#Dealbh

[backgrounds-for-ads]

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[milflewis]

i am writing this in english. it is the most brutal language i know. sometimes it feels like all you understand is violence. i’m so fucking angry i can hardly breathe. there is a balloon in my chest and it is full of spikes and wants to pop. i am trying to unlearn our grandparents ways. i am trying not to be our parents. why can’t you? how fucking dare you?

tá mé ag scríobh seo as béarla. is é béarla an teanga is brúidiúla atá ar eolas agam. uaireanta mothaíonn sé cosúil le gach a dtuigeann tú go bhfuil foréigean. tá mé chomh feargach is ar éigean is féidir liom análú. tá balún i mo bhrollach agus tá sé lán de pointí agus ba mhaith leis pléascadh. táim ag iarraidh bealaí mo sheantuismitheoirí a fhoghlaim. tá mé ag iarraidh gan a bheith i mo thuismitheoirí. cén fáth nach bhfuil tú? conas a d'fhéadfá? conas fucking tú?

this is not a ‘race issue’. this is not an ‘immigration issue’. this is not a oh all those foreigners are going to come here and huff and puff and blow down our homes and kill our children and set our streets on fire. we — you me us — are doing that ourselves. it was white irish people who saw a tragedy happen and didn’t think how can we help or what can we do to prevent this or how can we be better. it was white irish people who saw a tragedy happen and thought yeah what this pain and grief needs is rioting and looting and destruction. it was white irish people who saw a tragedy happen and used that as an excuse to hurt everyone else. are you not fucking embarrassed that you saw children being killed on the street and your response was to set fire to a statue to steal a pair of runners from jd sports. are you not on your fucking knees

ní ‘ceist cine’ í seo. ní ‘ceist inimirce’ é seo. ní hamhlaidh atá na gaill sin go léir le teacht anseo agus crónán is puff agus séideadh síos ár dtithe agus ár bpáistí a mharú agus ár sráideanna a chur trí thine. táimid — tusa mise — atá á dhéanamh sin againn féin. éireannaigh gheala a chonaic tragóid ag tarlú agus níor smaoinigh siad conas is féidir linn cabhrú nó cad is féidir linn a dhéanamh chun é seo a chosc nó conas is féidir linn a bheith níos fearr. éireannaigh gheala a bhí ann a chonaic tragóid ag tarlú agus a cheap go bhfuil gá leis an bpian agus leis an mbrón seo ná círéibeach agus spíonadh agus scrios. éireannaigh gheala a bhí ann a chonaic tragóid ag tarlú agus d’úsáid siad é sin mar leithscéal chun gach duine eile a ghortú. nach bhfuil náire ort go bhfaca tú leanaí á marú ar an tsráid agus gurb é an freagra a bhí agat ná dealbh a chur trí thine chun péire reathaithe a ghoid ó jd sports. nach bhfuil tú ar do ghlúine

fuck. you. it’s not muslims or immigrants that you fear so much that are destroying our cites. nor the travellers nor protestants nor god forbid the fucking english. it is the white and the irish and the shameful

nár chuire dia ar do leas thú. ní hiad na moslamaigh ná na hinimircigh a bhfuil an oiread sin eagla oraibh atá ag déanamh scrios ar ár gcúirteanna. ná taistealaithe nó lucht agóide nó dia cosc ​​ar an mbéarla. tá sé bán agus ná héireannach agus an náireach

[jimharrisart]

James Wallace Harris: Outpost at Stoke by Nayland. Acrylic marker on paper 13.85" x 9.88" June 21, 2024. https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Drawing-Outpost-at-Stoke-by-Nayland/292357/11843881/view #artist #art #artwork #artcollector #drawing #dessin #futurism #futurismo #architecture #aerospace #industrial #kunst #zeichnungen #piirustus #그림 #dealbh #tegning

[scotianostra]

21st May 1872 saw the death in Bunessan on Mull of the Gaelic poet Mary MacDonald.

Mary is a  little-known Gaelic poet who wrote a classic!

The first thing to say is that Mary Macdougal Macdonald should not be confused with another Mary, who was born a MacDonald and became a MacPherson. That was Màiri Mhòr nan Òran or Great Mary of the Songs

Mairi Dhughallach was born at Brolas near Ardtun on Mull in 1789, though her exact birthdate was not known. Nor is there any Church of Scotland record of her birth and christening, for Mary was born into a Baptist family and she followed that faith devoutly all her life.

Her father was Duncan Macdougal, who was both a farmer and a Baptist preacher. The family all spoke Gaelic and Mary never spoke any more than a smattering of English. Instead, like other family members, she learned Gaelic poems, songs and hymns.

Mary married a crofter, Neil Macdonald, and moved to his croft at Ardtun – not far from Bunessan, the largest village on the Ross of Mull. I was unable to find any trace of children but it was remembered locally many years later that she sang while spinning, and at some point she began to write poems and compose hymns for use by her fellow Baptists.

Perhaps because she performed her works from memory, very little of her output survives, though she did once compose a satirical poem on tobacco to chastise her husband for his smoking.

Maddeningly we do not know when she composed her most famous work or the circumstances which brought it about. We do know that she wrote the hymn Leanabh an àigh and set it to a local tune. It was a beautiful lilting tune which some say was brought to Mull by a travelling Gaelic musician, and Mary’s Gaelic words were perfectly set to that tune.

The hymn appears to have been popular within the Baptist community but the hymn might never have been sung outside of the Gàidhealtachd had it not been for Lachlan Macbean (1853-1931) who was a Gaelic scholar and a journalist who for some time edited the Kirkcaldy-based Fifeshire Advertiser.

Macbean made it his task to gather Gaelic hymns and also published at least two books on learning Gaelic. The most successful were his Elementary Lessons in Gaelic (1889) and a Guide to Gaelic Conversation and Pronunciation (1895). He also published two collections of Gaelic hymns, The Sacred Songs of the Gael (1886) and Songs and Hymns of the Scottish Highlands (1888). Mary Macdonald’s hymn, published 16 years after her death, was in the latter book and though it was not precise, Macbean gave us a beautiful translation, a hymn that is sung to this day.

Here is the Gaelic version of Leanabh an àigh, child of wonder.

Leanabh àigh, an Leanabh aig Màiri

Rugadh san stàball, Rìgh nan Dùl;

Thàinig do’n fhàsach, dh’fhuiling ’n ar n-àite

Son’ iad an àireamh bhitheas dhà dlùth!

Ged a bhios leanabain aig rìghrean na talmhainn

An greadhnachas garbh is anabarr mùirn,

’S geàrr gus am falbh iad, ’s fasaidh iad anfhann,

An àilleachd ’s an dealbh a’ searg san ùir.

Cha b’ionann ’s an t-Uan thàinig gur fuasgladh

Iriosal, stuama ghluais e’n tùs;

E naomh gun truailleachd, Cruithfhear an t-sluaigh,

Dh’éirich e suas le buaidh o ùir.

Leanabh an àigh, mar dh’aithris na fàidhean;

’S na h-àinglean àrd’, b’e miann an sùl;

’S E ’s airidh air gràdh ’s air urram thoirt dhà

Sona an àireamh bhitheas dhà dlùth.

Here’s the three verses Macbean left us:

Child in the manger, infant of Mary,

Outcast and stranger, Lord of all,

Child who inherits all our transgressions,

All our demerits on Him fall.

Once the most holy Child of salvation

Gently and lowly lived below.

Now as our glorious mighty Redeemer,

See Him victorious o’er each foe.

Prophets foretold Him, infant of wonder;

Angels behold Him on His throne.

Worthy our Saviour of all our praises;

Happy forever are His own.

Macbean also gave the hymn’s tune a name – Bunessan after the settlement close to Macdonald’s home, and within a few years it had become a popular Christmas carol.

After Mary’s passing on May 21, 1872, the co-author of the 1926 English hymn book Songs of Praise noted that Child in the Manger to the tune Bunessan had been include in the Revised Church Hymnary. Percy Dearmer loved Bunessan and for the second edition of Songs of Praise published in 1931, he asked English writer Eleanor Farjeon “to make a poem to fit the lovely Scottish tune”.

Farjeon duly delivered her work, and Morning Has Broken has delighted children and adults ever since. In 1972, the singer Cat Stevens, now Yusuf Islam released his version as a single. Morning Has Broken duly became a worldwide hit and subsequent cover versions have been produced by the likes of Neil Diamond, Nana Mouskouri and Daniel O’Donnell, though whether they knew it was a folk tune from Mull and originated as Mary’s hymn is unlikely.

Mary Macdonald is commemorated by an obelisk near where she lived on the A849 road on Mull. The monument describes her as a “poetess” who was “born Brolas 1789” and who “died Ardtun 1872”. Below that inscription are the first lines of Leanabh an àigh, translated as “Child in the manger, infant of Mary”.

The video has the words in Gaelic with English below them.

[saoghal-nan-saoghal]

Dealbh de Mhoire Màthair le Ìosa na leanabh, a rinneadh le Grace Plunkett, neé Gifford, agus i na prìosanach ann an Cill Mhaineam mar thoradh air a beachdan poblachdach

[orgulloalicante]

(ES-ES) Todas las fotografías son (C) Quino Andréu, Benidorm, 2024. Pueden usarlas sólo las personas que salgan en ellas con permiso de todos los que aparecen. Si alguien desea desaparecer puede escribir a tequiero@Quino.org o. Si alguien que aparece en las fotográfias quiere una versión de máxima calidad puede escribir a tequiero@Quino.org. Se han censurado las fotografías de los 2 partidos políticos excluyentes y fascistas de la manifestación por herir sensibilidades de Demócratas con su hipocresia, doble moral y violación de Derechos Humanos.

(EN-UK) All photographs are Copyright by Quino Andréu, Benidorm, 2024. Only the people who appear in them can use them with permission from everyone who appears. If someone wants to disappear, they can write to hi@Quino.org or. If anyone who appears in the photographs wants a maximum quality version, they can write to hi@Quino.org. The photographs of the two exclusive and fascist political parties of the demonstration have been censored for hurting the sensibilities of Democrats with their hypocrisy, double standards and violation of Human.

(GA-IE) Is iad na grianghraif go léir (C) Quino Andréu, Benidorm, 2024. Ní féidir ach na daoine atá le feiceáil iontu iad a úsáid le cead ó gach duine atá le feiceáil. Más mian le duine imeacht, is féidir leo scríobh chuig hi@Quino.org nó. Má tá leagan d’uaschaighdeán ag teastáil ó aon duine atá le feiceáil sna grianghraif, is féidir leo scríobh chuig hi@Quino.org. Rinneadh cinsireacht ar ghrianghraif an dá pháirtí polaitíochta eisiacha agus faisisteach den léirsiú as ucht íogaireacht na nDaonlathaithe a ghortú lena hypocrisy, caighdeáin dúbailte agus sárú ar Chearta an Duine.

(GA-SCOT) Tha a h-uile dealbh (C) Quino Andréu, Benidorm, 2024. Chan fhaod ach na daoine a nochdas annta an cleachdadh le cead bhon a h-uile duine a nochdas. Ma tha cuideigin airson a dhol à sealladh, faodaidh iad sgrìobhadh gu hi@Quino.org no. Ma tha duine sam bith a nochdas anns na dealbhan ag iarraidh dreach den chàileachd as àirde, faodaidh iad sgrìobhadh gu hi@Quino.org. Chaidh dealbhan den dà phàrtaidh poilitigeach faisisteach agus faisisteach den taisbeanadh a chaisgireachd airson a bhith a’ goirteachadh mothachaidhean nan Deamocratach leis an t-siorruidheachd, inbhean dùbailte agus briseadh chòraichean daonna

[aztralsea]

This is part of the reason I love learning Gàidhlig, so many of the words fit way better than English.

Nice is nice, but in Gàidhlig it's snog

Big is mòr, picture is Dealbh, make is Deanamaid. It's all so perfect.

i love when words fit right. seize was always supposed to be that word, and so was jester. tuesday isn't quite right but thursday should be thursday, that's a good word for it. daisy has the perfect shape to it, almost like you're laughing when you say it; and tulip is correct most of the time. while keynote is fun to say, it's super wrong - i think they have to change the label for that one. but fox is spot-on.

most words are just, like, good enough, even if what they are describing is lovely. the night sky is a fine term for it but it isn't perfect the way november is the correct term for that month.

it's not just in english because in spanish the phrase eso si que es is correct, it should be that. sometimes other languages are also better than the english words, like how blue is sloped too far downwards but azul is perfect and hangs in the air like glitter. while butterfly is sweet, i think probably papillion is more correct, although for some butterflies féileacán is much better. year is fine but bliain is better. sometimes multiple languages got it right though, like how jueves and Πέμπτη are also the right names for thursday. maybe we as a species are just really good at naming thursdays.

and if we were really bored and had a moment and a picnic to split we could all sit down for a moment and sort out all the words that exist and find all the perfect words in every language. i would show you that while i like the word tree (it makes you smile to say it), i think arbor is correct. you could teach me from your language what words fit the right way, and that would be very exciting (exciting is not correct, it's just fine).

i think probably this is what was happening at the tower of babel, before the languages all got shifted across the world and smudged by the hand of god. by the way, hand isn't quite right, but i do like that the word god is only 3 letters, and that it is shaped like it is reflecting into itself, and that it kind of makes your mouth move into an echoing chapel when you cluck it. but the word god could also fit really well with a coathanger, and i can't explain that. i think donut has (weirdly) the same shape as a toothbrush, but we really got bagel right and i am really grateful for that.

grateful is close, but not like thunder. hopefully one day i am going to figure out how to shape the way i love my friends into a little ceramic (ceramic is very good, almost perfect) pot and when they hold it they can feel the weight of my care for them. they can put a plant in there. maybe a daisy.

[jubaer01]

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[sgribhisg]

thall – over (there) a-null – over (there + movement away from speaker) a-bhos – over (here) a-nall – over (here + movement towards speaker)

M.E.

·      Tha mi a-bhos an-seo.        [I am over here.]

·      Tha Raibeart thall an-sin.        [Robert is over there.]

·      Tha Raibeart thall ann am Muile.        [Robert is over (there) in Mull.]

·      Tha mise a-bhos anns an Òban.        [I am over (here) in Oban.]

 ·      Tha am bàta-aiseig a’ tighinn a-nall a dh'Òban.        [The ferry is coming over to Oban.]

·      Tha Raibert a’ tighinn a-nall à Muile air a’ bhàta-aiseag.        [Robert is coming over from Mull on the ferry.]

·     Chan eil mise a’ dol a-null a Mhuile.       [I am not going over to Mull.]

[utagori]

シャクヤク（れんげ、チャイナドレス、うさぎ）スコットランドゲール語

Peony (Chinese soup spoo, china dress, rabbit)

Peony (spù brot Sìneach, dreasa china, coineanach)

A bheil na faclan ceart?

[snapeaddict]

Tha mo chridhe-sa briste, brùite

‘S tric na deòir a’ ruith o m’shùilean

An tig thu a-nochd no’m bi mo dhúil riut

No’n dùin mi’n dorus le osna thùrsaich?

Tha an dealbh seo cho breagha, chan eil fhios agam carson chan fhaca mi e roimhe. Feumaidh Severus a shoulder to cry on.

Is tric mi 'sealltainn o'n chnoc a's àirde Dh'fheuch am faic mi fear a' bhàta An tig thu an diùigh no'n tig thu a-màireach? 'S mur tig thu idir gur truagh a tà mi

au where after a harrowing night of death eating, severus returns to hogwarts and is found by minerva who’s on night patrol. the dam breaks, and he allows himself a moment of weakness. minerva isnt privy to his activities, but she can deduce it’s probably worse than she can imagine. so she holds severus for as long as he allows, humming under her breath gaelic songs she’s known since childhood.

for @tiphoriginal who requested severus crying while being hugged by minerva…or something similar. :)

[anarchotolkienist]

Is e an-diugh an 140mh ceann-là de Bhlàr a' Chumhaing, no Battle of the Braes sa chànain eile, ann an sgìre a' Bhràighe san Eilean Sgitheanach. B' ann eadar poilis Ghlaschu agus croitearan is cotairean an eilein a bha am blàr seo, is na Gàidheil a' strì son còirichean talmhainn a chaidh a ghoid orra leis na h-uachdarain mhòra - gu sònraichte cead-ionaltraidh Bheinn Lì a bh' aca air chleachdadh cho fada is a bha Gàidheil san eilean - fhaighinn air ais. Bha an gall mòr seo air an robh 'Sherriff Ivory' ann an Port Rìgh os cionn poileas Gallta a bha feuchainn ri croitearan a dhliùilt aontachadh air cìsean gun chead-ionaltraidh fhaighinn an greim sa Bhaile Mheadhanach, ach chruinnich muinntir na sgìre aig a' Chumhang - 'dorast' na sgìre mar gum biodh - gus blàr is amhreit a chumail riutha, le badain is maide is clachan. Fhuair na croitearan saorsa, is phiobraich am blàr soirbheachail seo Gàidheil eile, air Gàidhealtachd is air fhògradh, gus ceartas a sheasamh ann an 'cogadh nan Croitearan'. Is iad as adhbhar a fhuair sinn Achd na Croitearachd, a chuir crìoch air linn nam fuadaichean, agus is iad as adhbhar a mhair a' Ghàidhlig idir beò dar linn fhèin. Cuireamaid clach air an càrn, is sìos leis a' phoileas, cho fìor an-diugh is a bha e nan là-san.

[Dealbh: an càrn-cuimhne faisg air Camas Dìonabhaig san Eilean Sgìtheanach, air an urrainnear na leanas a leughadh: Faisg air a' Chàrn seo, air an 9mh là deug den Ghiblean 1882, chrìochnaich an cath a chuir muinntir a' Bhràighe air sgàth tuath na Gàidhealtachd]

[scotianostra]

21st May 1872 saw the death in Bunessan on Mull of the Gaelic poet Mary MacDonald.

(Not to be confused with Mary MacDonald/Great Mary of the Song another great Gaelic poet)

Mary MacDonald, born in 1789 at Dalnacarn near Bunessan daughter of Duncan MacDougall and Ann Morrison, was a poet of some prowess. She lived with her husband Neil MacDonald and ten children in a basic dwelling enduring crofting hardships of the period.

21st May 1872 saw the death in Bunessan on Mull of the Gaelic poet Mary MacDonald. Mary composed the worldwide known verses entitled ‘Leanabh an Aigh’ (Child in a Manger).The fourteen verses she composed has assured Mary of her niche worldwide. Arguably the most famous Gaelic tune in the world, the lovely melody to which it is sung is centuries old and is called “Bunessan.” Many people will know Bunessan as the name of the tune of Cat Stevens 1972 hit ‘Morning has broken’.

She also wrote a lament for her drowned daughter in law and a song about her husband’s smoking habits and his bad temper when he couldn’t get his tobacco.

  Leanabh An Aigh

Leanabh an àigh, an leanabh aig Màiri, Rugadh san stàball, Rìgh nan Dùl; Thàinig don fhàsach, dh'fhuiling nar n-àite Son’ iad an àireamh bhios dha dlùth.

Ged a bhios leanabain aig rìghrean na talmhainn An greadhnachas garbh is anabarr mùirn, ’S geàrr gus am falbh iad, ’s fàsaidh iad anfhann, An àilleachd ’s an dealbh a’ searg san ùir.

Cha b’ ionann ’s an t-Uan thàinig gar fuasgladh Iriosal, stuama, ghluais o thùs; E naomha gun truailleachd, Cruithfhear an t-sluaigh; Dh'èirich e suas le buaidh on ùir.

Seo leanabh an àigh a dh'aithris na fàidhean; ’S na h-ainglean àrd, b’ e miann an sùl; ’S E ’s airidh air gràdh ’s air urram thoirt dha - Sona an àireamh bhios dha dlùth.

’S ann am Betlehèm thàinig an sgeul ’S binne da threud na teudan ciùil; Armailt nam Flaitheas is aingle neimh Ag àrd mholadh Dhè ’s a’ seinn a chliù.

Èistibh an fhuaim le sgeula nam buadh A dh'aithris na buachaillean o thùs; Gheibh sibh an t-Uan sa phrasaich na shuain ’S e shaoras a shluagh le buaidh ’s le cliù.

Teagasg a Rìgh dhuinn slighe na sìthe Nad cheumaibh dìleas cùm sinn dlùth; Thusa bha dìleas dhuinn o shìorr'achd Urras ro chinnteach air ar cùl.

Neartaich ar dòchas, meudaich ar n’ eòlas Cuir sinn nad ròidean dìreach dlùth; Le ola nar lòchrain mar ris na h-òighean A’ seinn ann an glòir an òrain ùir.

Translations vary but this one by Gaelic scholar and journalist Lachlan MacBean seems most popular.

Child in the manger, infant of Mary; outcast and stranger, Lord of all; Child who inherits all our transgressions, all our demerits on Him fall.

Once the most holy Child of salvation gently and lowly lived below; now, as our glorious mighty Redeemer, see Him victorious o'er each foe.

Prophets foretold Him, infant of wonder; angels behold Him on His throne; worthy our Savior of all our praises; happy forever are His own.

[a-muse-medarling]

From Nelly [text] Dhìochuimhnich mi cho math sa tha fònaichean cealla. Tha mi a ’dol a chuir thugad dealbh den bhiast seo.

[text]: mhmm. Okay. I don’t know what the heck that means, kid.

[claigeanndorcha]

Can‘t have a high blood alcohol if you‘ve got no blood

Drunk Skeletons (2012) - Vlad Gradobyk, aka AC44

[culbertsons]

Choimhead Adam agus Martha air An Fhaochag agus a Mhuc-mhara, rinn iad cuideachd dealbh de mhuc-mhara.