anns a’ Choire Odhar. Bha a’ bhana-bhuidseach, Cailleach na Beinne Brice, a’ fuireach ann cuide ri a h-aighean. Bhiodh i a’ bleoghann nan aighean. Bha agh shònraichte aice ris an abradh iad ‘an agh bhàn’. Thàinig Dòmhnall.

‘Dè tha a dhìth ort?’ dh’fhaighnich i.

‘An tè bhan,’ thuirt Dòmhnall.

‘Chan fhaigh thu i,’ ars ise.

‘Gheibh,’ thuirt esan.

‘Chan fhaigh,’ ars ise. ‘Fàg an tè bhàn,’ thuirt i, ‘is bheir mi dhut guidhe sam bith.’

‘An toir thu an t-sròn de na h-aighean?’ thuirt e.

‘Bheir,’ thuirt a’ Chailleach.

Agus thathar ag ràdh nach d’fhuair agh riamh on latha sin gaoth air Dòmhnall MacFhionnla’, an sealgair.

The Little Letter 645

I was speaking about Iain Lom. There is another famous poet buried in the same cemetery – Cille Choirill. He was Dòmhnall mac Fhionnla’ nan Dàn. It’s him that wrote ‘the song of the owl’ at the end of the sixteenth century.

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý I named Iain Beag MacDonald who had oral tradition about Iain Lom. He also had oral tradition about Donald. Here are two of his anecdotes about Donald.

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý Donald was skilful with the bow and arrow. He took a trip to Argyll. In addition to being a poet, he was a hunter. He saw a beautiful stag.

Ìý

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý He killed the animal with an arrow. The local people told the clan chief what had happened. Anyone who killed a deer then, it’s the gibbet that awaited him. But the clan chief was told that Donald made an incredible shot with the arrow.

Ìý

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý ‘Well,’ said the clan chief, ‘he’ll be good in my company.

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý Donald was taken in front of the clan chief. ‘I’ve heard,’ said the old man, ‘that you killed a deer. But you’ll be forgiven if you remain on my land.’

Ìý

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý ‘I’ll stay,’ agreed Donald.

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý He stayed for a while. But he tired of it. He said to the clan chief that he was leaving.

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý ‘I’m very sorry,’ said the clan chief. ‘I’ll give you more land.’

Ìý

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý Ìý‘I’d prefer one strip on the side of Loch Treig than all you possess,’ said Donald. Donald went to live beside Loch Treig.

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý One day he was on the speckled mountain in the dun corrie. The witch, the hag of the speckled mountain, was living there with her hinds. She would milk the hinds. She had a special hind they called ‘the fair hind’. Donald came.

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý ‘What do you want?’ she asked.

Ìý

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý ‘The fair one,’ said Donald.

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý ‘You’ll not get her,’ said she.

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý ‘Yes, I shall,’ said he.

Ìý ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý‘No you won’t,’ said she. ‘Leave the fair one,’ she said, ‘and I’ll give you any wish.’

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý ‘Will you take the nose(s) off the hinds?’ he said.

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý ‘Yes,’ said the Cailleach.

ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý And it’s said that a hind from that day on never got wind of Donald son of Finlay, the hunter.

Broadcast

  • Mon 18 Sep 2017 19:00

All the letters

Tha gach Litir Bheag an seo / All the Little Letters are here.

Podcast: An Litir Bheag

The Little Letter for Gaelic Learners

An Litir Bheag air LearnGaelic

An Litir Bheag is also on LearnGaelic (with PDFs)

Podcast