[from Manx Ballads, 1896]

MANNIN VEG VEEN.  

DEAR MANNIN-VEG.*

 

!VANNIN VEG VFEN,
T'ayns mean y cheayn;
Aynjee ta lane eeasteyryn;
Tra ta'n oayrn cui'rt,
As ny praasyn soit,
Goll roue dy cherragh ny baatyn.

Son y Feaill-Eoin,
Bee mayd goll roin,
,Dy yeeaghyn son warpyn skeddan; Heear'sy Chione-roauyr,
Lesh yurnaa liauyr,
-Goaill neose nyn shiailll fo'n Charron.

Heear ec y veain,
Shiaulley dy meen,
Yn tidey keayrt va noi ain
Stiagh dys Purt-Yiarn,
Dy yeeaghyn ny mraane,
As dy pha aghey nyn myrneenyn.

Goll veih thie dy hie,
Yeeaghyn son jough-vie,
Cha row ny lheid ry-gheddyn
Eisht hrog shin shiaull
Erskyn nyn gione,
As hie shin son y Gheaylin.

Heear cc y Giark,
Magh ec yn Chlet,
Yn cheayn va gatt as freayney;
Roish rosh yn tidey
Yn Chiggin vooar,
Daa ghooinney gollish teaymey.

Goll seose yn roayrt,
Ta deiney loayrt, .
As mennick fluighey nyn lieckan;
Yn flod va roin, As foddey voin
Adsyn shegin dooin y gheddyn.

Tra ren shin feddyn
'SY flod ry-gheddyn,
Nagh row ad shen lesh phrowal;
Tra cheayll shin oc
Ny skeayllyn v'oc,
Nagh cheau shin voiff yn famman.

Tra v'an shibber eeit,
As yn liggar roit,
As ooilley jeant dy baghtal,
Hie shin dy ronsagh,
Row yn eeast veg fondagh,
Dy heet roue hoin dy aghtal.

Roish brishey'n laa,
Hug shin magh coraa,
Cha leah's va shin er coontal
Eisht yn chied saagh
Haink hooin dy booiagh,
Dansoor shin ee dy lowal.

Ec brishicy yn laa,
Ve kiune as rea,
Va'n cheayn goll-rish traie gheinnee,
DY chooilley hiaull
V'oc fakin goll,
.Gyllagh, "jeeagh magh son wherrde."

Er y vaie vooar
Va sterrym dy liooar,
Lesh. earish fluigh as fliaghey
Skeddan dy glen
Yiogh shin ayns shen,
Bee'n gh.obbag as y vuc--~arrey.

Toshiaght yn ouyr,
Bee'n oie gaase liauyr,
Faag mayd nyn mannaght ec y Chiggin, Hig mayd eisht royn
Dys Doolish ny lhong,
As bee giense ain ayns thie Whiggin.

Ayns thie Whiggin vooar,
Ta jough dy liooar,
Marish palchey lhune as liggar;
As lhiabbee-vie,
Dy gholl dy lhie,
Tra vees mayd lesh nyn shibber.

Bee paayrt cheet thie
Fegooish naight vie,
Ta n snaie ain eeit ec y ghobbag;
Ny mraane-oast hene
Goaill chymmey jin,
Gra, ta caart ain foast 'sy vullag."

 

OH! dear MANNIN-VEG,
In midst of the sea;
In her are many fishermen;
When the barley's sown,
And potatoes set,
They go away to mend their boats.

By St. John's Feast-day,1
We shall be away,2
To look for the warps of herring;
West at Kione-roauyr,3
With a long journey,
Furling our sails under Charron.4

Westward at the mine,
So calmly sailing,
The tide at one time against us;
Straight to Port Iron!
There to behold the women, and
To kiss our sweethearts.

Going from house to house,
Seeking for good ales,
But there was no getting any;
Then we hoist our sail
O'er our head,
And make out towards the Shoulder.5

West at the Hen,6
Out at the Clet,7
The sea was swelling and foaming;
'Fore the tide reached
To the big Chicken,8
Two men were sweating with pumping.

The men are talking,
And frequently wetting their cheek;
The fleet was 'fore us,
And far from us still
Were those whom we wanted to reach.

When we arrived
At the fleet again,
They had already done proving;9
When we heard from them
The tidings they had,
Did we not cast forth our net's tail ?

When supper was done,
And the liquor spent,
And all manifestly finished,
We then went to search,
If sufficient fish
Had handily come to us.

Before break of day,
We shouted aloud,
As soon as we counted (the fish);
Then the foremost boat
Came gladly to us,
But we answered them discreetly.

At the break of day,
It was calm and fair,
The sea was like a sandy shore.
Every sail there
Was seen flapping,
Crying, "look out for a wherry."

On the big bay
Was storm enough,
With very damp weather and rain; Herrings clearly
We would get there,
Both the dog-fish and the sea-hog.

Harvest begun,
Evenings grow long,
We'll leave our blessing at the Chicken, We'll then come away
To Douglas by ship,
In Quiggin's house we'll have our dance.

In big Quiggin's house,
There 's drink enough,
With plenty of ale and spirits;
And a good bed,
Wherein to lie,
When we have done our supper.

Some will come home
Without good news,
Our net eaten by the dog fish;
The landladies
Do pity us,
Saying, "there's a quart in the cask."

* Little Isle of Man.
1 Midsummer Day.
2 Going away.
3 Broad-head, a well-known headland near Peel, now called Contrary Head.
4 The Charron, a headland near Bradda.
5 Port Erin.
6 The fishing ground off the Calf.
7 Rocks of the Calf.
8 Going up the tide,
9 Trying for herring.


 

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