May the seven terriers of hell sit on the spool of your breast and bark in at your soulcase.
May you be afflicted with the itch and have no nails to scratch with.
May the devil take him by the heels and shake him.
No butter be on your milk nor on your ducks a web. May your child not walk and your cow be flayed. And may the flame be bigger and wider which will go through your soul than the Connemara mountains if they were on fire.
May those who love us love us
And those who do not love us
May God turn their hearts
And if He can not turn their hearts
May He turn their ankles
So we�ll know them by their limping.
(In Gaelic:
Go bhfana � ngr� linn,
Iad si�d at� � ngr� linn.
Iad si�d nach bhfuil,
Go gcasa Dia a gcro�the.
Agus muna gcasann S� a gcro�the
Go gcasa S� caol na coise acu
Go n-aithneoimid iad as a mbacada�l.)
May the cat eat you, and may the devil eat the cat.
(In Gaelic: Go n-ithe an cat th� is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat.)
May you have glass legs and may the glass break.
(In Gaelic: Go mbeadh cosa gloine f�t agus go mbrise an ghloine.)
-carina
