Some comments upon the Irish military oath

The Irish military oath for officers of the permanent defence force has the following wording:

Mionnaímse/Dearbhaímse [name], go solamanta go mbead dílis d’Éirinn agus tairiseach don Bhunreacht agus, faid a bhead im oifigeach de na Buan-Óglaigh, go gcomhlíonfad gach ordú dleathach a bhéarfas m’oifigigh uachtaracha dhom agus nach gceanglód le haon eagraíocht nó cumann polaitíochta ná le haon chumann rúnda ar bith ná nach mbead im chomhalta den chéanna ná nach dtaobhód leis an gcéanna.

In English, the same oath is as follows:

I [name] do solemnly swear/declare that I will be faithful to Ireland and
loyal to the Constitution and that while I am an officer of the Permanent Defence
Force I will obey all lawful orders issued to me by my superior officers and will not
join or be a member of or subscribe to any political organisation or society or any
secret society whatsoever.

(Source: Defence Act 1954, section 43, sixth schedule.)

The Irish text is not bad as it is, but personally I take issue with certain aspects of it:

  • The form solamanta. “Solemn” is in today’s Irish sollúnta, and I think I have only met solamanta in this particular text (although I guess it is also mentioned as an alternative form in Ó Dónaill’s dictionary).
  • The use of such forms as bead “I will be”, ceanglód “I will join”, comhlíonfad “I will keep/obey/observe”, taobhód “I will side (with)”. Personally, I would prefer beidh mé, ceanglóidh mé, comhlíonfaidh mé, taobhóidh mé. The synthetic form of the first person singular future tense feels a little too Munster these days.
  • The word tairiseach. I have only met it as a noun, in the sense of a mathematical or physical constant. Well, of course it does exist as an adjective, and you find it in dictionaries, but you practically never see it in either native folklore or native literature. The Irish text is obviously a translation from the English one, and as the English text uses two different words – “faithful” and “loyal” – the translator felt compelled to do so, too. However, I’d prefer to just say dílis d’Éirinn agus don bhunreacht. Another possibility would be to use urramach or a related word for variation: go mbeidh mé dílis d’Éireann agus go dtabharfaidh mé urraim don Bhunreacht.
  • The use of céanna as a standalone pronoun. Usually we find this only in the idiomatic expression mar an gcéanna. It is not wrong to use an céanna as a standalone pronoun (this usage is mentioned in Ó Dónaill), but it is far more typical and natural to use it in an adjective attribute position (an rud ćeanna and so on). Instead of leis an gcéanna, den chéanna I would prefer lena leithéid, dá leithéid.
  • Bhéarfas is a form of tabhair!/tabhairt, and in the present standard language it would be thabharfaidh (because standard Irish does not acknowledge either the direct relative form of the verb or the b(h)éar- stem of the verb tabhair). Personally, I’d prefer to keep the direct relative -s, though – thabharfas. I don’t think bhéarfas is wrong, but combining the -s relative form (in my opinion, especially typical of Ulster and Connacht) with such synthetic forms as ceanglód, bead and so on in the same text feels stylistically awkward, noting that those synthetic forms are mainly Munster Irish.
  • The use of ceangail!/ceangal le… for joining a society sounds kind of funny to me, too. I’d say simply dul i…, which is the usual way to refer to joining a society. Thus: nach rachaidh mé in aon eagraíocht ná in aon chumann polaitíochta ná in aon chumann rúnda ar bith… Note though that I find cumann polaitíochta much better than cumann polaitiúil. Nowadays they would sure translate “a political society” as cumann polaitiúil, which at least originally used to be more literary and less straightforward style than cumann polaitíochta. The Irish way is to use a genitive attribute – dochtúir mná is better Irish for “a female doctor” than dochtúir baineann, and cumann polaitíochta is better Irish than cumann polaitiúil. (In fact, I’d say there is a subtle difference between cumann polaitíochta and cumann polaitiúil. The first one is a political organization which is explicitly meant to be political and has political aims. The other one is an organization that has other than political aims – theoretically – but that has been politicized. For instance, think of a situation where there are two Irish-language organization, one of which is only an Irish-language one, while the other one has been hijacked by a political party. Then the first one would be spoken of as an cumann neamhpholaitiúil, the one as an cumann polaitiúil.)
  • Comhalta rather than ball for the member of a society or organization is quite correct, you don’t see it too often these days.


In my own variety of Irish, I would suggest:

Mise, Seán Ó Rudaí/Síle Ní Rudaí, mionnaím/dearbhaím go sollúnta go mbeidh mé dílis d’Éirinn agus go dtabharfaidh mé urraim don Bhunreacht; agus, fad is a bheas mé i m’oifigeach de chuid na mBuan-Óglach, go gcomhlíonfaidh mé gach ordú dleathach a thabharfas mo chuid oifigeach uachtarach dom, agus, nach rachaidh mé in aon eagraíocht nó cumann polaitíochta ná in aon rúnchumann, nach mbeidh mé i mo chomhalta d’eagraíocht ar bith den chineál sin, agus nach dtabharfaidh mé tacaíocht dá leithéid.

One thing more: joining an organization as a member is in Irish dul i…, but taking its stance is dul le… Chuaigh sé i bPáirtí na Polaitíochta means that he joined the Political Party, but chuaigh sé le Páirtí na Polaitíochta means that he only shared its stance. (I use here Páirtí na Polaitíochta or the Political Party for a generic political party.) If I could work out a way to do it elegantly, I’d attempt to use these constructions in my translation. However, ní rachaidh mé i ná le haon eagraíocht… does not sound elegant, and ní rachaidh mé in aon eagraíocht…ná ní rachaidh mé lena leithéid is not good style either. I’ll work on this yet.

However, while my suggestion is more intelligible and colloquial than the official one, I don’t say it couldn’t be further improved. And, while the official one could be streamlined, there is also the argument that if a ceremonial text is not blatantly wrong, it should not be altered, because the old-fashioned style is part of a tradition. The military oath might be stylistically peculiar, but if you are an Irish army officer with fluent and good Irish and still insist on the official text for such reasons, then you are probably right and I am wrong. I am not a military man myself, and I don’t want to come across as somebody who’d teach his dad how to make babies.




Natural placement of explanatory relative sentence

The expression “explanatory relative sentence” means here such relative sentences as “the man who spoke to you“, i.e. the man who is defined by the fact that he spoke to you, what we know about him (to start with) is the fact that he spoke to you.

Let’s say, for instance, “The man who spoke to you wrote this novel”. In Irish, this translates into Scríobh an fear a labhair leat an t-úrscéal seo. That’s fine, but the explanatory relative clause is here inside the main clause: Scríobh an fear [a labhair leat] an t-úrscéal seo. In this example it is easy enough to tell the relative clause from the main clause, but in long and complicated sentences it might become more difficult.

Instead, it is advisable to write:

An fear a labhair leat, scríobh sé an t-úrscéal seo “The man who spoke to you, he wrote this novel”

More examples:

An bhean atá ag canadh amhráin, is léise an gluaisteán úd thall “The automobile over there belongs to the lady who is singing” (“The woman who is singing, the automobile over there belongs to her”)

An chuid ba mhó de na scríbhneoirí Sóivéadacha a chuaigh ag scríobh úrscéalta i ndiaidh an chogaidh, bhí siad ina n-iriseoirí cathéadain lena linn “Most of the Soviet writers who went to write war novels after the war were front journalists during it.”

An fear a chéadcheap Teoiric na Coibhneasachta, is é sin Albert Einstein, chaith sé tréimhse ag obair in Oifig na bPaitinní san Eilvéis. “The man who invented the theory of relativity, that is, Albert Einstein, – he spent some time working in the Swiss Patent Office.”



Main Difficulties

I don’t suggest it is easy to learn good Irish. Not being a native speaker of English, my idea of what is difficult in Irish is obviously different from that of most learners, but speaking of purely practical difficulties, I’d like to note the following:

  • The dialectal differences, of course. People often exaggerate them, especially those people who try to find any convenient excuse not to learn Irish. However, they are there, and they complicate the acquisition of Irish. There is a recognized linguistic, or sociolinguistic, phenomenon called schizoglossia. In a schizoglossic situation, you don’t know which kind of language you should see as exemplary and normative, and you have this feeling that whatever you say, it will be wrong according to some norm. This phenomenon especially concerns diaspora minorities, for whom the language they habitually speak will be full of borrowings from the local language, but who at the same time often find the linguistic changes in the old country vulgar and distasteful. Analogies with Irish should be obvious; in a way, the Irish-speakers are a diaspora in their own country.
  • The abundance of bad examples. Publicly displayed Irish in Ireland is often plain wrong, and when it is not grammatically incorrect, it is too obviously translated from English. For instance, the dead word rochtain is far too often used as a catch-all for all the meanings of the English word access. However, it should be limited to where a special term is called for (accessing a computer network, for instance), instead of calling every door an “access” to the building. Of course, the ultimate problem here is the stupid way how English nowadays tries to express the most everyday things with Latinate abstractions, and then people translating into Irish but without much idea of how Irish really works think that they need a special Irish word for every hard word in English, instead of translating the highfalutin’ English into plain and intelligible Irish.
  • Bad teaching materials. It is very good that people use Learning Irish, because it is vintage Gaeltacht Irish. But as my little spies have told me, it does occur that reading materials for schools often intentionally depart from acceptable Irish, using instead their own pidgin. An example of this is a (printed and officially distributed) book which consequently used past tense instead of habitual past tense. This is so wrong that it should be punishable with death. If children haven’t been taught the habitual past yet, there are grammatically legal workarounds (for example using the conditional instead – there are dialects where conditional has ousted the habitual past – as well as the expression ba ghnách le [duine] [rud] a dhéanamh: bhíodh sé ag obair ansin = ba ghnách leis a bheith ag obair ansin “he used to work there”). But learning materials should never include anything grammatically incorrect.
  • Bad cultural priorities. We are constantly told to admire “modernist” authors who are no native speakers and whose “modernist experimentation” is just a way to conceal the fact that – to put it brutally – they couldn’t write anything near Gaeltacht Irish to save their lives. At the same time, there are excellent writers of popular fiction whose novels have never been reprinted since their first publication back in the fifties or sixties. In the nineties, Cló Iar-Chonnacht rediscovered and reprinted Máire Nic Artáin, which is a linguistically superb novel about a Catholic girl falling in love with a Protestant boy in Belfast. When I read it for the first time, I was completely lost for words: how was it possible that such a book hadn’t been reprinted for almost forty years, while everybody had been kvetching about how there are no books for young people in the language? For Chrissake, if people like me read Joan Lingard’s Kevin and Sadie novels with interest in Finland when young, how is it possible that young Irish people wouldn’t read Máire Nic Artáin? And it’s not the only example. Seán Ó Mulláin’s swashbuckling historical novels about the Ryan family are still waiting to be reprinted. So is Mícheál Ó hOdhráin’s Cine Cróga.

Some more thoughts about reading and learning

When you learn Irish, the goal is to become perfectly fluent. Not Gaeilge bhriste, but Gaeilge chliste. The very idea of reviving the Irish language is about reviving it as an authentic language. This means that you are supposed to have as good a command of it as an average Irish intellectual would have in an alternative reality where Ireland still was an Irish-speaking nation. For this, you will need to re-enact the personal linguistic development of that alternative-reality person. This might sound scary, but it is actually easier than for many threatened languages, because in Irish there is a wealth of folklore and native autobiographies available. In fact, the reading list I published here can only scratch the surface.

If you were born in an Irish-speaking Ireland, the first things you’d learn in the language would be children’s folklore. There is a lot of this stuff available in the folklore collections. Other folklore is to be recommended too.

There is another reason why I speak so much about folklore as a source of good Irish. In a community where literacy in the native language is unknown, but where there is a thriving oral culture of storytelling, the storyteller and the tradition-bearer is the best equivalent to the writer and author in a literary society. The best native writers of Irish were born to stpryteller familias. Thus, if you want to learn the kind of Irish that was appreciated by the last monolingual native speakers as the best traditional Irish, you mut learn the storytellers’ Irish. This is also why Peig used to be taught to learners. She was the daughter of a storytelling family, and a renowned storyteller and tradition-keeper herself.

Now of course somebody will start kvetching about how Peig, or Gaeltacht literature in general, has nothing in common with modern life. I beg to differ. I have translated Isaac Asimov into Irish, I have written popular science in Irish. The language I needed for writing popular science I learnt reading folklore and native writers. I did need to look up the terms in specialist dictionaries, yes. But the rest, the system of the language, came from the folklore.

That folklore is the literature of the last custodians of the traditional language, the Gaeltacht people. As a student and learner of the language, you are their servant, you are the caretaker of their heritage. Myself, I am but a servant of theirs.

A list of alliterative runs in traditional Irish

Alliterative runs are a feature of traditional Irish style, and you will find at least some of them in any book written by a native speaker or collected from native storytellers and tradition-keepers. So, if you want to give your Irish a traditional polish, here is a list of such runs you can study. Some are chains of adjectives, some are combinations of nouns, some of a noun and one or more adjectives.

Cuid de stíl thraidisiúnta na Gaeilge iad na ruthaig uamacha, agus tiocfaidh tú orthu i ngach leabhar le scríbhneoir a bhfuil an teanga ó dhúchas aige agus i ngach bailiúchán béaloidis a breacadh síos ó bhéalaithris na scéalaithe is na seanchaithe dúchasacha. Mar sin, más maith leat snas na teanga traidisiúnta a chur ar do chuid Gaeilge, is féidir leat staidéar a dhéanamh ar an liosta seo thíos. Cuid de na ruthaig seo is slabhraí d’aidiachtaí iad, cuid eile acu is ainmfhocail iad a bhfuil baint chomhréire éigin acu le chéile, cuid eile arís is éard atá iontu ná ainmfhocal agus aidiachta(í) á leanúint.

BEAG – BROSANTA – BLÁFAR: Bean bheag bhrosanta bhláfar ab ea í. (Sayers 1998, p. 146)

BOIGE – BREÁTHACHT: Ach de réir mar a bhíonn an t-earrach ag imeacht bíonn an aimsir ag dul i mboige agus i mbreáthacht. (Ó Cadhlaigh 2013, p. 52)

BREÁ – BOG: Tá an aimsir breá bog cneasta, buíochas le Dia. (Ó Cadhlaigh 2013, p. 51)

BREÁ – BROTHALLACH: Bíonn an uain go breá brothallach… (Ó Cadhlaigh 2013, p. 53)

BREÁ – BUÍ: …roimh dheireadh an tsamhraidh bíonn an t-arbhar go breá buí… (Ó Cadhlaigh 2013, p. 54)

BRÍOMHAR – BEATHAITHE: Bíonn sé go bríomhar beathaithe, lúth is neart ina ghéaga… (Ó Cadhlaigh 2013, p. 23)

BRISTE – BRÚITE: …thógadar gach corp briste brúite… (Ó Dubhda 2011, p. 94)

BRISTECHROÍOCH – BRÓNACH: B’éigean do imeacht agus bóthar na coda eile do thabhairt air go bristechroíoch agus go brónach. (Sayers 1998, p. 161. Of course it should be b’éigean dó…, and bóthar na coda eile a thabhairt air, but the source uses a very dialectal orthography.)

BRÓN – BRISEADH CROÍ: Bhí sé sásta go leor ansan, cé go raibh brón agus briseadh croí air féin. (Sayers 1998, p. 163)

BRUÍON – BEARRADH: …gan iad a bheith ag bruíon is ag bearradh ar feadh na tráthnóna. (Ó Dubhda 2011, p. 88)

CAM – CAIMILÉIREACH: Is cam caimiléireach a tháinig siad ar an saibhreas. (Ó Conaire 1970, p. 23)

CAS – CANCRACH: …ní haon ionadh é bheith go gruama brónach agus go cas cancrach. (Ó Cadhlaigh 2013, p. 23)

CASACHT – CÁRSÁN: Bhuail casacht is cársán é. (Ó Conaire 1970, p. 24)

CÍORADH – CEANGAILT: Bhí sé cos-nochtaithe agus ceann-nochtaithe, agus a mhothall ciarghruaige gan cíoradh gan ceangailt. (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 13)

CÍORADH – CUR TRÍ CHÉILE: [Is iomaí] rud a cíoradh agus a cuireadh trí chéile an tráthnóna úd cois na tine. (Sayers 1998, p. 135)

CÍOS – CÁS – CATHÚ: …is me [= agus mé] go hóg aerach, gan cíos cás cathú orm an uair sin. (Sayers 1998, p. 155)

CIÚIN – CIALLMHAR: Do bhí buachaill ciúin ciallmhar chun féachaint im dhiaidh...(Sayers 1998, p. 137)

CIÚIN – CNEASTA: Bhí an Mhaol féin chomh ciúin chomh cneasta san is gur dhóigh leat nár dhein sí díobháil ná dochar...(Sayers 1998, p. 155)

CRÁITE – CÉASTA: Sea, is go bhfuilimse féin cráite céasta le méid a bradaíle féin. (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 11)

CRUATAN – CEALGAIREACHT: […] b’fhuirist a aithint air nár bhain pioc de chruatan ná de chealgaireacht an tsaoil fós leis. (Ó Dubhda 2011, p. 15. Fuirist is a form of furasta ‘easy’ you see in Munster literature.)

CRUINN – CÚRAMACH: Mar cuirim chun oibriú na feirme mar is ceart go cruinn is go cúramach. (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 9)

CUMTHA – CÓRACH: …agus é go cumtha córach. (Ó Cadhlaigh 2013, p. 23)

DATHÚIL – DEA-CHRAICINN: Bíonn sé go dathúil dea-chraicinn. (Ó Cadhlaigh 2013, p. 23. Note that dathúil is an adjective, dea-chraicinn is a noun in genitive case.)

DEALBH – DÓLÁSACH: Teaghlach Dealbh Dólásach (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 13)

DÍCHEALLACH – DEA-IOMPRACH: Bhí cuid acu dícheallach dea-iomprach ag iarraidh iad féin is a gclanna a ardú as an bpoll salachair… (Ó Dubhda 2011, p. 40)

DIL – DÚTHRACHTACH: …phóg sí go dil dúthrachtach é. (Sayers 1998, p. 147)

DÍOBHÁIL – DOCHAR: Bhí an Mhaol féin chomh ciúin chomh cneasta san is gur dhóigh leat nár dhein sí díobháildochar(Sayers 1998, p. 155)

DÍOCHRA – DÚTHRACHTACH: …tá Maighistir Seán Carsuel, Ministir Shoiscéal Dé ag guí agus ag géar-atach Dé go díochra dúthrachtach fá spiorad an ghlicis agus na tuisceana agus na fírinne a neartú... (Ó Doibhlin 2006, p. 35)

DÍREACH – DAINGEAN: ”Ní fhanfaidh mé ar ao’ chor”, arsa sé go díreach daingean. (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 16)

DÚR – DOICHEALLACH: Tá an long ag teannadh aniar leis na Sceirdí dúra doicheallacha…(Ó Conaire 1970, p. 16)

DÚTHRACHTACH – DÁIRÍRE: [D]úirt [siad] go dúthrachtach dáiríribh an phaidir álainn ghlórmhar… (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 18. Dáiríribh is a common parallel form of dáiríre)

FAGHAIRT NA FEIRGE: Is beag duine sa mórchomhluadar meidhreach sa halla nár mhothaigh fiuchadh fola ina fhéitheacha, agus faghairt na feirge ina chroí… (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 2)

FIALCHROBH – FÁILTIÚIL: Líon sé amach dhá thaoscán le fialchrobh fáiltiúil, óir bhí sé féin súgach cheana féin. (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 7)

FIUCHADH FOLA: Is beag duine sa mórchomhluadar meidhreach sa halla nár mhothaigh fiuchadh fola ina fhéitheacha, agus faghairt na feirge ina chroí... (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 2)

FÓGAIRT – FOLÁIREAMH: Do dhruid an leathchomhla gan fógairt gan foláireamh… (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 19)

FUAR – FLIUCH – FIÁIN: …bíonn tosach an earraigh go fuar fliuch fiáin… (Ó Cadhlaigh 2013, p. 52)

FUARLEACA FÍORÍOCHTAIR [IFRINN]: Glan leat as mo radharc a bhitch agus síos go fuarleaca fíoríochtair ifrinn leat!  (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 3. I’d prefer to capitalize Ifrinn, because Ifreann ‘Hell’ is in Irish usually treated as a proper noun, being definite without definite article.)

GÁBH – GUAISEACHT: …gan féachaint do chontúirt ná do ghábh ná do ghuaiseacht dá raibh oraibh… (Ó Doibhlin 2006, p. 36. Both gábh and guaiseacht mean ‘danger’, although they might be less common than dainséar, contúirt and baol. In my opinion, though, gábhadh and guais are the more common forms of these words today, at least in modern Ulster Irish literature.)

GAFA – GLÉASTA:  Agus níorbh iontaí liom an sneachta dearg ná an fear breá dathúil a fheiceáil istigh ar an urlár agam; teanga bhreá Ghaeilge aige; é gafa gléasta. (Ó Conaire 1970, p. 28)

GAOTH – GARBHSHÍON: …cnuasaítear iad sula dtagann gaoth agus garbhshíon an gheimhridh. (Ó Cadhlaigh 2013, p. 55.)

GARBH – GLASCHAORACH: Bhí culaith gharbh ghlaschaorach air…(Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 13)

LAG – LÚBACH: Is suarach an mac a d’fhágfadh a mháthair, atá lag lúbach, léi féin… (Ó Conaire 1970, p. 12)

LEATHAN – LÁIDIR: …a bhrollach is a ghuaillí go leathan láidir... (Ó Cadhlaigh 2013, p. 23)

LOM – LÁNDÓITE: Na beithígh nárbh fholáir a choimeád istigh sa dúluachair bíonn siad ar a gcúilín seamrach ag iníor (fosaíocht) dóibh féin sna páirceanna glasa a bhí go lom lándóite i rith an gheimhridh. (Ó Cadhlaigh 2013, p. 53)

LUATH – LÁIDIR: An duine a bhíonn go luath láidir... (Ó Cadhlaigh 2013, p. 23)

MAITHEAS – MAITH: Nuair a thángthas go dtí an cúigiú corp mheas na daoine ná raibh maitheasmaith leis an iniúchadh. (Ó Dubhda 2011, p. 95)

MAORGA MÓRÁLACH: Ba dhóigh leat gur túisce a bhí an fhéasóg ann ná an fear maorga mórálach ar leis í. (Ó Conaire 1970, p. 17)

MEADHRÁN – MEARATHAILL: Bhailigh an tseana-bhean a seál timpeall a seangchoirp s[h]noite is thriall go bacach i dtreo dhoras an bhotháin, mar neach go mbeadh meadhrán mearathaill air is ná mothódh ach ar éigin go raibh sé beo (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 15)

MEIRBH – MÁNLA: …d’fhreagair an tseana-bhean go meirbh mánla… (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 19)

MÍN – MARBH: Nuair a chonac arís é bhí sé mín marbh. (Sayers 1998, p. 158. Chonac is the Munster synthetic form for ‘I saw’, chonaic mé in other dialects.)

MIONN – MÓID: …thug sé mionn agus móid a bheith suas leis lá éigin. (Ó Dubhda 2011, p. 49. Both words mean ”oath, pledge”.)

MÓR – MAISEACH: Dá mbeadh sé d’ádh ar Éirinn go mba thír mhór í, agus rialtas dá chuid féin a bheith ag Ros na gCloch faoin bpríomh-Rialtas, é a bheith ina limistéar mór maiseach saibhir, agus dá mbeifí ag brath ar phrionsa nó ar sheanascal a thoghadh le breithiúnas a thabhairt ar cheisteanna móra tábhachtacha a bheadh ag dul idir comhairleoirí agus codladh na hoíche, is ar Éamann Rua a leagfá lámh. (Ó Conaire 1970, p. 18)

MÓRCHOMHLUADAR MEIRGEACH: Is beag duine sa mórchomhluadar meidhreach sa halla nár mhothaigh fiuchadh fola ina fhéitheacha, agus faghairt na feirge ina chroí… (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 2. Personally, I would prefer sa mhórchomhluadar mheidhreach, writing standard Irish. Note that fiuchadh fola alliterates, too.)

MÚCHTA – MARBH: Bíonn muintir na gcathrach agus na mbailte móra múchta marbh ag an teas míchuibhseach…(Ó Cadhlaigh p. 53.)

OIRIRC – ONÓRACH: Nós oirirc onórach atá fós agus a bhí riamh i bhfeidhm ag na daoine… (Ó Doibhlin p. 35)

SÓNTA – SOTALACH: Mura muid atá sónta sotalach, arsa Labhras go doicheallach. (Ó Conaire 1970, p. 26)

SOS – SÍOCHÁIN: Leanais den phlámás is den mhealladh go dtí gur aontaíos, sa deireadh, ar son sosa is síochána. (Ó Dubhda 2011, p. 17.)

SUAIMHNEAS – SÍOCHÁIN: Bhí gach rud chun suaimhnis is síochána ach an t-aon rud amháin. (Ó Dubhda 2011, p. 82)

SUAITE – SCAMHAITE: …cé go ndéarfadh daoine gur mithid don phlaosc chéanna bheith suaite scamhaite ó thonnta tréana borba na farraige… (Sayers 1998, p. 155)

SÚGACH – SULTMHAR: Bhí sé súgach; bhí sé sultmhar. (Ó Dubhda 2011, p. 31)

SUIM – STUACAÍOCHT: Líon an tiarna gloine eile amach dó, agus é ag bíogadh le neart suime agus stuacaíochta. (Ó Fiannúsa 2008, p. 8)

TALAMH – TIARNAS: Níl talamhtiarnas ann. (Sayers 1998, p. 162)

TOIRBHIRT – TÍOLACADH: …ar an ábhar sin chonacthas domsa gurbh indéanta dom an saothar beag seo […] a thoirbhirt agus a thíolacadh duitse, a thiarna… (Ó Doibhlin 2006, p. 36)

TOIRT – TÉAGAR: Ba mhíol mór ar trá é le toirt is téagar. (Ó Conaire 1970, p. 21)


”Ó Cadhlaigh 2013”: Ó Cadhlaigh, Cormac: Slí an Eolais agus Eagna an Ghaeil. Evertype, Cathair na Mart 2013

”Ó Conaire 1970”: Ó Conaire, Pádhraic Óg: Éan Cuideáin. Oifig an tSoláthair, Baile Átha Cliath 1970

”Ó Doibhlin 2006”: Ó Doibhlin, Breandán: Manuail de Litríocht na Gaeilge. Faisicil II. Litríocht le linn an Choncais, 1536-1616. Coiscéim, Baile Átha Cliath 2006

“Ó Dubhda 2011”: Seán a’ Chasáin (= Ó Dubhda, Seán): An Mairtíneach le Seán a’ Chasáin, Coiscéim, Baile Átha Cliath 2011

“Ó Fiannúsa 2008”:  Ó Fiannúsa, Pádraig: Ghaibh a Leithéid an tSlí Tráth. Cló Chois Móire, Port Láirge 2008

“Sayers 1998”: Peig, A Scéal Féin. Eagarthóirí: Máire Ní Mhainnín, Liam P. Ó Murchú. An Sagart, An Daingean 1998.