Duinnín agus na Bollain (tuilleadh)

• Chiúnaigh an tseanbhean tar éis tamaill agus d’fhill Brídín. ar
  an gcomhluadar. Thóg an tAthair Pádraig an buideal uaithi.
  Bhain se an corc as agus é ag mothú gurbh é uair na cinniúna é.
  Bholaigh sé é. Ansin dhoirt se braon ar a bhois agus bhlais sé de.
  Bhí sé ar an bpoitín ba ghairge agus ba ghránna a bhlais sé
  riamh, ach ní raibh aon amhras air ach gur phoitín é. Bhí na
  cailíní á choimhéad. Chuimil sé an braon go cúramach ar alt a
  ordóige.

  ‘Tá leigheas ann ceart go leor,’ ar seisean.

  The old woman calmed down after a while and Bridey returned to
  the company. Father Patrick took the bottle from her. He removed the cork,
  feeling it was the moment of destiny. He smelled it. Then he poured a
  drop on his palm and tasted it. It was the harshest and ugliest poteen he
  had ever tasted, but he had no doubt but that it was poteen.
  The girls were watching him. He carefully rubbed the drop on a joint of his thumb.

  ‘That is certainly medicine,’ he said.

  Ciúnaigh	Calm; pacify
  comhluadar	(social) company	m
  mothú	Feeling, perception; sensation, consciousness	m
  cinniúint	Destiny; chance; Tragedy, misfortune	f gs cinniúna
  Bolaigh	smell	v
  doirt
  braon	drop	m
  gairge	Harshness, pungency	f
  gránna	ugly
  coimhéad	watch, guard	m
  Cuimil	rub, stroke, fondle; wipe
  alt	joint	m

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