Thre monke diden the world forsake.
Thei goon in a wyldernesse in penaunce of her synnes byforn god.
Ful a yeer weren thei with outen speeche.
Ones that a twelmonthe was agon oon of hem spak unto his felawe:
“Wel is us,” quod he.
So kepte hemselve for a nothere yeer:
“Ful wel in dede,” quod the nexte man.
Thei weren thennes yet a nothere yeer in that place.
“I swere by myn abyt,” quod the thridde man, “if ye ne wolle yeven me noght quyete, I yow yive the hool wyldernesse.”
Níl saineolas agam ar an Meán-Bhéarla, ach léigh mé cuid de na Canterbury Tales sa bhunteanga. Thabharfainn an leabhar gurb é Chaucer é féin a bhreac síos an leagan thuas. Go raibh míle maith agat, a Bhriain!
Tráth dá raibh sí ina hollamh le Béarla, mhúin mo chéile ionúin Canterbury Tales agus iad sa bhunleagan, ní aistrithe go Béarla an lae inniu. Adhmholadh aici d’aistriúchán Brian Boll. Sár-jab!!
ReplyDeleteTá súil agam go mbeidh sé ar shuíomh na Manach go luath. Tá mé tar éis é a chur ar aghaidh chuig Caoimhín Ó Donnaíle, “Ríomhchláraitheoir na Manach”.
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