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Complete file (PDF)

Oenach indiu luid in rí,

Ar aonach inniu do chuaigh an rí,

Today the king went to a fair,

Oenach Life cona lí,

Ar aonach Life lánáilne,

The fair of Liffey with its splendour.

æbind do cech-oen téit and,

Aoibhinn do gach éinne a théann ann,

Pleasant it is to every one who goes thither,

ni hinund is Guaire dall.

Ní hionann is Guaire dall.

Not so is Guaire the Blind.

Ní Guaire dall gairthea dím

Ní Guaire dall a ghlaoití orm

Not “Guaire the Blind” was I called

lá lodmar fo gairm in ríg

An lá a ndeachamar ar ghairm an rí

On the day we went at the king’s call,

co tech Fiachu fairged gail,

Go teach Fhiacha a dheineadh éacht,

To the house of Fiachu who wrought valour,

cosin ráith os Badammair.

Go dtí an ráth os Badammair.

To the fortress over Badammar.

Oenach Clochair romór Find

Aonach Chlochair, ba mhóide a cháil

(It was) Oenach Clochair that Find greatened,

is fianna Fail is cech dind;

Fionn is na Fianna do theacht ann as gach aird;

And the champions of Ireland on every hilltop.

ramorsat Mumnig din maig

Méadú ar a chlú ag Muimhnigh ón maigh

Munstermen from the plain greatened it,

ocus Fiachu mac Eogain.

Agus ag Fiacha mac Eoghain.

And Fiachu son of Eogan.

Tucait eich na fían rofess

Is eol don saol gur chuaigh eacha na féinne

The champions’ horses were brought, it is known,

is eich Mumnech ’sin morthres,

Is eacha na Muimhneach i gcomórtas lena chéile,

And the Munstermen’s horses, into the great contest.

rofhersat tri graffne glana

Ritheadar trí rás go cóir cothrom

They ran three clear races

for faichthe maic Maireda.

Ar fhaiche mhic Mhaireadha.

On the green of Mairid’s son.

Ech dub re Díl mac Dá-chrech

Bhí each dubh le Díl mac Dá-Chreach

A black horse belonging to Dil son of Two-Raids

bái in cach cluchi rofer,

I ngach rás a ritheadh

Was in every game that he played.

cusin carraic uas Loch Gair

Chomh fada leis an gcarraig os Loch Goir

Unto the rock over Loch Gair

ruc trí lanbuada ind oenaig.

Rug sé trí lánbhua an aonaigh.

He won the three prizes of the meeting.

Cuinchis Fiachu in n-ech iarsain

D’iarr Fiacha an t-each ina dhiaidh sin

Thereafter Fiachu asked the horse

ar in ríg, ara shenathair,

Ar an rí, a sheanathair,

Of the king, of his grandfather:

gellais cét dó do cech crud

Gheall sé céad de gach sórt eallaigh

He promised him a hundred of every (kind of) cattle

dia tabairt i tuarastul.

Do thabhairt dó mar dhíolaíocht.

To be given to him in recompense.

Roráid in drúi and iarsain

Dúirt an draoi ansan,

Then the wizard there uttered

aithesc maith ra mac Eogain:—

Le mac Eoghain — ba mhaith an t-aitheasc é —

A good answer to Eogan’s son:

“ber mo bennacht, ber in n-ech

“Beir leat mo bheannacht, beir leat an t-each

“Take my blessing: take the horse,

ocus tidnaic rit ænech”.

Agus tabhair uait é ar son t’oinigh”.

And bestow it for thy honour’s sake”.

“Ashiút duitsiu int ech dub dían”,

“Seo dhuit an t-each dubh mear”,

“There for thee is the black swift horse”

ar Fiachu ri flaith na fían,

Arsa Fiacha le flaith na bhfiann,

Saith Fiachu to the prince of the champions,

“ashiút mo charpat co mblaid

“Seo dhuit mo charbad cáiliúil

“There is my famous chariot,

is ashiút ech dot araid.

Agus seo each do t’ara.

And there is a horse for thy charioteer.

Asiút claideb is gell cét,

Seo dhuit claíomh ar geall céid é,

There is a sword, the pledge of hundreds,

asiut sciath a tirib Gréc,

Seo dhuit sciath ó thír na Gréige

There is a shield from the lands of Greeks,

asiut sleg co mbricht neme,

Seo dhuit sleá nimhe draíochta,

There is a spear with a spell of venom,

ocus m’idnu airgdide.

Agus m’airm ghaisce go ngile.

And my silvern weapons.

Asiút tri coin, cæm a ndath,

Seo dhuit trí coin, is álainn a ndath:

There for thee are three hounds — fair their colour —

Feirne is Derchæm is Dualath,

Feirne is Derchaomh is Dualath,

Feirne and Derchaem and Dualath,

cona muincib óir buidi

Mar aon lena gcoiléir óir bhuí

With their collars of yellow gold,

co slabradaib findruini.

Lena slabhraíbh fiondruine.

With their chains of white bronze.

Mad ferr duit na beith cen ní,

Bé gur fearrde thú, ná bheith gan aon ní,

If thou preferrest to have somewhat

a maic Cumaill, a ardrí,

A mhic Cumhaill, a ardrí,

O son of Cumall, O overking,

na digis can ascid ass,

Ná go n-imeofá gan aisce,

Thou wilt not go hence without a gift,

a fhlaith na fían firamnas!”

A fhlaith na bhfiann bhfíorchróga!”

O prince of the fierce champions!”

Atraacht Find suas arsain:

D’éirigh Fionn suas ansan:

Then Find rose up:

buidech é do mac Eogain:

Ba bhuíoch é do mhac Eoghain;

Thankful was he to Eogan’s son:

bendachais cach da cheli:

Bheannaigh cách dá chéile;

Each blessed the other:

ba curata a coméirge.

Ba churata a n-éirí in aonacht.

Gallant was their rising together.

IArsain luid Find roínn ar sét

Ansan ghluais Fionn romhainn fan na slí

Thereafter Find went forward

lodsam leis tri fichit cét

Ghluais sé mhíle againn leis

We went with him, three score hundred,

co Cachér, co Clúain da loch

Go Caichéar, go Cluain dá Loch

Unto Cachér, to Cluain-dá-loch,

lodsam uile assinn oenoch.

Do chuamar uile ón aonach.

We all went from the meeting.

O.

Trí lá is tri aidche ba leith

Trí lá is trí oíche, i mbun fléa is féasta,

During three days and three nights — it was a festival —

bámmar uile i tig Cachir,

A bhíomar uile i dtigh Chaichéir,

We all abode in Cachér’s house,

cen esbaid lenna na bíd

Gan easpa leanna ná bídh

Without lack of ale or food

ar na sluagaib ’mán ardrig.

Ar na sluaitibh um an ardrí.

For the hosts together with their overking.

Coica falach tucad dó,

Caoga fáinne tugadh dó,

Fifty rings were given him,

cóica ech is cóica bó,

Caoga each is caoga bó

Fifty horses and fifty cows:

dorat Find fiach a lenna

Do thug Fionn i bhfiacha a leanna

Find gave the price of his ale

do Chachiur mac Caireila.

Do Chaichéar mac Cairealla.

To Cachér son of Cairill.

Luid Find for Luachair iarsain

Ghluais Fionn thar Shliabh Luachra ansin

Then Find went over Luachair

cosin traig ac Berramain:

Go dtí an tráigh ag Bearramhain:

To the strand at Berramain.

anais Find co fiannaib Fáil

D’fhan Fionn le fiannaibh Fáil

Find rested with Ireland’s champions

os or in locha lindbáin.

Os bruach an locha linnbháin.

Over the bank of the fair-watered lake.

Luid Find d’imlúad a eich duib

D’fhonn triail a bhaint as a each dubh

Find went to gallop his black horse

forsin tráig oc Berramuin,

Ghluais Fionn fan na trá ag Bearramhain,

On the strand at Berraman.

misse ocus Cailte tri báis

Mise agus Caoilte le teann baoise

I and Cailte through wantonness

raithmít ris ra bothogáis.

Rithimid leis ar mhaithe le cleasaíocht.

We raced against him, it was deception.

IMmar atchondairc in rí,

Nuair a chonaic an rí é sin,

As the king saw (us)

búalid a ech co Tráig Lí,

Stiúraíonn a each go Tráigh Lí,

He smites his horse to Tralee,

o Tráig Lí co lLeirgg Daim Glaiss,

Ó Thráigh Lí go Leirg Daimh Glais,

From Tralee to Lerg Daim glais,

dar Fræchmag is dar Findnais.

Thar Fraochmhaigh is thar Fionnais.

Over Heatherfield and over Findnais.

Dar Mag da Éo, dar Móin Cend,

Thar Maigh dá Eo, thar Móin Ceann,

Over Moy-da-eó, over Móin-Cend

co Sen-ibar, dar Sen-glend,

Go Seaniubhar, thar Seanghleann,

Unto Old-yew, over Old-glen,

co hInber Flesci finni,

Go hinbhear Fleisce finne

To the estuary of fair Flesc,

co colomnaib Crohinni.

Go colúnaibh Chró-inne.

To the pillars of Crofinn.

Dar Sruth Muinne, dar Moin Cét,

Thar Sruth Muinne, thar Móin Céad,

Over Sruth-Muinne, over Móin-Cet,

dar Inber Lemna, ní bréc,

Thar Inbhear Leamhna, ní bréag,

Over the estuary of Lemain, no falsehood,

otá Lemain co Loch Léin,

Ó Leamhain go Loch Léin,

From Lemain to Loch Léin,

etir réid ocus amréid.

Idir réidh agus aimhréidh.

Both smooth and unsmooth.

Cid sinni nirsar malla,

Sinne níor mhall,

As to us, we were not slow:

ropsat lúatha ar lémmenna,

Ba luath ár léim,

Swift were our leaps,

fer úan da chlí, fer da deis,

Fear againn ar a láimh chlé, an fear eile ar dheis,

One of us on his left, one on his right,

ni fhil fiad ama bermís.

Níl fia nach mbéarfaimis air.

There is no deer that we would not overtake.

Lam ri Fleisc sech Fhid in Chairn,

Lámh le Fleisc thar Fiodh an Chairn,

One hand towards Flesc, past the Wood of the Cairn,

sech Mungairit meic Scáil Bailb,

Thar Mungairit mic Scáil Bhailbh,

Past Mungairit of the son of the Stammering Champion,

nocho ragaib Find ra ech

Níor chuir Fionn srian lena each

Find did not rein in his horse

cosin cnocc diarb ainm Bairnech.

Gur shroich an cnoc darb ainm Bairneach.

Till (he came) to the hillock named Bairnech.

Mar rochuammar ’sin cnocc

Nuair a chuamar insan gcnoc

As we reached the hillock

sinni ba toisciu ’cá thocht,

Sinne a bhí chun tosaigh,

It is we that were first at coming to it:

cid sinni ba taisciu and

Más sinne ba thúisce ann

Though we were foremost there

ech in ríg nirbo romall.

Níorbh é each an rí ba rómhall.

The king’s horse was not very slow.

“Adaig-seo dered din ló”,

“Seo oíche agus deireadh lae”,

“Night (is) this, end of the day”,

ar Find féin, ní himmargó:

Arsa Fionn féin, gan bhréag:

Saith Find himself, no error,

“triar tancammar ille

“Triúr againn a tháinig i leith

“We three have come hither:

tæit róinn d’iarraid fhianbothe”.

Téiríg romhainn ag lorg botháin féinne”.

Go forward to seek a huntinglodge”.

D’éccain radéch úad in rí

Féachaint uaidh dar thug an rí

To look the king looked forth

forsin carraic da láim chlí,

Ar an gcarraig ar a láimh chlé,

At the rock on his left hand,

co facca in tech cona thein

Chonaic teach agus tine ann

Till he saw the house with its fire

issin glind arar mbélaib.

Sa ghleann romhainn amach.

In the glen before us.

Atrubairt Find flaith na fían:

Adúirt Fionn flaith na bhfiann:

Said Find, the prince of the champions:

“assiut tech nach fhacca riam:

“Sin teach nach bhfeaca riamh:

“There is a house I never saw before:

a Chailti, ni chuala thech

A Chaoilte, níor chuala riamh teach

O Chailte, I never heard of a house

isin glind-sea cid am eolach”.

A bheith sa ghleann so, cé táim feasach”.

In this glen, though I am knowing”.

“IS ferr dúin dula dia fhiss

“Is fearr dúinn dul dá fhios,

“We had better go and find out:

atá mór neich ’narn anfis:

Is mó rud a bhfuilimid ina n-ainbhfios:

There are many things we do not know:

is firt féli, is ferr cach ní,

Seo fearadh féile, is fearr ná gach ní,

It is a marvel of hospitality, it is better than everything,

a maic Cumaill, a airdrí!”

A mhic Cumhaill, a ardrí!”

O son of Cumall, O overking!”

Dochuammar ar triar ’sin tech,

Do chuamar triúr isteach —

We three went on to the house,

terus aidche rab aithrech,

Turas oíche dúinn dob aithreach,

A night’s journey that was lamentable,

dia fríth gol is gréch is gáir,

Óna bhfríth gol, gréach is gáir,

When wailing was found, and scream and cry,

is munter díscir dígair.

Is muintir díscir diabhlaí.

And a household fierce, vehement.

Aithech líath fora lár thair

Aitheach liath ar an urlár thoir

A grey giant in front on its floor

gebid ar n-eich co-escaid,

Beireann ar ár n-each go héasca,

Seizes our horses swiftly,

dúnaid comlaid a thaige

Dúnann comhla a thí

Fastens the door of the house

de baccanaib íarnaide.

Ar bhacánaibh iarnaí.

With iron hooks.

“IS mochen, a Fhind co mblaid”

“Mochean do theacht, a Fhinn mhórchlú”,

“My welcome, O famous Find”,

ar int aithech co harnaid:

A dúirt an t-aitheach go cruaidh:

Saith the giant cruelly:

“fota co tanac ille,

“Fada nár thánaís i leith,

“(It is) long till thou camest hither,

a maic Cumaill Almaine!”

A mhic Cumhaill Almhaine!”

O son of Cumall of Almain!”

Suidmít ar in cholbu chrúaid,

Suímid ar an mbinse cruaidh,

We sit on the hard bedrail:

doní ar n-ósaic ri óenuair,

Deineann sé freastal orainn ar feadh aon uaire,

He tends us for one hour:

láid connud truimm fora thein,

Caitheann gabháil troim ar an tine,

He flings firewood of elder on his fire:

súail naron-much don dethaig.

Beag nár mhúch sé sinn leis an deatach.

It almost smothered us with the smoke.

Bái callech isin taig mór,

Bhí cailleach sa tigh mór,

A hag abode in the great house

tri cind for a cælmuneol,

Trí cinn ar a caolmhuineál

With three heads on her thin neck:

fer can chend ’sin leith aile,

Fear gan cheann ar an taobh eile,

A headless man on the other side,

oenshúil asa ucht-saide.

Agus aon tsúil ina ucht siúd.

With one eye (protruding) from his breast.

“Denaid airfitiud don ríg!”

“Deiníg oirfide don rí!”

“Make music for the king!”

ar int athrech cen imshním,

Arsa an t-aithech gan imní,

Saith the giant without sorrow.

“érgid, a lucht atá istig,

“Éiríg, a dhream atá istigh

“Arise, folk that are within,

canaid ceol don rigfhennid!”

Canaíg ceol don rífhéinní!”

Sing ye a strain for the kingly champion!”

Ergit nói colla assin chúil,

Éiríonn naoi gcolainn as an gcúil,

Nine bodies arise out of the recess

assin leith ba nessu dúin,

Insan taobh ba neasa dhúinn,

From the side nearest us,

is nói cind issin leith aile

Agus naoi gcinn insan taobh eile

And nine heads on the other side

forsin cholbo iarnaide.

Ar an mbinse iarnaí.

On the iron bed-rail.

Tócbait nói ngrécha garba,

Tógaid naoi ngréach garbh,

They raise nine harsh shrieks:

nir chuibde ciar chomlabra:

Níor bhinn le clos a nglór le chéile:

They were discordant though uttered together:

frecraid in challech fó sech,

Freagraíonn an chaillech gach gréach fá seach,

The hag replies separately,

ocus frecraid in méidech.

Agus freagraíonn an corp gan cheann.

And the (headless) trunk answers.

Ciarbo rogarb céol cach fhir

Cé gur rógharbh ceol gach fir

Though passing harsh the strain of every one.

ba gairbe céol in médig;

Ba ghairbhe ceol an choirp gan cheann;

Harsher was the strain of the trunk:

ca céol díb narbo dúla

Ach b’fhearr leat aon cheol acu

What strain of them was not desirable

acht céol fhir na oenshúla?

Ná an ceol a dhein fear na haon súile.

Save the strain of the one-eyed man?

IN ceol sain rocanad dúin

An ceol san a canadh dúinn

That strain which was sung to us

dodúsechad marbu a húir;

Dhúiseodh sé na mairbh a húir;

Would waken the dead out of mould:

súail na robriss cnáma ar cind,

Is beag nár scoilt sé cnámha ár gcinn,

It almost broke the bones of our heads:

nírbe in cocetul ceolbind.

Níorbh aon chlaisceadal ceolbhinn é.

The concert was not melodious.

Gebid int aithech úain sair,

Gabhann an t-aitheach uainn soir,

The giant gets him from us in front,

tócbaid fair in túaig connaid,

Tarraingíonn chuige an tua,

Lifts on him the fire-wood-axe,

bualaid co hathlam ar n-ech,

Buaileann go tapaidh ár n-each,

Deftly smites our horses,

fennaid, coscraid can fhuirech.

Feannann agus spólann é gan fuireach.

Flays, destroys without delaying.

“Bí tost, a Cháilti mar tái!”

“Fan id thost, a Chaoilte, mar ataoi!”

“Be silent, O Chailte, as thou art!”

ar Find fein cen immargái,

Arsa Fionn féin gan ghó,

Saith Find himself without falsehood.

“maith lind dia ndama duin féin,

“Beidh go maith, má ligeann sé linn féin —

“Well for us if he grant (life) to us,

damsa ocus duitsiu is d’Ossín”.

Liomsa agus leatsa agus le hOisín”.

To me and thee and Ossín”.

Coica bera ara mbái rind

Caoga bior agus rinn orthu —

Fifty spits whereon were points

tuc leis do beraib cáirthind,

Beara caorthainn a thug sé leis —

He brought with him of spits of rowan:

tuc ága ar cach mbir fo sech

Chuir spóla ar gach bior díobh

He put a joint on each spit separately,

is rachoraig fon tellach.

Is chóirigh iad ar an teallach.

And arranged them by the hearth.

Nochor’bruthi bir díb sein

Ní raibh aon cheann acu bruite

Of those not a spit was cooked

in tráth tucait ón tenid,

Tráth ar tugadh iad ón tine,

When they were taken from the fire.

tuc leis i fiadnaisi Find

Thug sé i láthair Fhinn

He brought with him before Find

féoil om ar beraib ca[e]rthind.

Feoil amh ar bhearaibh chaorthainn.

Raw flesh on spits of rowan.

“Beir lett, a athig, do bíad,

“Beir leat uaim, a aithigh, do bhia,

“Take away thy food, O giant,

uair ní dúadus biad om riam:

Mar níor itheas bia amh riamh:

For I have never devoured raw food.

ni chathiub ondiu co bráth

Ní chaithfead a leithéid go brách

I will never eat (it) from today till Doom

arái beith can bíad oentráth”.

De dheasca bheith tráth gan bhia”.

Because of being foodless for one watch”.

“Mas aire thanac ’nar tech

“Más chuige sin a thánaís go dtínár dteach

“If thou hast come into our house”,

d’obba ar mbíd”, ar int athech,

Chun ár mbia d’obadh”, arsa an t-aitheach,

Saith the giant, “to refuse our food,

“is derb doraga[m] rib féin,

“Is dearbh go n-ionsóm sibh féin,

It is certain that we shall go against yourselves,

A Chailti, a Fhind, a Ossín!”

A Chaoilte, a Fhinn, a Oisín!”

O Cáilte, O Find, O Ossín!”

IArsein roergemmar súas,

Leis sin, d’éiríomar suas,

After that we rose up:

gabmait ar claidbe co crúas,

Gabhaimid chugainn ár gclaímhte go cróga,

We seize our swords hardily:

gebid cach cend araile,

Beireann cách ar cheann a chéile chomhraic,

Each grasps another’s head:

ropo mana dorngaile.

Luíomar ar dhornaíl.

It was an occasion of fighting hand to hand.

Muchthair in tene bái thís,

Múchtar an tine a bhí thíos,

The fire that lay below is quenched:

nar’ léir a lassar no grís,

Níor léir lasair ná gríos,

Its flame or embers was not clear:

timmaircther cúl dorcha dub

Tiomáintear isteach i gcúinne dorcha dubh

We are driven into a dark black nook,

orn ar triúr i n-oeninud.

An triúr againn in aon ionad amháin.

We three in one place.

INuair dobímmis cind ar chind

Agus sinn ag troid in aghaidh a chéile

When we were head to head

cia nar cobrad acht mád Find,

Ní raibh cabhair le fáil ach ó Fhionn,

And there was no help save Find,

ropsar marba, mór in mod,

Bhíomar marbh, ba mhór an gníomh é,

We had been dead, great the deed,

meni beth Find a oenor.

Murach Fionn amháin.

Had it not been for Find alone.

Bammar cind ar chind istaig

Bhíomar i ngleic a chéile sa tigh

We were head to head within

fat na haidche co matain,

Feadh na hoíche go maidin,

All through the night till morning,

co roshollsig grian in tech

Gur shoilsigh grian ar an teach

Till the sun lighted up the house

im thrath eirgi arna barach.

Tráth eirí lá arna mhárach.

At the time of rising on the morrow.

INnuair doérig in grían

Nuair d’éirigh an ghrian

When the sun rose

tuittid cach fer sair is [s]íar

Titeann gach fear soir is siar

Each man falls hither and thither:

tuittid nél i cend cach fhir

Titeann néall ar gach fear

A mist falls into every one’s head

co mbái marb arin lathir.

Go rabhadar marbh ar an láthair.

So that he was dead on the spot.

Garit robammar ’nar tám,

Ba ghairid orainn an táimh-néal

For a short time we lay in our rest:

ergimmít súas, is sind slán:

Éirímid suas agus sinn slán;

We rise up, and we (are) whole;

celtair orn in tech iar sain,

Ceiltear orainn an teach ansan,

There the house is hidden from us:

celtair cech nech din muntir.

Ceiltear gach neach de mhuintir an tí.

Every one of the household is hidden.

Is amlaid atracht Find Fáil,

Is amhlaidh a d’éirigh Fionn Fáil

Thus arose Find of Inisfáil,

ocus a ech féin ’na láim,

Agus greim aige ar a each lena láimh,

With his own horse in his hand:

slán uile etir chend iss choiss

Bhí go huile slán idir cheann is chois

Whole were (we) all, both head and foot:

bái cach anim ’na écmais.

Gan ainimh gan éalang.

Every blemish was absent.

Lodsam co scíth anfand ass,

Ghluaiseamar linn go tuirseach fann,

We fared thence wearily, feebly;

tucsam aichne arar n-eolass,

Bhí aithne agus eolas na slí againn,

We took our bearings and saw which way we had to go:

lodmar ciarbo chían iarsain

Ghluaiseamar, cé gurbh fhada ár n-aistear,

We fared, though it was long thereafter,

cosin traig ic Berramain.

Go dtí an tráigh ag Bearramhain.

To the strand by Berraman.

Roiarfaiged dín scela,

Iarradh orainn scéala,

They asked of us tidings:

ní bái dúin dluig a shéna:

Níorbh fhéidir a shéanadh,

We had no wish to deny it:

“fuarammar”, ar Find, “diar fecht

“Fuaireamar”, arsa Fionn, “ónár dturas

“We found”, saith Find, “on our way

imned ar ar n-óigidecht”.

Imní de bharr ár n-aíochta”.

Tribulation for our billeting”.

ISiat sin dorala rind,

Is iad do tharla romhainn ná

Those are they that came against us,

na tri fuatha a hIbarglind,

Na trí ainspioraid a hIubharghleann,

The three Shapes out of Yew-glen,

do digail fhoirn a sethar,

D’imir díoltas orainn mar gheall ar a siúr,

To take vengeance on us for their sister

diarb’ aínm Cullend cræslethan.

Darbh ainm Cuilleann Chraosleathan.

Whose name was Cullenn Wide-maw.

Lodsamar ar cuaird selgga

Ghluaiseamar ar cuairt seilge

We went on a hunting round

morthimchell insi Elgga,

Mórthimpeall Inis Ealga,

All about the isle of Elga:

sirmís mór sliab is mór mag,

Chuardaímis mórán sléibhte agus maighe,

We searched many mountains and many plains,

mór n-amreid is mór n-oenach.

Mórán ceantar aimhréidh is mórán aonach.

Many rough places and many fairs.

Oenach.

Aonach.