Caint bheo Bhaile Átha Cliath ón 16ú Céad

Foilsíodh leabhar dar teideal The Fyrst Boke of the Introduction of Knowledge le Andrew Borde in 1547. Bhí eolas ann faoi roinnt theangacha, an Ghaeilge ina measc. Tá giotaí cainte ón leabhar le fáil in Leabhrann Laighinigh le Daithí Ó hÓgáin, nach maireann.

Dar leis an mbéaloideasóir iomráiteach ba rídhealraitheach gur i mBaile Átha Cliath a bailíodh é. Tá idir uimhreacha agus abairtí ann agus mheas Ó hÓgáin gur bailíodh iad ó níos mó ná cainteoir amháin. Tá roinnt eolais faoi chanúint na ngiotaí níos faide síos.

Tá leaganacha Borde faoi leaganacha Uí Ógáin.

An ólthá deoch, sir. Dé ‘bheatha ‘un an bhaile

(Anoha dewh, sor? De wan wely)

Canas ‘tá tú?’ ‘Tá mé go maith, go raibh maith agat

(Kanys stato? Tam a goomah gramahagood).

Sir, bhfuil Gaeilig agat? Tá suim agam dhi.

(Sor, woll galow oket? [Syr, can you speak Iryshe?] Tasyn agomee).

A chailín, tar anseo – tabhair deoch!

(Kalyn, tarin chow, toor dewh!)

A bhean an tí, ‘bhfuil bia maith agat? Tá go leor.

(Benitee, wyl beemah hagoot? Sor, tha gwyler).

A bhean an tí, tabhair arán! A fhear an tí, tabhair fíon!

(Benytee, toor haran! Farate, toor fyen!)

A chailín, tabhair cáis! A bhean an tí tabhair feoil!

(Kalyn, toor case! Benyte, toor foeule!).

Tabhair iasc! Déanfa’ go subhach!

(Toor yeske! Teena go sowgh!)

Gá ‘fhad as seo go Port Láirge? Míle a haon ar fhichid.

(Gath haad o showh go part laarg? Myle hewryht)

Gá mhéid buille a’ chlog? Sé bhuille a’ chlog.

(Gaued bowleh glog? She wyllya glog)

Gá fhad go racha muid ‘un ar suipéir?

(Gahad rah moyd aner soper?)

Tabhair cuntas dúinn, a bhean an tí. Íocfa’ tú trí pingine.

(Toor countes doyen, benitee. Yeke ke to tre pyniny)

Gathain a racha’ muid a chodladh? Anois féin.

(Gah hon rah moyd holowh? Nish feene)

Oíche mhaith sir! Sor duit sor duit [soraidh duit]!

(Ih may, sor! Sor doyt, sor doyt!)

1 - hewen

2 - dow
3 - tree
4 - kaar
5 - quiek
6 - seh
7 - showght
8 - howght
9 - nygh
10 - deh

11 - hewnek
12 - dowek
13 - tredeek
14 - kaardeek
15 - quiekdeek
16 - sehdeek
17 - showdeek
18 - howghtdeek
19 - nythdeek
20 - feh

21 - ‘haon fichead (hewn feet)

22 - dó fichead (dowfeet)
23 - trí fichead (trefeet)
30 - deich fichead (dehfeet)
40 - daichead (‘eayet)
50 - deich agus daichead (dewhegesdayth)
60 - trí fichid (trefeet)
100 - keede

Dar le Daithí Ó hÓgáin tá foghraíocht thuaisceartach le brath sna focail seo – aon, dó, fiche, daichead, deoch, baile, seo, oíche mhaith, soraidh duit.

Tá foghraíocht thuaisceartach nó lár tíre ag na focail seo  - ceathair, íocfá tú,  racha muid, ár.

Tá samplaí a réitíonn le deisceart Laighin nó oirthear Mumhan freisin – naoi, deoch, déag, céad.

‘Buille a chlog’ a dúradh sa cheantar céanna chomh maith.

Rud spéisiúil eile ná go bhfuil dhá leagan den fhocal ‘agat’ – ‘oket’ (lár-tíre) agus ‘agoot’ (Mumhan).

Tá abairt amháin a mhéascan dhá chanúint – ‘Dé ‘bheatha ‘un an bhaile’. Tá cuma deisceartach ar an tús ach cuma tuaisceartach ar an gcuid eile.

Is cosúil, mar sin, gur meascán mearaí a bhí sa Ghaeilge a labhraíodh i mBaile Átha Cliath san 16ú Céad – Plus ça change!

Dublin-Monaghan was Ireland's 9/11

Last month people in America and around the world commemorated the ten year anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. On that day 3,000 civilians were murdered by Al Qaeda.

In response to this massacre the US government launched a massive worldwide campaign to destroy Osama Bin Laden's group. It invaded Afghanistan and removed the Taliban from power because they were sheltering Al Qaeda.

It got a resolution in the United Nations which called on all countries “to work together urgently to bring to justice the perpetrators, organizers and sponsors of those terrorist attacks and stressed that those responsible for aiding, supporting or harbouring them would be held accountable.”

George Bush said that anyone helping terrorists were terrorists. The US built the Guantanamo Bay prison camp and kidnapped and tortured people it suspected of being involved in the 9/11 attack.

It eventually caught up with Osama Bin Laden in May of this year and killed him.



Now imagine that the US had taken a different approach to the greatest single act of murder against its citizens. Imagine that the investigation had been wound down after two months. Imagine that leads were not followed up and that US authorities ignored strong evidence that a foreign government had helped the terrorists to carry out their bloody attack.

Imagine that survivors who were campaigning for justice were placed under surveillance by the FBI. Imagine that police and Department of Justice files on the case went missing. Imagine that for years there was no official commemoration of the event and that the families had to campaign for a monument to the victims.

Imagine that the Taliban refused to share information they had on the attack but the US continued to have friendly relations with them. Imagine that Al Qaeda carried out more terrorist attacks on America while the Taliban continued to give them shelter.

It's hard to imagine such a scenario, but one just like it happened, and continues to to happen, in Ireland.

The Dublin-Monaghan bombings were Ireland's 9/11. It was the single biggest crime in the history of the State. 33 people were killed, including one pregnant woman, when bombs went off in Dublin and Monaghan town in 1974.

The UVF were suspected at the time of being behind the atrocity, and they finally admitted responsibility in 1993. Evidence suggests that the loyalist paramilitary group did not act alone, and that the British government's security forces, MI5, the British Army and the RUC, may have helped them to carry out the terrorist attack.

As you might guess from the paragraph above, the Garda investigation into the attack was stopped after two months and leads indicating UVF involvement weren't followed up. The families of the victims were outraged and began a campaign to find the truth. Garda Special Branch officers surveilled the families at protests and commemorative events. Garda and Department of Justice files on the case have disappeared, presumed destroyed.

The families eventually forced the government to holding an inquiry into the attacks. It concluded that the allegation that British forces were involved in the attack was “neither fanciful nor absurd” but that as the British government refused to cooperate with the inquiry, it could not give a definitive answer. A parliamentary report ohttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifn inquiries into other loyalist attacks in the Republic accused the British government of engaging in 'international terrorism'.

Earlier this year newly-elected Taoiseach Enda Kenny asked David Cameron to hand over files the British government it has on the bombing. He refused. This is how things stand at the present – the Irish government half-heartedly asks the British government for the files, they say no and we say ok, no worries.

Given the way the Irish and British states have dealt with the attacks since 1974, it's hard not to suspect that both governments are happy to allow the situation to remain as it is.

All the while the British government was, at best, refusing to reveal all its knew about loyalist attacks in the Republic, at worst, actually involved in them, the Irish government was helping the British government to stop the IRA from attacking the UK.

If you're not from Ireland you may be totally baffled as to the reasons the Irish government has basically covered up Ireland's 9/11. If you're Irish you may have an idea, but it'll most likely be one that is almost never openly discussed in Ireland.

It's got to do with the implications of possible British involvement in the attack. If it so happened that the British government organised the bombing, it would mean that they had launched a terrorist attack on their nearest neighbour and had committed an act of war. This would have massive international repercussions.

More importantly for Irish governments, it would cause massive outrage in Ireland.

The main priority of the Irish establishment since the beginning of the Troubles has been to maintain 'stability' south of the border. This means keeping support for the IRA in the Republic as low as possible. If it were known that Britain bombed Ireland, support for the IRA could grow. Looking the other way with regards to the Dublin-Monaghan bombing was done in the name of protecting the State.

Unfortunately the 'State' in this case does not include the citizens of the State, and more specifically the 33 citizens killed on 17 May 1974. They, their families and the truth have been sacrificed in the name of the 'State'.

Since 1974 Fianna Fáil, Fine Gael, Labour, the Progressive Democrats, the Green Party and Democratic Left have been in power and have been involved in this scandal. Remember this the next time you hear people from these parties pontificating about law and order or morality.

Why Dublin's All Ireland victory means so much

It's five days since Dublin won the Sam Maguire Cup and I'm still smiling. Indeed I've never seen so many people with smiles on their faces as I did last Sunday.

The celebrations went late into the night and there was another session the next day in the local GAA club in Clondalkin and at the homecoming event in Merrion Square.

It'll take me a bit to explain why Dubliners are so delighted with this victory.

The first one is that we haven't won the All Ireland in 16 years. But even in 1995 and the time before that in 1983 the victories were controversial and left a bit of a sour taste.

In 1983 three Dublin players were sent off, Brian Mullins for elbowing a Galway player in the head and Ciarán Duff for kicking another in the head. Depending on where you were from the players became known as the the 12 Apostles or the Dirty Dozen. I'm not sure when the 'Dirty Dubs' tag got attached to the county but it's been around for as long as I remember and I'm sure that game added a lot to it.

In the 1995 final Charlie Redmond was sent off for headbutting a Tyrone player, but managed to stay on the pitch for a few minutes in one of the most bizarre episodes in GAA history. This incident led to the introduction of yellow and red cards in the games. The awarding of a free out against Peter Canavan in the dying minutes of the game as Tyrone were about the equalize and the accusations that the referee had favoured Dublin also cast a shadow over the victory.

Even though the Dubs did win in 1995, that team should have won at least two other All-Irelands, but they never lived up to their potential. They could and should have won all of the four games against Meath in 1991 but failed on each occasion.

Since then bad luck and nerves have plagued the Dublin team. Look at the record at this link to see what I mean.

In the past ten years there was the epic draw against Kerry in Thurles after we were ten points down, the free kick in the last minute that came off the post against Armagh in 2002, the physical pressure we buckled to against the same team next year, the eight point lead we lost against Mayo in 2006, the shameful capitulations against Tyrone and Kerry in 2008 and 2009, and the one point loss against Cork last year.

One of the best things about the win this year is that it was against Kerry, the team that has gotten the better of us eight times since 1977.

They destroyed Dublin in 1978 and 79 and made a laughing stock out of Paddy Cullen in 1978.

They were the better team in 1984 and 1985 but Dublin were unlucky in 2001. They were the better team again in 2004 and 2007, but you can't fault Dublin's great effort in the latter year.

The worst loss came two years ago. After Tyrone had trounced us in 2008 the team looked like it had recovered and were favourites to win against a Kerry team that was playing terribly that season.

Dublin totally bottled it however, and lost by 17 points.

Pat Gilroy was in charge of that team, and things didn't improve at all at the start of the 2010 Championship. The games against Wexford, Meath and Tipp were the worst performances by a Dublin team I'd ever seen. I was just hoping that my fears about Gilroy's management were wrong (thankfully they were).

I was so despondent about the team that I was almost ready not to go to the next game against Armagh. One of the things that persuaded me to go was the fact that the Dublin hurlers were playing Antrim beforehand, so I was thinking that we'd at least have one victory to celebrate.

Then the hurlers threw away a comfortable lead and lost in the last minute! The time between the end of that game and the victory over Armagh was the darkest in the entire time I've been following the Dubs.

Now I'm going to forget about all that heartbreak!

Last Sunday the Dubs did things they hadn't done for many many years. They beat Kerry, they won a game that was slipping away from them and they showed incredible bravery and composure. The dramatic manor of the victory only adds to the celebrations.

I used to watch clips on Youtube from the 1977 victory over Kerry every so often, but now we have a successor. I've watched the glorious last nine minutes of the 2011 final on the RTÉ Player a few times since Monday, and I might just watch it a few more times in the future.

As well as that I've been watching clips of the last minute of the game, some of which are below. Fans from counties who haven't succeeded on the big day like Mayo and Kildare can take some inspiration from them, for the Dubs...enjoy!

An bua is sultmhaire riamh

Tá sé ceithre lá ó bhuaigh Baile Átha Cliath Corn Sam Maguire agus tá an meangadh gáire fós ar m'aghaidh. Go deimhin féin ní fhaca mé an méid sin daoine le meangadh gáire ar a n-aghaidheanna is a chonaic Dé Domhnaigh seo caite.

Bhí oíche go maidin ann dar ndóigh agus seisiún mór eile Dé Luain sa chumann peile áitiúil i gCluain Dolcáin agus ag an ócáid don fhoireann i lár na cathrach. Tógfaidh sé píosa dom míniú cén fáth go bhfuil muintir Bhaile Átha Cliath ag baint an méid seo sonais as an mbua.

An chéad cheann ná nár bhuaigh muid Craobh Uile-Éireann le 16 bliain. Fiú in 1995 agus an uair roimhe sin in 1983 bhí na buanna a fuair muid an-chonspóideach.

In 1983 cuireadh triúr imreoir de chuid Bhaile Átha Cliath den pháirc, Brian Mullins as buile a thabhairt d'imreoir Gailleamhach lena uilleann agus Ciaran Duff as cic sa cheann a thabhairt do dhuine eile. An 12 Aspal nó the Dirty Dozen a ghlaodh orthu ina dhiaidh, agus d'fhan an leas ainm na 'Dirty Dubs' leis an gcontae ar feadh na mblianta.

Sa chluiche ceannais in 1995 d'fhan Charlie Redmond ar an bpáirc ar feadh cúpla nóiméad tar éis gur chuir an réiteoir é den pháirc agus bhí raic ann faoin gcic amach a bhronnadh in aghaidh réalta Thír Eoghain, Peter Canavan, ag deireadh an chluiche. Droch-chluiche amach is amach a bhí ann.

Cé gur éirigh leo an corn a bhaint in 1995, ba cheart don fhoireann sin ar an laghad dhá chraobh eile a bhuachan, ach theip orthu ar an lá mór. Bhí an-deis acu sa cheithre chluiche a bhí acu in éadan na Mí in 1991 ach theip orthu an bua a chinntiú gach uair.

Idir an dá linn bhí idir mhí-ádh agus néirbhísí ag cur isteach ar an bhfoireann sa chraobh. Breathnaigh ar an taifead sa nasc seo le cur síos cuimsitheach a fháil ar an méid atá á rá agam.

Le deich mbliana anuas bhí an comhscór i nDurlas Éile in 2001, tar éis dúinn teacht ar ais ó bheith deich gcúilín taobh thiar de Chiarraí, an liathróid a bhuail in aghaidh an phosta in éadan Ard Mhacha in 2002, an géilleadh a rinne muid don fhoireann chéanna in 2003, an farasbar ocht gcúilín a chaill muid in aghaidh Mhaigh Eo in 2006, na cailliúntí náireacha in éadan Tír Eoghain agus Ciarraí in 2008 agus 2009 faoi seach agus an chailliúnt aon phointe in éadan Chorcaí anuraidh.

Ceann de na rudaí is fearr faoin mbua i mbliana ná go ndearna muid é in éadan Ciarraí. Bhí an ceann is fearr faighte ag an Ríocht ar Bhaile Átha Cliath ocht n-uaire ó 1977.

Rinne siad sléacht ar Bhaile Átha Cliath in 1978 agus 79, agus ceap magaidh de Paddy Cullen in 1978.

B'iad an fhoireann is fearr in 1984 agus 1985 ach bhí mí-ádh orainn in 2001. B'iad an fhoireann is fearr in 2004 agus 2007, cé go ndearna Baile Átha Cliath traen iarrachta in 2007.

Tharla an chailliúnt is measa dhá bhliain ó shin. Tar éis do Thír Eoghain ár a dhéanamh orainn in 2008 bhí an fhoireann ar ais ar a shean léim arís agus iad mar rogha na coitiantachta in aghaidh Chiarraí, a d'imir go dona sa chraobh go dtí sin. Ghéill Baile Átha Cliath sa chluiche áfach, agus bhí 17 cúilín le spáráil ag an Ríocht ag an deireadh.

Bhí Pat Gilroy i gceannas don chluiche sin, agus níor tháinig aon leigheas ar chúrsaí ag tús na craoibhe in 2010. Ba iad na cluichí in aghaidh Loch Garman, na Mí agus Tiobraid Árainn na taispéantais is measa a chonaic mé riamh.

Bhí an méid sin lagmhisneach orm go raibh drogall orm dul chuig an gcéad chluiche eile in aghaidh Ard Mhacha - ceann de na fáthanna go ndeachaigh mé ná go raibh iománaithe Bhaile Átha Cliath ag imirt roimh na peileadóirí, agus bhí mé ag ceapadh go mbeadh bua san iomáint le ceiliúradh againn ar a laghad agus nach cur amú iomlán a bheadh sa lá.

Ansin chaill na hiomáinithe in aghaidh Aontroma sa nóiméad deireanach!

Anois táim chun dearmad a dhéanamh faoin gcrá croí sin ar fad! Dé Domhnaigh seo caite rinne Baile Átha Cliath rudaí nach raibh déanta acu le blianta blianta fada. Fuair siad an ceann is fearr ar Chiarraí, bhuaigh siad cluiche a bhí ag sleamhnú uathu, agus léirigh siad crógacht agus stuaim dochreidte.

Tráth dá raibh bhreathnaigh mé ar sean-fhíséain ón gcluiche cáiliúil idir Baile Átha Cliath agus Ciarraí in 1977, ach tá a chomharba againn anois. Tá an naoi nóiméid draíochta de Chluiche Ceannais 2011 feicthe agam iliomad uair ar an RTÉ Player ón Luan seo caite ar aghaidh, agus táim ag ceapadh go mbreathnóidh mé air anois agus arís amach anseo.

Mar aon le sin bhreathnaigh mé ar na físéain den nóiméad deireanach ar Youtube, tá roinnt acu le feicéail thíos. Do na contaetha nár éirigh leo ar an lá mór ar nós Mhaigh Eo agus Chill Dara - bainigí ionspioráid astú, do lucht Bhaile Átha Cliath - bainigí sult astú!

Bua maith do na Dubs

Bhí bua maith ag Baile Átha Cliath Dé Domhnaigh in éadan Chill Dara i gCraobh Laighean. Bhí go leor conspóide ag baint le deireadh an chluiche, ach fós féin bhí an bua tuillte ag na Dubs.

Seo an dara huair le trí bliana anuas go bhfuair Baile Átha Cliath an ceann is fearr ar Chill Dara agus 14 fear ar an ngort acu.

I gcluiche ceannais Laighean i 2009 cuireadh Ger Brennan den pháirc go luath sa chéad leath ach d'éirigh le Bleá Cliath an lámh in uachtar a fháil ar fhoireann Kieren McGeeney.

Rinne siad aithris ar an taispeántas sin Dé Domhnaigh tar éis gur cuireadh Eoghan O'Gara den pháirc don dara cárta buí.

Theip ar Chill Dara an deis a thapú tar éis an eachtra sin agus bhí BÁC ceithre chúilín chun cinn le dhá nóiméad fágtha agus an cosúlacht go raibh rás Chill Dara rite.

De bharr droch-chosaint ó Bhaile Átha Cliath scóráil Cill Dara 1-1 chun an scór a chothromú áfach.

Bhí mí-ádh ar Chill Dara faoin 'feall' a rinne Aindriú Mac Lochlainn ar Bernard Brogan ag an deireadh, ach is beag údár gearáin atá acu faoin gcluiche ina iomlána. Bhí fear breiseadh acu don chuid is mó den dara leath ach is beag tairbhe a bhain siad as de bharr nach bhfuil tosaithe láidre acu.

Déantar go leor gearáin faoin 'hype' a bhaineann le foireann Bhaile Átha Cliath, ach an fhírinne sa chás seo ná gur le Cill Dara a bhain an 'hype' le blianta beaga anuas. Tá siad ag déanamh dul chun cinn faoi McGeeney, agus bhí mí-ádh orthu in éadan an Dúin anuraidh, ach theip orthu ardú céime go Roinn 1 a bhaint amach sa tsraith i mbliana agus go dtí go bhfuil Craobh Laighean buaite acu ní féidir a rá go bhfuil siad i measc príomhfoirne na tíre.

Ó thaobh na Dubs Dé Domhnaigh bhí na cúlaithe an-mhaith ar fad, go háirithe an líne lán chúl, an líne is laige a bhí againn le blianta beaga anuas.

Tá go leor athraithe ar bun ag Pat Gilroy ar an bhfoireann agus nílim cinnte an rud maith é sin faoin tráth seo. Ní féidir le Eoghan O'Gara agus Diarmuid Connolly imirt le chéile, tá siad ró-chosúil mar imreoirí, seachas gur féidir le Connolly cúilíní a scóráil.

Bronnadh Laoch na hImeartha ar Alan Brogan ar an Sunday Game dá thaispeántas sa líne leath-thosach, ach measaim féin go bhfuil sé níos luachmhara sa líne lán-tosach in éineacht lena dheartháir Bernard.

Ní raibh cluiche iontach ag Connolly nó ag Michael Dara Macauley i lár na páirce, ach tá súil agam go mbíonn siad ar ais ar a sheanléim arís gan mhoill. Deá-sceál a bhí ann go raibh Eamon Fennell aclaí le himirt óir bíonn gá le fear mór i lár na páirce anois is arís chun seilbh a fháil ar an liathróid.

Is rogha na coitiantachta iad Baile Átha Cliath don chluiche ceannais in aghaidh Loch Garman ach táim ar nós cuma liom faoin toradh.

Bhuaigh BÁC cúig chraobh cúige as a chéile le déanaí ach i ndeireadh na dála cén mhaitheas a bhí leis? Níl ach craobh amháin á lorg ag lucht leanúna peile Bhaile Átha Cliath.

Malairt scéil atá ann ó thaobh iománaithe an chontae áfach agus iad ag ullmhú le haghaidh a thabhairt ar Chill Chainnigh Dé Domhnaigh seo chugainn.

Bheadh sé deacair shamhlú go bhfeadadh siad an ceann is fearr a fháil ar na Cait don tríú uair i mbliana, ach má éiríonn is éacht stairiúil den scoth a bheas ann.

Táim ag leanúint peileadóirí Bhaile Átha Cliath mo shaol ar fad, agus níor imir mé iománaíocht riamh, mar sin, ní bhíonn na mothúcháin chéanna ag baint le bua do na hiománaithe agus bua do na peileadóirí.

É sin ráite beidh mé i bPáirc an Chrócaigh Dé Domhnaigh beag seo agus an ceann ina diaidh – is nach mór gairm lán-aimseartha é a bheith i do thacadóir de chuid Bhaile Átha Cliath na laethanta seo!

http://twitter.com/colmobroin

Logainmneacha Bhaile Átha Cliath

Thug mé srachfhéachaint le déanaí ar na logainmneacha i mBaile Átha Cliath atá curtha ar logainm.ie le fáil amach an raibh tréithe canúna le brath iontu.

(Tá comhartha ceiste leis na cinn thíos nach bhfuil leagan oifigiúil Ghaeilge acu go fóill).

D'fhéach mé ar léarscáil de chuid na Suirbhéireachta Ordanáis cúpla bliain ó shin agus chonaic mé go raibh samplaí ann a thug le fios go raibh na tréithe seo a leanas sa chontae.

Dubh=Doo
Cnoc=Croc

Thug mé an méid céanna faoi dheara i gCill Mhantáin freisin, mar aon le mh='V'.

Tá ceithre logainm i mBaile Átha Cliath a léiríonn go ndúirt daoine i mBaile Átha Cliath 'Croc' seachas 'Cnoc' tráth;

Crooksling=Cnoc Sline (le feiceáil sa ghrianghraf thuas).
Crockshane=Cnoc Sheáin
​Crockaunadreenagh=Cnocán na nDraighneach
Crocknabrookey=Cnoc na Brocaí

Mar aon le sin bhí dhá fhocal Gaeilge i gcaint na ndaoine sa chontae sa 20ú hAois; Cnag ('a light blow with the knuckles') agus Cniog ('to beat'), ach is 'Cregg' agus 'Crig' a dúradh.

Tá ceithre cinn a thugann le fios gur 'doo' seachas 'duv' a dúradh freisin.

Glendoo=Gleann Dubh
Skidoo=Sceach Dhubh
Trumondoo=Triomán Dubh
Lugdoo=Log Dubh? (Black Hollow i mBéarla).

Bhí 'drimmindhoo' ag daoine i mBaile Áth Cliath ar 'Droim Fhionn Dubh' ach is ainm amhráin atá anseo mar sin ní fios an fhuaimniú dhúchais atá sa sampla seo de 'dubh=doo'.

Ó thaobh 'mh' de bhí A Mhic (Avick), A Mhuirnín (Avourneen) agus dhá leagan de Lán a'mhála , 'Lawnawalla' agus 'Laun a valla,' i gcaint na ndaoine. Is ó Sheanchill a tháinig an dara leagan.

Tá áit darbh ainm Glaise an Mhulláin i mBaile Átha Cliath ach is Glassavullaun an leagan Béarlaithe atá air. Mar aon le sin tá áit darbh ainm Askavore. D'fhéadfaí sé gur 'easca' atá i gceist le 'Aska' – an t-aon fhadhb le sin ná gur focal firinscineach atá ann dá bhrí sin is Easca Mór seachas Easca Mhór a bheadh air i nGaeilge – é sin nó bhí 'easca' baininscineach sa cheantar, mar atá 'contae' i nDún na nGall mar shampla.
B'fhéidir gur Eiscir Mhór atá ann ach go dtí go dtagann Coimisiún na Logainmneacha ar leagan oifigiúil ní bheidh ann ach buaile faoi thuairim.

Tá cúpla logainm eile atá spéisiúil ó thaobh foghraíochta de. An Béarla ar Abhainn an Dothra ná Owendoher, b'fhéidir go gciallaíonn sé sin gur 'owen' an bealach a dúirt muintir an chontae 'Abhainn' fadó.

Tá 'Coill' aistrithe ar bhealaí éagsúla i mBaile Átha Cliath, idir Kyle, Kil agus Colie agus tá Kelly agus Cullia do 'Coille' le fáil freisin.

Kylemore=An Choill Mhór
Kylenabrone=Coill na mBrón?
Kilmore=An Choill Mhór
Coliemore=An Choill Mhór
​Ballynakelly=Baile na Coille
​Barnacullia=Barr na Coille

Tá go leor de na tréithe logainmneacha céanna le fáil ó dheas i gCill Mhantáin freisin.

Crocknalugh=Cnoc na Log?
Crockanoo=Cnoc...?
Crockan Pond=Cnocán?

Bendoo=Beann Dubh?
Pollaghdoo=Pollach Dubh?
Carrigdoo=Carraig Dhubh?
Cordoo=Corr Dubh?
Knockdoo=Cnoc Dubh?

Baravore=Barra Mhór
Glenavadda=Gleann a'Mhada?
Carrigvore=Carraig Mhór?
Inchavore River=Inse Mhór?

Tá áiteanna darbh ainm 'Crockaun' (Cnocán) aimsithe agam i gCill Dara agus Longfort chomh maith a léiríonn go raibh an fuaimniú céanna sa dá chontae.

De réir eolais ón nasc seo, an Ghaeilge ar Dairy Hill i bparóiste Achadh Bhó i gContae Laoise ná "Doire a'Chrocain".

Cuireann na logainmneacha atá luaite agam leis an teoiric gur Gaeilge Chonnacht nó Uladh a bhíodh á labhairt i mBaile Átha Cliath. Chuirfinn m'airgead fhéin ar Ghaeilge Chonnacht.

http://twitter.com/colmobroin

Dubs can win if they believe

The Dublin footballers have their first outing of the Championship against Laois on Sunday and hopefully they can repeat the hurlers' successful start to the summer.

Pat Gilroy's men were unbeaten in the league until the final and only lost by a point to Cork so they are hot favourites to win.

If Diarmuid Connolly can rediscover the form that saw him score a hat-trick against Mayo in the league then we could have the makings of a 'dream' full forward line with Alan and Bernard Brogan.

Barry Cahill is a great attacking half-back but I'm yet to be convinced about him being at midfield – the area we got cleaned out by Cork in the league final.

Mossy Quinn is on the bench so it looks like Stephen Cluxton will be taking care of long range frees, it's a bit unorthodox to get the keeper to do this but if he puts them over the bar like he did last year then who cares?

Regarding the championship as a whole, Cork won't have the same hunger as last year, and Kerry and Tyrone are still in transition, so the Dubs mightn't get as good a chance to go all the way for a while. Anything less than an final appearance would be a disappointment.

Dublin's main problem in recent decades hasn't been a lack of footballing talent, it's a lack of mental strength.

I've lost track at this stage of the amount of big games we've lost by a point in the last few years, some of them games where we were well on top.

This isn't just a feature of the last decade however, the 1990s were as bad. Dublin were ahead in most of the four clashes against Meath in 1991, including being up by five in the second half of the last game, yet still managed to throw the leads away.

They lost against underdogs Donegal in 92, should have beaten Derry in 93 and Down in 94, and jut about scraped over the line in 95.

Last year's campaign offered some hope that Dublin may have conquered whatever mental demons that were holding them back.

After the shambolic and shameful collapses against Tyrone and Kerry in 2008 and 2009, finally beating one the 'big' teams, Tyrone, was a welcome relief.

I have to admit I wasn't a fan of Pat Gilroy at all before the win against Mickey Harte's men, due to the absolutely terrible performances against Wexford, Meath and Tipperary which followed on from the drubbing from Kerry in 2009.

The team began to turn things around against Armagh and then hit full stride against Tyrone.

Ok, we lost by a point against Cork, but at least the team went down fighting unlike the two previous years.

The jury is still out on Gilroy, but if my first impressions of his management turn out to be wrong I'll be delighted to say so!

Deacair 'normálú' a dhéanamh nuair a leanann ceilt Bhaile Átha Cliath-Muineacháin ar aghaidh

Lá stairiúl atá ann inniu, beidh Banríon Shasana, Éilis II, sa Phoblacht, an chéad chuairt ag ceannaire stáit na Breataine ar na 26 contae.
Ócáid shuntasach atá ann, níl aon amhras faoi sin, ní raibh Banríon nó Rí Shasana sa Phoblacht go dtí seo.
Táthar ag déanamh cur síos ar an gcuairt seo mar an chéim dheireanach den 'normálú' idir Poblacht na hÉireann agus an Ríocht Aontaithe. Deirtear chomh maith gur comhartha atá ann go bhfuil daoine in Éirinn “in inmhe” anois le glacadh leis an gcuairt seo.
Tá suntas ag baint leis an lá seo ar chúis eile áfach, agus tá dlúthbhaint idir an dá chúis. Ar an lá seo 37 bliain ó shin tharla buamáil Bhaile Átha Cliath-Muineacháin, an choir is mó is stair an Stáit.
Maraíodh 34 duine ar 17 Bealtaine 1974, an lá is fuiltí le linn na dTrioblóidí. Tá amhras ar go leor daoine go raibh baint ag fórsaí slándála na Breataine, sé sin, fórsaí slándála na Banríona, leis an uafás seo.
Ó shin i leith, tá diúltaithe ag an mBreatain eolas atá acu maidir leis an gcoir seo a scaoileadh, ainneoin iliomad iarratas ó theaghlaigh na marbh, gníomhaithe, an tOireachtas agus Taoisigh.
Mar sin, cén chaoi gur féidir 'normálú' a dhéanamh ar an gcaidreamh idir dhá thír nuair a amhras ann go ndearna ceann amhán acu buamáil sceimhlitheoireachta ar an gceann eile agus go ndiúltaíonn siad eolas atá acu faoin mbuamáil sin a eisiúnt?
Cuimhnigh chomh maith an drochmheas breise a léiríonn sé do mhuintir na hÉireann – le 40 bliain anuas tá go leor leor cainte déanta faoin gcomhoibriú slándála idir na Gardaí agus an RUC agus an PSNI.
Deirtear linn go rialta go bhfuil an comhoibriú seo níos fearr ná mar a bhí riamh agus go bhfuil go leor daoine beo inniu de bharr an chomhoibrithe seo.
Le blianta fada tá cabhair tugtha ag an bPoblacht chuig an mBreatain le stop a chur le iarrachtaí an tír sin a bhuamáil.
Ach nuair a iarrann muidne ar an mBreatain le haghaidh eolais faoin mbuamáil is measa is stair na hÉireann, diúltiú glan a fhaigheann muid.
Níl aon rud 'normálta' faoin staid seo.

Dublin 1916 and Dublin 4

John Waters wrote in the Irish Times last week about how Dublin “never quite seceded from the British Empire, but seems to gaze forlornly across the Irish Sea.”

A familiar charge was repeated in the piece – that Dubliners didn't support the Easter Rising in 1916.

Other accounts tell of how the rebels were abused and spat on and that some Dubliners even engaged in a bit of opportunistic looting during the Rising.

Not the most flattering of portraits to say the least.

Waters also claims that the Dublin media is Anglocentric and is guilty of “promoting British provincialism as the reality of Irish culture.”

This article touches on some truths regarding Dublin, which in ways is more Anglocentric than other parts of the country, but its main premise does not add up.

Let me deal with some minor points made in the article. First of all, there is no Dublin government. The majority of TDs in the Dáil are from outside Dublin and many TDs elected in Dublin aren't even from the county. The Irish government is located in Dublin, that doesn't mean it's run by Dublin.

Secondly, Dublin lacks “any significant presence of an indigenous populace or self-generated culture,” according to the article. Never heard of Croke Park?

Regarding 1916, it's true that the ordinary citizens of Dublin did not respond to the call from the rebels to rise up, but then again, neither did the ordinary citizens of any other part of the country.

Waters points out that only two of the Proclamation signatories were from Dublin as part of his argument – but fails to tell us how many of the Volunteers or Citizen Army fighters were from Dublin. I don't know the figure, but would be surprised if it was not the majority.

The popularity of the rebellion in Dublin and the rest of the country is an important issue – one that has relevance today. The entirely implausible revisionist/anti-Dublin depiction is that Dubliners in 1916 were contented subjects of the Crown who were furious with the rebels but then did a remarkable volte face and became committed republicans when the leaders of the armed uprising they supposedly hated were executed.

They then went on to vote overwhelmingly for Sinn Féin at the 1918 election and the county, along with Cork, became the crucible of the War of Independence.

In this respect Dublin can claim to be less tied to the British Empire than most other non-Unionist parts of the country, John Waters' Roscommon included.

Go back to the 19th Century and you'll see that the vast majority of Dubliners, once given the vote, voted for nationalist parties.

Sinn Féin didn't achieve a clean sweep in Dublin in 1918 however, something that may give us a clue to the public hostility shown to the Rising and the Anglocentric tendencies still found in the county.

A man by the name of Maurice Dockrell was elected in the Dublin Rathmines constituency for the Irish Unionist Alliance in 1918. (His son, Henry, was elected to the Dáil for Dublin County in 1932 for Cumann na nGaedhael and later for Fine Gael).

Another notable politician is Bryan Cooper, a British Army officer who was elected to Westminster as a Unionist MP in 1910 for Dublin South and subsequently won a seat in the Dáil as an independent TD for Dublin County in 1923 and for Cumann na nGaedhael in 1927.

What many don't realise today is that Dublin had a Unionist community before independence, no different to Unionist communities in the North today, with members ranging from the liberal to the sectarian, remnants of which survive to this day.

As I mentioned earlier Dublin, in some ways, is more Anglocentric than other parts of the country.

The most obvious manifestation of this is the 'Dublin 4' accent – which started out as an attempt by people to sound more English and later added some American influences.

Another are the Hibernophobic Ross O'Carroll Kelly types found in Dublin.

Hostility to indigenous Irish culture is probably stronger in Dublin than other parts of the Republic, but this is a case of degrees, not absolutes - witness the success of the Dublin hurlers on Sunday and the narrow loss by the footballers the previous week, to give one example.

Regarding Dublin's working class, I've lived in republican west Belfast and can say that the Sun-reading, Premiership-following, Coronation Street-watching culture is as prevalent there as it is in the capital.

Where Waters is accurate is the Anglocentric nature of our media. To get an idea of this just compare the number of pro-Unionist commentators in the newspapers to the number of pro-Nationalist ones.

Where he is wrong however is claiming that commentary in the media is representative of Dubliners.

Coddle and Dublin Lawyer

I got myself two cookbooks before Christmas, one with 1000 basic dishes for beginners, (I've 995 to go), the other a small Irish cookbook which included the quintessential Dublin dish, coddle.
It's a fairly basic meal, the book tried to complicate things a bit but basically its potatoes, sausages and rashers boiled together.
I did it the other day and it was tasty too, but I threw a bit of parsley in with it to add some flavour as spuds, sausages and rashers can only do so much.
I also did a meal from the book called Dublin Lawyer. I got a frozen lobster for £6.50 in Tescos in Belfast, cooked it in butter for a few minutes, poured some whiskey on it, lit the whiskey and poured cream over it all when the uisce beatha had burned itself out. And that's Dublin Lawyer.
I don't know where it got the name but presumably it was from a time when only lawyers in Dublin could afford it, or maybe it's because of the physical resemblance between lobsters and your average lawyers in the Four Courts, or even because many people in Ireland wouldn't mind seeing some lawyers thrown alive into boiling water : )?
As far as Dublin cuisine in the book goes there's also Dublin Bay Prawns and 'Dublin-Style' ham with apples, that's it and I don't know of any other dishes myself. Not that us Dubs should feel so bad, Ireland as a whole doesn't really have a cuisine of its own.
We do have a few unique dishes but a cuisine they do not make, there are probably villages in Spain and Italy that have more culinary variety in them than all of Ireland put together.
If you are what you eat that would make us mainly Anglo-American, I have to laugh everytime I see a sign in a chipper for 'Traditional Fish and Chips,' fish and chips being about as traditionally Irish as the Big Mac is.
Anyway I say if we don't have a cuisine there's no point complaining about it, we should create one.
Maybe cuisines should grow organically from the people, but we could always give it a boost, we could have a competition of some sort for our chefs and cooks and come up with dishes that for the most part use ingredients found in Ireland.
It wouldn't be ideal but sure there's no law against it.

There is no 'Dublin Government'

Call it what you like, the Irish Government, the National Government, the Government of the Republic, the Free State Governent, the 26 County Government, but the government that resides in Dublin is not the Dublin Government, in fact, there is no ‘Dublin Government.’
The representatives in Leinster House are elected by the people of the entire Irish Republic, not by the people of Dublin, and as well as that, a large number of the TDs elected in Dublin aren't even from the capital originally.
From what I see people from outside the city only use the term ‘Dublin Government’ when they don't like a decision made by the national government, which they elect themselves.
They disagree with a decision the government makes and because that government is located in Dublin, they blame the people of Dublin, or the city itself.
The use of ‘Dublin’ in this case is meant as a term of abuse, playing to the chip on the shoulder that some people in Ireland have about the capital, the same chip people in every country in the world have about their capitals or largest cities. This is all the more ironic given that our ruling Fianna Fáil party gets more support outside Dublin than in it.
Republicans may not like to use the term ‘Irish Government’ in case it is seen to legitimize partition in some way, but whatever about the issues people have with the term, the 'Irish Government' it is still far more accurate than the ‘Dublin Government.’
I've heard people from outside the city complaining along the lines that ‘Dublin doesn't care about us.’
You would almost think that there was some sort of a conspiracy involving the one million people living in Dublin to cod the rest of the country.
I don't hear people saying that Donegal, Galway, Cork, Tipperary or any other county in Ireland 'cares' about Dublin or anywhere else, or how exactly an entire county can care about another one.
Not only is it inaccurate to compain about the 'Dublin Government', it's childish and it does people outside of Dublin more harm than good by focusing their anger on the wrong culprit for any lack of fair play from the national government, real or imagined.
If there are problems in Ireland they are not the fault of the 'Dublin Goverment,' because no such a thing exists.

300 words of Dublin Irish

If you're from Dublin and have an interest in the Irish language try to pick up a copy of Lá Nua today.
I've come across some lists of Irish words and phrases that were collected in various parts of the county during the 20th Century, there are over 300 of them in total and they're being published on a wallposter in the paper today. (The five individual lists which have more info the authors collected will be published in Lá Nua next week, and three of them are below).
The material in Lá Nua comes from several sources, 'Gaelic Dialect in East and Mid-Leinster' (1933) by Donn Piatt, the folklore journal Béaloideas, (from 1945 and 1947) 'Fair Fingall,' (written before 1949 by Peter Archer) and the article 'Irish in the Liberties' by Máirín Mooney in 'An Ghaeilge i mBaile Átha Cliath' (1985).
I was really surprised when I came across a list of 44 Irish words from Shankill in Donn Piatt's book a while back, I'd no idea that many Irish words survived into the 20th Century, but that was nothing till I came across the other 256 words from Fingal, the south-west of the county and the Liberties.
Phrases include Ná bac leis (never mind), Bun os cionn (upside down), Maith go leor (OK), Trí na chéile (mixed up), Lán a’mhála (full and plenty), Bí i do thost (be silent), A Stór mo chroí, Ochón í ó (alas), Cúl a'chinn (back of the head), Magairlín meidhreach (a love potion) and Mí-ádh (bad luck).
Among the words collected were bastún (an ignorant person), cábóg (a slovenly looking man), dreas (a spell), garsún (a boy), girseach (a girl), muise (indeed), rásaí (a gad about girl), scológ (a farmer), smacht (control) and toitín (a burning ember).
There are people, including some Irish speakers, who think that Irish was never spoken in Dublin.
If that were true then it would mean that the area now comprising Dublin county was completely uninhabited before the Vikings came and that the the Vikings, Anglo-Normans and English must have gotten Irish speakers from outside Dublin to give Irish names to towns, parishes, rivers, mountains etc in the county, which they then Anglicised.
That or Irish was spoken in Dublin!
In fact there hasn't been a time since the Irish language came to Ireland that Irish hasn't been spoken in Dublin.
According to the sources I have come across native Irish speakers were to be found in rural parts of Dublin up till the end of the 19th Century and they may even have made it into the 20th, and I'll post more details on this soon.
As far as dialect goes, based on the sources I've come across I'd say that Ulster Irish was spoken in the far north of the county and a dialect similar to Connacht Irish in the rest.
In terms of living dialects I reckon the closest one to the Irish that was spoken in most of Dublin is North Mayo Irish, which is a Connacht dialect that has some Ulster influences in it.
Due to contract agreements the material from Béaloideas can't be put on the online edition of Lá Nua (www.nuacht.com) or on this blog (Béaloideas plan to put all of their old editions on the web themselves), but the other three lists are below.
They include notes on pronunciation and meaning taken by the authors and I've also added extra notes from Ó Dónaill's and Dineen's Irish-English dictionaries to some of the words.
I've included at the bottom a list of Irish words that are still used in Dublin (and there are probably others that I haven't heard myself) as well as some placenames that are interesting in terms of how Irish was pronounced by native speakers of Irish in Dublin.
Irish has also left its mark on the way Dubs speak English, for example the phrases "I do be" and "I'm after" are direct translations from Irish and we say "I tink" and "Dis and dat" instead of "I think" and "This and that" because that 'th' sound isn't found in Irish.
Another possible translation is 'An bhfuair tú do ghiota?' a phrase in the Donegal Gaeltacht that means did you have sexual relations, as Bill Clinton would say, with someone.
Translate it directly into English and you get the quintessential Dub phrase 'Did you get your bit?' which means the exact same thing.
If you want a pdf copy of the wall poster that's in the paper today send an email to colmobroin@yahoo.ie.

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Na Saoirsí (The Liberties)

An Ghaeilge i mBaile Átha Cliath (1985)
Irish in the Liberties: Máirín Mooney

Máirín Mooney started school in 1934 and said that the words below “were in use generally when I was growing up and I heard many people in Pimlico use them.”

Amadán: “He’s a right amadán.”
Banbh: “Snortin’ like a banbh.”
Bróg: “That child hasn’t a bróg on her foot.”
Bun os cionn: “Everything is bun os cionn.”
Cipín: “Throw a few cipíns on the fire.”
Cóta mór: “Put on your cóta mór.”
Dúidín: “The oul dúidín is gone out again.”
Flaithiúlach: “He’s very flaithiúlach.”
Gám: “Did you ever see such a gam?” (a fool).
Girseach: “She’s a grand girseach.”
Glic: “He’s very glic.”
Maith go leor.
Oighear: “The inside of his thighs are covered in oighear.”
Olagón: “I never heard such an ologóning.” Wailing, lamenting-Ó Dónaill.
Pus.
Ráiméis: “That’s nothing but oul ráiméis.”
Rí rá: “There was a great rí-rá altogether.”
Slíbhín: “He’s a right slíbhín.”
Smacht: “I’ll put a bit of smacht on you me bucko.”
Smidirín: “The cup is in smidiríns.”
Smut: “She has a smut (or pus) on her.”
Spailpín: “A spailpín is all he is.”
Stuacán: “She’s no stuacán anyway.” Silent, sulky person-Ó Dónaill.
Tráithnín: “I don’t give a tráithnín.” A strong stem of grass, a thing of no value-Ó Dónaill.


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Seanchill (Shankill)

Gaelic Dialect in East and Mid-Leinster (1933): Donn Piatt

“The South Dublin list was sent to me on June 12th 1933 by P. Ó Murchadha, of Bray, a native of Shankill, who got the words from his mother, a Shankill woman, and his father, a North Wicklow man, very many years ago…I called on him at Parkgate Street, Dublin in June 1933 and got him to read the list, in his own pronunciation, while I marked stress and other peculiarities.”

A Mhuirnín (Avourneen): Love, stress on 'vour'.
Aindeiseoir (Angashore): A down and out.
Amadán (Amadauon): A fool.
Báirseach (Baurshach): A barge.
Bogán (Bogaun): A bad egg.
Brosna (Brasna): Firewood.
Cáibín (Caubeen): An old hat-Ó Dónaill.
Caorán (Cawrawn): “The year of the cawrawns.” A bad year for turf-About 1863 according to a Connamara friend. Fragment, small sod of turf-Ó Dónaill.
Cianóg (Keenoge): A farthing.
Ciaróg (Keerogue): A black beetle.
Ciotóg (Kithogue): Left hand.
Cipín (Kippeen/Kippin): A stick.
Clábar (Claubar): Dirt.
Cláirín (Cloreyeen/Clorezhyeen): A street stall. Clár: Table, counter-Ó Dónaill.
Diúg: A drink. Normal slender 'd,' not 'j' sound. Drop-Ó Dónaill.
Fraochán (Fraughan): Bilberry-Ó Dónaill.
Fústar (Fooster): Fumbling.
Gáibín (Gawbeen/Gawby): A fool.
Gamaille (Gomallyeh): A fool. Gamal-Ó Dónaill.
Gíog: Sign of life. “Not a gíog out of him.” Cheep, chirp-Ó Dónaill.
Gobán (Gubbawn): An awkward workman.
Gortach (Gurtach): Greedy.
Gruama (Gromagh): Gloomy, cantankerous.
Lán a’mhála (Lawn a vawla): “You’ll get lawn a vawla.”
Leipreachán (Leprechawn/Limrachawn): A fairy.
Maoil (Mweel/Meel): A hornless cow.
Moill (Moyle): “Not a moill on him.”
Ná bac leis (Nabocklish).
Óinseach (Oenshuch): A she fool.
Paltóg (Pullthogue): A blow.
Póirín (Poreyeen): A seed potato.
Praiseach (Prashock): Yellow weed in corn. Praiseach bhuí: Charlock, field mustard-Ó Dónaill.
Raiméis (Rawmawsh): Nonsense.
Ráithín (Raheen): Small rath.
Seamróg (Shamrouge/Shamarogue): A shamrock.
Síbín (Shebeen): A place where illicit spirits are sold.
Sleán (Slane): A turf spade.
Slusaíocht (Slooader): To coax. Flattery, toadyism-Ó Dónaill.
Smidirín (Smidireen): A tiny piece.
Sram (Srawm): Matter for the eyes. Gum, mucous of eyes-Ó Dónaill.
Sraoill (Streel): An untidy woman. Bedraggled person-Ó Dónaill.
Suim (Seem): Heed, “Put no seem on it” (Shortish 'ee').
Súrán (Shoorawn): Hollowed reed used by children as pea-shooter.
Uallán (Olyawn): An awkward fool.

Words and phrases that may have come from Irish.

Geck: A look, appearance.
Rawm: To grab (from gream, ‘greim’?).


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Fair Fingall: Peter Archer (1866-1949)

Peter Archer was born in Oldtown in Fingal in 1866.
He had a keen interest in Gaelic games and was one of the founders of the Wild Geese club in Oldtown.
He was a leading member of Conradh na Gaeilge and the Irish Literary Society and he was appointed manager of An Claidheamh Soluis in 1898.

He described Fingal as “much of Dublin north of the River Tolka.”

A Théagair (Ahaygar): A word used in an affectionate or sympathetic sense, generally by women towards children. A théagair: Darling, beloved one.
Aird (Art): A place or part of the surrounding area not specifically defined. Used in the expression “I searched every art and part.”
Ais luachra (Ashlayer): Newt, lizard.
Aithris (Airishin): Mimicking another person’s speech.
Amadán (Awmadhan): A fool.
Bábhún (Bawn): A yard or enclosure adjoining a farmhouse into which cattle are taken from the fields in winter weather at night-time for shelter.
Bacach (Bockagh): Lame.
Báire (Bayrie): A goal in football or hurly.
Báirseach (Barge): A scold, find fault noisily. Corruption of báirseach. Scolding woman-Ó Dónaill.
Balbhán (Follabawn): A dumb person.
Balcaiseán (Bulkeshan): Ragwort. Buachalán-Ó Dónaill.
Barraise (Borrie): A domineering person, a bully, an upstart, an arrogant or aspiring person. Báirseoir-Ó Dónaill.
Bí i do thost (Buddahust): Be silent.
Bodhar (Bothered): Deaf, corruption of bodhar.
Breac (Brackery): Brindled or speckled.
Breis (Breash): Helping in the work of churning milk. Any person entering a farmhouse when churning in an old fashioned way (with a churn dash) was in progress was expected to assist for a moment or two at least. This help was supposed to be lucky and was termed “giving a breash.”
Broc (Brock): A badger.
Brosna (Brusna): Small dry sticks used for kindling a fire.
Buailtín (Boalkeen): That part of a flail which strikes the corn in thrashing.
Buarán (Boorans/Bookeraun): Dry cow-dung. Sometimes used as fuel.
Cabach (Cobbagh): Precocious. Cabach: Gabby. Babbling, loquacious-Ó Dónaill.
Cáibín (Caubeen): An old hat.
Caidhp báis (Kybosh): A decisive final destruction, action or judgment.
Caimseog (Gamhshowgin): Playful deceit or trickery. Fib-Ó Dónaill.
Camán (Common): A hurly, hurling.
Cár (Corr): A grimace or expression of sulleness or impudence, made by thrusting out the lips.
Casán (Causey): A footpath. Cosán/Casán-Ó Dónaill.
Ceangal (Langle): A rope used for fettering a cow or goat.
Ciaróg (Ceerogue): A beetle.
Ciotach (Cittah): Left. Used as an adjective to qualify the word fist only, eg “He has a cittah fist.”
Ciotóg (Cittogue): The left hand, a left handed person.
Clab (Clawb): A big mouth.
Clábar (Clauber): Mud.
Cliabh (Cleeve): A large basket.
Cliabhán (Cleevan): A cage trap (for birds) made with slender sticks.
Cnag (Cregg): A light (blow, knock) on the head with the knuckles of partly closed fingers.
Cnat (Cinnatt): Bargainer who through trickery gets an unfair advantage. A dodger. Gnat, Mean person-Ó Donaill.
Coigeal (Cighaul): Portion of the name of a reed, “The Fairies’ Cighaul.” Coigeal na mBan Sí. Reed Mace.
Crabhait (Kouth): A wizened, miserable looking person. Crabhait: An insignificant person. Puny, miserable creature-Ó Dónaill.
Crabhaitéal (Crowel): A decrepit person. Craibhtéal: an insignificant person. Variation of crabhait-Ó Dónaill.
Creabhar (Kirower): A gadfly, horsefly.
Crúb (Croob): The foot of a pig, goat or sheep.
Crúca an Mhada (Crockamaudha): The Dog’s Crook, a trick in wrestling.
Cruit (Crith): A hump on the back. A person with shoulders hunched in wintry weather is described as having a “crith of cold on him.”
Crup (Crub): To contract the body by bending. Crap/Crup-Ó Dónaill.
Cruptha (Crubbed): Contracted or bent. A person bent in the shoulders and at the knees owing to any cause is said to be crubbed up. The hedgehog when it assumes the spherical shape is also similarly referred to. Corruption of cruptha-warped, contracted, bent or crippled. Craptha/Cruptha-Ó Dónaill.
Cuiricín (Currikeen): The curled crest or top-knot on the plover’s head. Crest-Ó Dónaill.
Cúl a'chinn (Coolican): The back of the head.
Dallán (Dhullawn): A blind sieve, used as a measure for oats in feeding horses.
Darbhdaol (Dardheel): The Devil's Coachhorse, a species of beetle or chafer. Darbhdaol/Deargadaol-Ó Dónaill.
Deannach (Gannoch): Pollard, deannach-mill dust. Dust-Ó Dónaill.
Dona (Danny/Dawny): Delicate, weak in failing health.
Driog (Dhrig): The final drops in milking. Droplet-Ó Dónaill.
Dúdóg (Dudog): A box on the ear.
Éacht/Éachtaint (Hate): A thing, act or hint. Used in expressions as “I could not get a hate out of him”. Éacht-a deed or act, Éachtaint-an inkling or hint.
Filibín (Fillibeen): Plover. Filibín/Pilibín-Ó Dónaill.
Flaithiúlach (Flahoolagh): Generous.
Fógra Gaoithe (Foogragee): A garrulous person who cannot keep a secret and takes pleasure in disseminating news of every description, whether obtained in confidence or otherwise. From Fógra-a proclamation, Gaoth-the wind. A person so anxious to give news that failing listeners he would shout his tidings to the wind.
Fothain (Fonah): Shelter.
Fuinneog (Hinogues): Bits of broken window glass.
Fústar (Foosther): To fuss about a person obsequiously. A dog jumping around his master, waging his tail and acting as if he wanted something is said to be foosthering.
Gabhal (Goil): A forked stick used in setting the ‘cleevan’ or bird trap.
Gabhar Aerdha (Gowerairah): The jack snipe.
Gabhgaide (Gaubey): A person with an expression of intense curiosity rudely stares at others engaged in a game or occupation. Gabhgaide: One who looks on at cards, an idler. Gaper, onlooker (at cards), hanger on-Ó Dónaill.
Gad (Gad): The cord or strap which joins the bottom parts of the hames in horse harness is called the breast gad. Gad brollaigh: Breast strap-Ó Dónaill.
Gám (Gaum): A foolish person.
Gamaille (Gomeril): A fool. Gamal-Ó Dónaill.
Gamalacht (Gaumaction): Horse play, clownish tricks. Gamach-a clown. Loutishness, silliness-Ó Dónaill.
Gasún (Gossoon): A boy, up to the age of puberty.
Geamaí (Gammy): Weak eyed. Geamaighe-blear eyed (Meath). Geamach-Ó Dónaill.
Gearrán (Garron): An old horse (the word is used in a disparaging sense).
Girseach (Girsha): A young girl.
Glám (Claum/Glaum): To maul or handle anything to its detriment. To grope awkwardly with outstretched hands. To unsuccessfully attempt to grasp an evasive person e.g. “he began to glawm about in the dark.” Grab, clutch-Ó Dónaill.
Gleic (Gleek): A grip in wrestling.
Gliog (Glug): A gurgling sound such as liquid makes when being poured from a bottle. Gliog-to gurgle.
Gob (Gob): An uncomplimentary word for ‘mouth.’
Gob/Gobán (Gub/Guban): A captious critic, who professes knowledge he does not always possess. Gub and Guban are used ironically. Both words are contractions of the name of the master craftsman of ancient days the famous ‘gobán saor.’
Goiste (Goster): A friendly chat or gossip.
Gor (Gur): “On gur.” Keeping away from home because of some unpleasantness, or in order to avoid punishment for some fault. Gor: To hatch, incubate-Ó Dónaill.
Grá (Grah): Love, affection.
Griog (Greg): To tantalize.
Gríosach (Greisha): Live ashes.
Grog (Grug): A haunch.
Gruama (Grumah): Sourfaced, glum.
Hurais (Hurrish): A call to pigs at feeding time.
Lach (Leeic): Call to ducks. Lacha/Lach: Duck-Ó Dónaill.
Láine Dé (Lawneyday): An exclamation of surprise or regret. Láine Dé: Fullness or perfection of God.
Lán a’mhala (Launawalla): Abundance.
Leadair (Leddher): To beat with the hands, or with a strap, stick or other such article. Smite, beat-Ó Dónaill.
Liobar (Lybber): A hanging upper lip. Liobar: Anything placid, limp, hanging or untidy.
Lúb (Loob): A loop.
Lus na Laoch (Lusonalee): A medicinal herb, Orpine. Rosefoot-www.focal.ie.
Magh go brách/Maith go breá? (Mawgabraw): An expression used as a parting shot towards a person who having taken offence at some trivial matter, leaves his companions or home with the declaration that he is finished with old associations. Magh go brath-The field forever.
Maith go leor (Mawgalore): A good supply.
Maoilín (Mewlyeen): A naturally hornless cow, bullock or heifer.
Mar dhea (Mawryah): A word used in an ironical sense at the end of an assertation or statement, which implies that the preceding words have quite the opposite meaning. Thus “a gentleman mawyrah” means he poses as or pretends to be a gentleman, but lacks the necessary qualities.
Mealbhóg (Malavogue): To beat severely.
Midilín (Migilyeen): The band of leather or untanned horse-hide connecting the hand-staff and swingle of a flail. Thong of flail-Ó Dónaill.
Milleadh theip (Millye-hip): An unfortunate occurance. An injury, accidental or otherwise. A disastrous attempt, anything productive of disappointment, disastrous or affliction. Milleadh-Act of breaking or injury and Teip-failure, go to form this word. Milleadh teip: An injurious failure.
Muise (Mush): A grimace of contempt made by the lips being turned outwards.
Ná bac leis (Nabocklish): Never mind.
Paidrín (Podreen): A small potato. Bead, 'Bhí na prátaí ina bpaidríní ar na gais.'-Ó Dónaill.
Pisreog (Pishrogues): Superstitions, charms.
Plámás (Plaumish): Flattery.
Plásaí (Plossey): A flatterer.
Plobairsín (Plubisheen): A march marigold.
Poc (Puck): A blow with the fist.
Pocán (Pockaun): A male goat.
Práiscín (Praskeen): An apron.
Praiseach (Preshagh): A yellow-blossomed weed, 'wild mustard.' Praiseach bhuí: Field mustard-Ó Dónaill.
Prog (Prug): Word used in calling cows at a distance to come in for milking. The word is also used in speaking soothingly to a cow during milking. Progaí-Ó Dónaill.
Pus (Puss): A pout, also the mouth.
Racán (Ruckaun): A noisy quarrelsome group of persons. A boisterous company bent on mischief, also players in old-time football games who had no set places on the field but followed the ball in a group somewhat in the style of the present day rugby forwards.
Raiméis (Ramaush): Nonsensical talk.
Ránaí (Rawney): A tall, gaunt person or animal.
Rásaí (Rossie): A rude, robust, blustering female. Gadabout, vagrant-Ó Dónaill.
Sabhaircín (Summer): Primrose.
Saileach (Sally): The willow tree.
Sámhánaí (Sawny): A soft easy going person.
Sanachan (Sanacan): A farm labourer who was hired for a year and boarded and lodged by an employer was, if at the expiration of that period he suggested another situation, termed a Sanacan. The period of service always terminated on the Saturday proceeding the first Sunday in May which later was referred to as “Sanacan Sunday.” Sanacan: A person travelling to seek new quarters, the word is used in a old poem in reference to the recruits for the Irish Brigade in France in which one of the Wild Geese says in reference to himself and his companions crossing the seas. “atamoid ar an sanachan.”
Scabhat (Scrait): A passage or hole at the foot of a hedge through which a rabbit or other small animal can pass. Narrow, windy passage-Ó Dónaill.
Scaird (Scurt): A syringe. Squirt, jet, gush-Ó Dónaill.
Scalltán (Scoulthan): An unfledged bird.
Sceabhach (Skow): Slanting or awry. Skew, slanting, oblique-Ó Dónaill.
Scealp (Skelp): A blow, a splinter or piece knocked off anything. Scealp-a piece.
Sciodar (Skiddher): Purge. Sciodarnach: (Act of) scouring, scour-Ó Dónaill.
Scolb (Scollob): A splinter of wood pieces or briar put lengthwise used in thatching houses. Scolb: A splinter of wood or bone.
Scológ (Scullogue): A farmer. Scológ: A husbandman or farmer.
Scráib (Sgraub): A tear or rough scratch, with the nails of a person or animal. Scráib: a scrape or scratch.
Siúlóir (Shuler): A tramp. Itinerant-Ó Dónaill.
Slíbhín (Sleeveen): A sly underhand person.
Slim (Slim): Unleavened.
Slog (Slug): The quantity of liquid taken in a swallow or gulp.
Slusaire (Slootherer): A wheedler, a person who persuades with flattery in his own interest. Wheedler-Dineen.
Smeach (Smock): A kick. Used only in reference to a person suddenly rendered unconscious thus “There’s not a smock in him.”
Snagach (Snookin): Creeping, or moving stealthily in a crouching posture. Snagach: slow, creeping, snail like. Creeping-Ó Dónaill.
Soc (Sock): A ploughshare. Soc céachta: Ploughshare-Ó Dónaill.
Spág (Spawg): A flat or otherwise malformed foot. Spág-a long flat foot or club foot.
Sparra (Sparable): A small nail. Sparra: a nail, spike or bar. A spar, nail-Dineen.
Spéis (Pass): Notice, heed, attendence. Used in conjunction with the word put e.g., “I put no pass on him” which means “I did not notice him” or “I ignored him.”
Spideog (Spidhogue): A frail puny person. Robin, tiny child-Ó Dónaill.
Splanc (Splank): A spark, an atom.
Sraith (Sraith): A single layer of greensward turned up by the plough. Sraith-a layer, a row, a rack, a series.
Sraoill (Sthreel): A slattern, untidy woman. Bedraggled person-Ó Dónaill.
Sraoill (Sthreelin): Trailing or dragging or hanging loose in contact with the ground. Walking through wet grass is called “sthreelin” by women who have had the lower portion of their skirts saturated in the process. Ag sraoilleadh sa lathach: Trailing in the mud-Ó Dónaill.
Storc (Sthurk): A small pig of stunted growth. Piglet-Ó Dónaill.
Súgán (Suggaun): A rope of hay or straw.
Tálach (Thaulach): A pain or cramp in the muscles of the wrist due to heavy manual work. Cramp, swelling in wrist-Ó Dónaill.
Taoibhín (Theeveen): A patch on the side of a boot or shoe.
Taom (Teem): To bail water from a pool. Empty of water, pour off, bail-Ó Dónaill.
Taomach (Thaumach): Awkward, dangerous, applied to persons who have an unhappy knack of causing bodily harm to others by their actions even in play. Subject to fits, hysteical-Ó Dónaill.
Toch (Toch): Call to pigs.
Tuilleadh (Tilly): A small quantity of liquid sold by measure, given gratuitously in excess of exact measure. Tuilleadh: a further share.
Tulc (Thulk): A butt or blow given with the head. A strong blow, a prod or gore-Dinneen.

Words and phrases that may have come from Irish.

Bealin (Bíoga): A throbbing sensation of pain ina wound or sore. Indications of a tendency towards festering. Probably a corruption biodhaighe: Glór biodhaighe=a throbbing voice. Bíoga fuinnimh: Pulses of energy-Ó Dónaill.
Bellourin (Béal): Crying aloud without tears, from béal.
Bock (Bach): A wooden ball (sometimes a gnarled briar-root) used in playing camánaith. Bach: Knob.
Brave (Breá): Fine or good. Corruption of breagh. Applied to weather thus “A brave day,” “A brave bit of sunshine.” Also applied to satisfactory crops as “a brave field of potatoes” etc.
Cauthie: An irresponsible untrustworthy person.
Clockin (Clagach): As applied to brooding hens. It also applied to persons who complain a lot of ill-health on occasions. Clagach: Cackling. Clacking, clattering-Ó Dónaill.
Clousther (Clúdaithe): To cover head and shoulders with clothing, as protection from the weather. Probably a corruption of clúdtha=covered, hidden or protected.
Cuckle (Coicil): The burdock, Coicil: the common burdock.
Dawk (Dealg): A prickle or spine of a thorn. A Fingallian getting a prod from one of these prickles describes it as a “prod of a dawk.” This word may be Danish. 'Dalkey' is accepted as a Danish word meaning 'Thorn Island.'
Dhur (Dorn): A blow with the fist.
Dowhder: A blow with the fist on the ear.
Ferrin (Fírinneach): The first sod, scratch or mark made by the plough in a field when is it being broken. Probably from fírinneach: True, straight. Should the 'ferrin' not be straight the succeeding sods will also be 'out of truth' as the local saying is.
Gaulogah: A leech.
Gug (Guagach): A short jerky motion up and down, waddling like a duck. Guagach: unsteady, unstable, wavering-Ó Dónaill.
Loothy (Lodartha): A slovenly, uncouth person. Grovelling, abject, base, vulgar-Ó Dónaill.
Missed (Mhothaghas): Noticed, perceived. Probably a corruption of the Gaelic word Mothuigeas. Used thus, “I never missed him till he was up beside me,” “You don’t miss the time passing,” “After 12th day you can miss the days getting longer.”
Mossy diemens (An mbás an deamhain): A mild expletive used thus, “by the mossy demons.” This is probably a corruption of ‘An mbás an deamhain,’ by the demon's death.
Pastin: A beating, Péastáilim: I beat.
Racker (Réisteoir): A kind of horse boy possessed of speed, stamina and knowledge of a district in which he operates, attends a hunt and follows the riders on foot for the purpose of assisting (for due recompence) riders who may get in difficulties by being thrown from their horses. He also opens gates, removes obstacles for the benefits of a certain class of horseman. Probably a corruption réisteoir: a reliever.
Reaf (Réabadh): A considerable rent in a garment, a gagged lengthy tear, to tear a fabric in two parts with a forceful wrench of the hands is called “reafin it asunder.” Réabadh: act of tearing.
Scrabble (Scrabhadh): A confused struggle on the ground by several persons for the possession of some article (such as a coin) thrown at the feet, Scrabhadh: Scratching-Ó Dónaill.
Shan (Sean): A dwarf in a family of otherwise well grown persons. Amongst animals and poultry one of a litter or brood which is much smaller than any of its companions is called “the shan,” meaning probably the old one whose growth is finished.
Sliddher (Sliodarnach): To skip or slide. Sliodarnach: sliding.
Smaddhered (Smachtaithe): Beaten, defeated, severely punished. (from) Smachtuigthe.
Spang (Spreang): A long running stride over an obstacle. Spreang: a spring, jump-Ó Dónaill.
Sthaddlin (Stad): A foundation of stone, thorns or bushes on which ricks and stacks of hay and corn are built. Probably a corruption of stad, a stop or station.
Sthawmin (Stabhaíl): Walking awkwardly. Probably a corruption of stabhghail: limping. Stabhaíl-Ó Dónaill.
Towelt (Toghail): A resounding blow, a bang. “The towelt of the flail on the barn floor,” “The towelt of a drum.” Toghail: sack, destroy-Ó Dónaill.
Wangle (Ceangal): A small bundle of straw used in thatching corn ricks.

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Irish words that are still used in Dublin.

Bábóg (Babóg): Baby or young child. Doll-Ó Dónaill.
Buachaill
Flaithiúlach
Gor
Mar dhea
Meig
Plámás
Ráiméis
Rí-rá agus ruaille buaille
Slíbhín
Slog
Smig

Phrases/words that come from Irish.

He does be-Bíonn sé
I'm after-Táim tar éis
Youse/Yiz-Sibh
Yizer-Bhúr
To fall out of you standing-Titim as do sheasamh
Did you get you bit-An bhfuair tú do ghiota

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Dublin Placenames

Here are some place names that are interesting in terms of pronunciation

Crockshane-Cnoc Sheáin
Crooksling-Cnoc Slinne
Crockaundreenagh-Cnocán Draigheanach
Glendoo-Gleann Dubh
Skidoo-Sceach Dubh