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p. 33

SIAN A BHEATHA BHUAN [135]

THE CHARM OF THE LASTING LIFE

 

 

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p. 33

C

CUIRIM sian a bheatha bhuan,
Mu ’r crodh luath, leathann, lan,
An creagan air an laigh an spreidh,
     Gun eirich iad beo slan.

A nuas le buaidh ’s le beannachd,
A suas le luaths ’s le leannachd,
Gun ghnu, gun tnu, gun fharmad,
Gun suil bhig, gun suil mhoir,
     Gun suil choig an dearmaid.

Sughaidh mise seo, sughadh feith farmaid
Air ceannard an tighe ’s air teaghlaich a bhaile,
Gun eirich gach droch-bhuil, ’s gach droch-bhuaidh
     Bu dhualta dhuibh-se dhaibh-san.

          Ma mhallaich teanga duibh,
          Bheannaich cridhe duibh;
          Ma ghonaich suil duibh,
          Shonaich run duibh.

Tionndanam is teanndanam,
Culionn cruaidh is creanndagaich
Air an caoire boirionn ’s air an laoighe firionn,
     Fad nan naodh ’s nan naodh fichead bliadhna.

 

I WILL place the charm of the lasting life,
Upon your cattle active, broad, and full,
The knoll upon which the herds shall lie down,
     That they may rise from it whole and well.

Down with success, and with blessing,
Up with activity and following,
Without envy, without malice, without ill-will,
Without small eye, without large eye,
     Without the five eyes of neglect.

I will suck this, the sucking of envious vein
On the head of the house, and the townland families,
That every evil trait, and every evil tendency
     Inherent in you shall cleave to them.

          If tongue cursed you,
          A heart blessed you;
          If eye blighted you,
          A wish prospered you.

A hurly-burlying, a topsy-turvying,
A hard hollying and a wan withering
To their female sheep and to their male calves,
     For the nine and the nine score years.

 


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