Saoghal Dorcha nan Speuclairean	The Dark World of the Glasses
Bhuannaich Mòr Love duais sgrìobhaidh a chaidh a chumail do dh'oileanaich Cùrsa Bogaidh Gàidhlig Bhruach Chluaidh. Seo an sgeul bharrail aice, agus cuid dhe na dealbhannan a tharraing Mòr fhèin an cois na sgeòil. 'Sann an cruth litreach air a cur bho Ward 2, Ospadal Ràthaig Mhòr, Inbhir Nis air 15 Giblean 1948 a tha i.	Marion Love won a writing competition recently held for students attending the Clydebank College Gaelic Immersion Course. Here is her excellent story, along with some of the accompanying illustrations drawn by Marion herself. The story is in the form of a letter sent from Ward 2, Raigmore Hospital, Inverness on 15 April 1948.
J. D. Williams The Dale St Warehouse Manchester Sasainn	J. D. Williams The Dale St Warehouse Manchester England
A Sheonaidh Dhòmhnaill, a charaid,	Dear John Donald,
Tha mi a' sgrìobhadh seo bho mo leabaidh ann an Ward a Dhà Ospadal Ràthaig Mhòr. "Car son a tha mi 'seo?" Tha mi a' dol a dh'innse dhut an-dràsta!	I am writing this from my bed in Ward Two of Raigmore Hospital. "Why am I here?" I'm going to tell you that right now!
Nach do cheannaich mi na speuclairean gòrach a chunnaic mi anns a' chatalog mu dheireadh. Tha fhios agad gu robh an t-sìde uabhasach math an-uiridh air feadh na h-Alba - uill, bha dùil agam gum biodh speuclairean grèine feumail dhòmhsa gu h-àraidh nuair a bhios mi ag obair air a' mhòintich. Fhuair mi na speuclairean trì seachdainean air ais. B'iad sin na trì seachdainean as fhaide de mo bheatha, faodaidh mi a ràdh!	Did I not buy those stupid sunglasses that I saw in the last catalogue. You know that the weather was exceptionally good last year throughout Scotland - well, I thought that I would find sunglasses useful, particularly when I'm working in the moor. I received the sunglasses three weeks ago. They were the three longest weeks of my life, I can tell you!
Nuair a bha mi air a' mhòintich chuir mi na speuclairean grèine air mullach mo speuclairean fhèin.… Uill, chaidh an saoghal dubh! Bha e cho dubh ri uaigh ceàird. Thug mi ceum agus nach do thuit mi a-steach sa ghlumag!	When I was in the moor I put the sunglasses on top of my own glasses…. Well, the world went black! It was as black as a tinker's grave. I stepped forward and wouldn't you believe it fell into a pool of water!
Dè thachair dhomh? Uill bhrist mi mo chas, chuir mi car 'nam adhbrann, sgoth mi mo ghàirdean agus ghoirtich mi mo cheann (tha am meall ann fhathast!) ... agus chan e sin uile! Bha agam ri dhol dhachaigh air bara mònach Lachlainn mo nàbaidh. Bha mi air mo nàrachadh mu dheidhinn sin!! De thachair an dèidh sin? Tha fhios agad mu mo bhalach "Dòmhnall againne" (chan eil ann ach dearg amadan).	What happened to me? Well I broke my leg, I twisted my ankle, I pulled my shoulder and I hurt my head (I've still got the lump!) … and that's not all! I had to go home on Lachlann my neighbour's barrow. I was embarrassed about that!! What happened then? You know of my son "our Donald" (he's nothing but a complete fool).
Uill, an-uiridh smaoinich e gu robh e uabhasach coltach ri Johnny Weismuller - le deise shnàmh air, le casan goirid. Uill, nuair a chuir e mo speuclairean grèine air, nach do smaoinich e gu robh e coltach ri Cary Grant. Mo chreach! Tha e cho gorach ri uaireadair bonn a sia!!	Well, last year he thought he had a close resemblance to Johnny Weismuller - wearing a swimsuit and with short legs. Well, when he put my sunglasses on, was he not convinced that he looked like Cary Grant. Hell's bells! He's as stupid as a sixpenny watch!!
Nach deach e chun an dannsa san talla bhaile cola-deug air ais. Co ris a bha e coltach, le bòtannan iasgaich, a gheansaidh làn tuill agus na speuclairean grèine air. Tha mi ag innse dhut - abair sealladh! Tha "Dòmhnall againne" car dall co-dhiù, ach nuair a chuir e air na speuclairean grèine bha e cho dall ri ialtag! Èist rium! Nach do dh'iarr e air Criosaidh Mhòr NicEacharna a phòsadh. Criosaidh Mhòr!! Chan eil innte ach sgliùrach mhòr robach, leisg gun fheum, coltach ri a càirdean. Smaoinich "Dòmhnall againne" gu robh i coltach ri Betty Grable - Betty Grable!! Le casan coltach ri pòlan telegraif agus falt stiallach oirre, mar seann chaora!	Did he not go along to the dance in the village hall a fortnight back. What was he like, with fisherman's boots, his jersey full of wholes and wearing the sunglasses. I'm telling you - what a sight! "Our Donald" is somewhat blind anyway, but when he put on the sunglasses he was as blind as a bat! Listen to me! Did he not go and ask Big Chrissie MacEchern to marry him. Big Chrissie!! She's nothing but a big untidy mess of a woman, lazy and useless, like her relations. "Our Donald" thought she was like Betty Grable - Betty Grable!! With her legs like telegraph poles and her streaky hair like that of an old sheep!
Chan eil mi den bharail gun tèid mi a dh'fhuireach còmhla ri "Dòmhnall againne" agus am buamailear mòr sin!!	I don't think I'll go to stay with "our Donald" and that fat dunderheid!!
Chan eil crìoch air an sgeulachd fhathast - cha chreideadh tu seo ... dè mu dheidhinn Alasdair an duine agamsa - 'se duine faoin a th'ann cuideachd. An t-seachdain sa chaidh nuair a bha e a' fàgail a' chidhe air a' bhàta iasgaich aige, nach do chuir e na speuclairean grèine air. Smaoinich esan gur e Errol Flynn a bh'ann anns an fhilm Seabhag na Mara, no "Sea Hawk" mar a chanas iad sa Bheurla.	The tale's not over yet - you won't believe this … what about my husband Alasdair - he's a silly one too. Last week when he was leaving the pier on his fishing boat, did he not go and put the sunglasses on. He thought he was Errol Flynn in the film Seabhag na Mara, or "Sea Hawk" as they say in English.
Tha am fradharc aige uabhasach dona co-dhiù agus nach do thuit e a-mach air toiseach a' bhàta. Bhuail e a cheann air creag ... agus dè do bheachd? Tha e ag ràdh nach eil cuimhne aige air sìon. Chaill e a chuimhne!! (Mas fhìor!) Tha e a' smaoineachadh gu bheil e pòsta aig mo phiuthar Flòraidh. (Nach robh i riamh an tòir air!) Uill, a-nis, nach eil e fhèin agus Flòraidh a' fuireach còmhla anns an taigh spaideil aice ann an Toll a' Mhathain, no Bearsden mar a chanas iad sa Bheurla. Abair sgeulachd!!	His eyesight is really bad anyway, and would you believe he fell out over the bow of the boat. He hit his head on a rock ... and can you guess what? He says that he can't remember a thing. He lost his memory!! (As if!) He thinks he's married to my sister Flora. (Was she not always after him!) Well, now, are they not living together in her beautiful house in Toll a' Mhathain, or Bearsden as they call it. What a tale!!
Cò chreideadh e, na speuclairean gorach ag adhbharachadh na h-ùpraid seo!!	Who'd believe it, those silly sunglasses causing all this hullabaloo!!
O, bha dùil agam na speuclairean grèine a chur air ais thugad, ach an sealladh mu dheireadh a bh'agam orra bha iad ann an gob faoileag mhòr ... is i a' dèanamh air Ameireagaidh (nach bi iadsan glè fheumail dhi!!).	Oh, I intended to return the sunglasses to you, but the last I saw of them they were in the beak of a large seagull … which was making for America (won't it find them useful!!).
O uill, chan e droch naidheachd a th'ann gu lèir - tha mo shùil-sa ann am bodach beartach ann a' Ward a Trì. Chan eil e cho bòidheach, ach tha e cliobach air a chasan agus gun fhada ri dhol. Tha tuathanas mòr aige a's an Eilean Dubh agus tha e a' lorg bean taighe. 'Se obair mhath agus deagh thuarastal a th'ann (agus dòchas math!). Tha mi an dòchas nach bi e ag iarraidh càil sam bith eile - ged a tha na casan cliobach aige!	Oh well, it's not totally a tale of sorrow - I've got a notion for a rich old boy in Ward Three. He's not that good-looking, but he's unsteady on his feet and doesn't have long to go. He has a big farm in the Black Isle and is looking for a housewife. It's good work and a good wage (with high hopes!). I hope he won't be wanting anything else - even if his legs are unsteady!
An dèidh sin 's 'na dhèidh - 's dòcha nuair a bhios mi 'nam bhanntrach bheartach, cuiridh mi a dh'iarraidh dà phaidhir eile!	For all that - perhaps when I'm a rich widow I'll send for another couple of pairs!
Mo bheannachdan dod' bhean, dod' theaghlach agus dod' chàirdean uile.	My best wishes to your wife, your children and to all your relations.
Le deagh dhùrachd,	All the best,
Beasag NicLeòid	Bess MacLeod
PS - Nach mi tha math air na dealbhan, a Sheonaidh! O, ma thogair mu dheidhinn a' bhodaich. Thèid mi dhan Sgoil Ealain ann an Glaschu. Chan eil mi ro aosta fhathast! 'S dòcha gur mi a' chiad bhan-Leòdhasach as a' Bhac a thèid ann. Tìoraidh!!	PS - Don't you think I have a talent for the pictures, Johnny! Oh, don't worry about the old boy. I'll go to the Art School in Glasgow. I'm not too old yet! Perhaps I'll be the first Lewis woman from Back to go there. Cheerie!!

Mòr Love (Gàidhlig)
Colasite Bhruach Chluaidh

You can find more articles in the archive under Gaelic Column and information on the organization at C.L.I.

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