How do you say this in Irish? 

I get asked this quite a bit. I have been attempting to learn Irish for at least 8 years. I've gone to Ireland more than a half a dozen times, twice for Irish language immersion, and I have the overwhelming arrogance to facilitate a monthly Irish language study session in spite of how little I can speak off the cuff. I incorporate a bit of Irish in my religious practice. I speak it to my pets. It's understandable that someone would think I could do a "simple" translation for them.

But they would be mistaken for reasons more interesting than you think. 

I have a secret I want to share with you on how I am able to bring Gaeilge, the Irish language, into my life. But first let's start with a bit of warning. 

There's a humorous blogger, the Geeky Gaelgeoir, who has written extensively about heart-sinking Irish language tattoo errors. Most people begin their Irish language adventures by seizing on an English phrase that moves them and then go seeking out Gaeilge in order to elevate the sentiment through translation. It seems like a logical approach. 

There's a certain magic, mystery, and an air of authenticity to Irish. Even at its most modern it feels ancient. It is, indeed, one of the oldest written and spoken languages in the world. But it is mysterious for very mundane reasons. It is a complicated language that boasts fewer than a million speakers. In fact Irish nationals rightfully complain that abused bits of the language show up in fantasy literature and gaming as a kind of code for magic. It's easy to be mysterious with a language that few people understand. It's also easy to be very wrong with it! It's awful to end up with your skin decoration going viral because you got Irish so terribly wrong. 

It turns out that the Irish language is very much like figures from Irish folklore, you go to it hoping to get something you want, but in the end you only get the experience it wants to give you.

And there’s a lot of effort and time between the beginning and the end of the tale.

So now might be the time to let you in on my secret.

My secret to using Irish is to start with Irish, to come face to face with Irish, and then to follow it down its mysterious pathways. If this sounds foolhardy or possibly dangerous then you are probably not ready to use Irish and should translate your heartfelt declarations into Spanish, French, or Latin. Irish has its own motives and it's positively antagonistic to English. If you show up at Irish's doorstep and insist it respect your English feelings you are in for more than you bargained for. But if it's Irish you are seeking and you have a spirit of adventure, I can give you an insight to my approach.

For example, I was recently asked to translate into Irish an excellent English phrase that implied self-sufficiency, rebellion, and group competence. I could tell right away that this was a sentiment steeped in cultural connections and that these are not universal.

In the middle of it was the word "protect." 

So: I took the word “protect” and headed for Teanglann.ie/en the online Irish language dictionary.

The first thing I noticed is that there are three or more Irish verbs that are used in different circumstances where English would use one verb, “protect.”

There were also some suggested incomplete phrases, but they didn't have the same kind of meaning at the heart of the phrase that sent me on my search.

The words for "protect" sprawl out to include so many concepts: defend, champion, shield, enshrine, blanket, muffle. The related phrases include expressions about fleeing to safety, or covering with upholstery. And neither of those were at all aligned with the motives of the person who asked. Simply grabbing one of these haphazardly could definitely lead to unintended humor. But grabbing and running isn't the dangerous adventure I am proposing. 

Where you are now in this approach is at the beginning of a cultural exploration that, if done right, will take you no less than an hour and at best will reward you with a genuine Gaeilge phrase you like, but is not likely to give you what you thought you would find.

You may not end up with an Irish phrase at all, but with a lot of food for thought and a little more understanding of Irish culture.

In other words, Irish words, you are about to follow the Irish language into its own world, and see what is to be seen there. 

Out of curiosity I followed the three main Irish verbs from the English tab to the Irish tab, and from there, hopped over to the original verbal forms. I perused the phrases below the main definitions and checked out the pronunciations on the far right tab for some of the words. 

In the end I discovered "Áit Chónaithe" which was first defined as "a place of security, a cache" but ended up also meaning home, or a dwelling place. The phrase from there was "Do chroí a chur ina áit chónaithe" or "to possess one’s soul in patience." I reflected on how important in Irish culture is the security of one's home. In our practice we discuss how the home and the hearth is the heart of the sacred. The sacred is woven into ordinary life. 

I worked my way through the grammatical tab related to the verb "cur" challenging myself to deeply understand the translation of the phrase I had found. "Do chroi" is "your heart." In Irish the verb usually comes before the subject, in this case "a chur" makes of the verb "cur" a verbal noun, gerund, or infinitive like "to lay" or "to sow" or "to be sowing." It follows the passive object, your heart. The implied subject is you. I took about twenty minutes with this part of the adventure, pushing myself to flex my grammatical muscles. 

In the end my reward was to let the Irish flow off of my tongue a few times, to ruminate on the weight and depth of meaning of the home in Irish culture, and to reinforce my progress with the language I keep pursuing. 

I have the opportunity to add this bit of Gaeilge to my practice, to bring it up in our Irish language practice sessions, or to forget it for a while until some coincidence brings it to mind, like the misty impression of a barely remembered adventure of a warm Bealtaine night when I went to a sacred Irish place asking for a translation, only to wake up the next day with my throat sore from spitting out "ch"'s and soft "t"'s and my eyes strained from sorting out thick handsful of vowels and extra "h"'s, and a strong, strong feeling in my heart about the value of home. "Mo chroí a chur ina áit chónaithe.” Do you see the difference?

Peace of the mountains to you, 

Paulie Rainbow