arán is airgead beo

Seo “oideas” a bhreac duine eile síos ar leathanach bán ag deireadh leabhrán Philip Bhallaigh. Tá a pheannaireacht amscaí, ach tá a litriú réasúnta maith agus níl a chuid Gaeilge deacair a thuiscint. Tá nod amháin ann atá sách suimiúil. D'fhág mo dhuine an focal “bheith” ar lár sa dara líne. Nuair a thug sé an botún seo faoi deara chuir sé caret cosúil le " faoin mbearna agus scríobh sé an focal ag barr an leathanaigh mar seo: "b7" . Seasann an nod “7” do "agus” na Gaeilge agus do “et” na Laidine, mar sin is ionann “b7” agus “bet”, .i. “beith”.

Adirtear da madh maith

re duini arán do beith ag

éirghe do bhórd gurap

amlaidh is coir dhó puill

bhega do denam ann a thaoph

7 airgiod beó do cur inta 7

a ndunadh go maith 7 go

dtugann sin air an arán eir[-]

ge don bord.

Ach cad is ciall le “go dtugann sin ar an arán éirí den / don bhord”? An é an chaoi gur saghas asarlaíochta atá i gceist anseo? Ní luíonn sé sin le réasún.

Is féidir go bhfuil cuid den fhreagra ar fáil sa sliocht seo as an úrscéal Huckleberry Finn, an clasaiceach Meiriceánach le Mark Twain:

I was powerful lazy and comfortable -- didn't want to get up and cook breakfast. Well, I was dozing off again when I thinks I hears a deep sound of "boom!" away up the river. I rouses up, and rests on my elbow and listens; pretty soon I hears it again. I hopped up, and went and looked out at a hole in the leaves, and I see a bunch of smoke laying on the water a long ways up -- about abreast the ferry. And there was the ferryboat full of people floating along down. I knowed what was the matter now. "Boom!" I see the white smoke squirt out of the ferryboat's side. You see, they was firing cannon over the water, trying to make my carcass come to the top.

I was pretty hungry, but it warn't going to do for me to start a fire, because they might see the smoke. So I set there and watched the cannon-smoke and listened to the boom. The river was a mile wide there, and it always looks pretty on a summer morning -- so I was having a good enough time seeing them hunt for my remainders if I only had a bite to eat. Well, then I happened to think how they always put quicksilver in loaves of bread and float them off, because they always go right to the drownded carcass and stop there. So, says I, I'll keep a lookout, and if any of them's floating around after me I'll give them a show. I changed to the Illinois edge of the island to see what luck I could have, and I warn't disappointed. A big double loaf come along, and I most got it with a long stick, but my foot slipped and she floated out further. Of course I was where the current set in the closest to the shore -- I knowed enough for that. But by and by along comes another one, and this time I won. I took out the plug and shook out the little dab of quick- silver, and set my teeth in. It was "baker's bread" -- what the quality eat; none of your low-down corn-pone.