A Hermit Song - Anon. 9th century (translation from Old Irish {Gaelic})
M' óenurán im aireclán
M' óenurán im aireclán
cen duinén im gnáis:
robad inmuin ailethrán
ré n-dul i n-dáil m-báis.
Bothnat deirrit diamair
do dílgud cach cloín;
cubus díriuch diamain
dochum nime noíb.
Nóebad cuirp co sobésaib:
saltrad ferda for,
súilib tláithib todéraib
do dílgud mo thol.
Tola fanna féodaidi,
freitech domnáin ché,
coicle bána béodaidi,
ba sí dígde Dé.
Donála co n-dílechtai
dochum nime nél,
coibsin fíala fíretlai,
frossa díana dér.
Dérgud adúar áigthide
amal tálgud troch,
cotlud gairit gáibthide
diucra meinic moch.
Mothúara, mo thuinide,
robad inmuin cacht;
ním-dingénad cuilide
mo longud, cen acht.
Arán toimse tírmaide --
maith don'airnem gnúis --
uisce lerga lígmaise
ba sí deog no lúis.
Longud serbda sélmide,
menma i l-lebor léir,
lám fri cath, fri céilide,
cubus roithin ré id.
10/11. Robad inmuin (araidi)
ainim nechta nóeb,
leicne tírmai tanaidi
tonn chrochnaide chóel.
12. Críst mac Dé dom thaithigid,
Mo Dúilem, mo Rí,
mo menma día aithigid
issind falith i m-bí.
13. Ba sí in chrích fom-themadar
eter lissu lann
locán álainn eladglan,
os mé m' óenur ann.
14. Cech tenga cen meth
Forsa tardad rath
Cech cride fon mbith
nád chota nach mbrath,
15. Cech fírién fíal
Fo chlár nime glain,
ónd fuiniud an-íar
Co slíab Sióin sair,
16. Rom-snádat e-síu
Ar demnaid na céo,
Ceili Maic ind Ríg
A tírib na mbeo.
17. Ro bé Día dom dín,
Coimdiu aingel án,
Aithne tánaic úad
Ara rísed slán.
18. Rom-snáda mo Rí
Romm-ain i cach ré;
Ro béo ar cach ngád
Ar scáth dernann Dé.
All alone in my little cell, without a single human being along with me: such a pilgrimage would be dear to my heart before going to meet death.
A hidden, secluded little hut, for forgiveness of all evil; a conscience unperverted and untroubled, directed towards holy Heaven.
Sanctifying a body trained in good habits; trampling like a man upon it, with eyes feeble and tearful for the forgiveness of my passions.
Passions weak and withered; renouncement of this wretched world; pure eager thoughts: let God’s pardon be sought thus.
Sincere wailings towards cloudy Heaven; seemly truly holy confessions; eager showers of tears.
A cold fearsome bed where one rests like a doomed man; short hazardous sleep; frequent early invocation.
My food and what I should possess would make a lovely hardship of my life: beyond doubt what I would eat would not make me sinful.
Dry bread weighed out - let us carefully cast our faces down - ; water from a bright and pleasant hillside, let that be the draught you drink.
An unpalatable meagre diet, diligent attention to reading, renunciation of fighting and visiting, a calm easy conscience.
10/11. How delightful… some pure holy blemish would be, withered emaciated cheeks, skin leathery and thin!
12. I should love to have Christ son of God visiting me, my Creator, my King, and that my mind should resort to Him in the Kingdom in which He dwells.
13. Let the place which shelters me amid monastic enclosures be a delightful hermit’s plot hallowed by religious stones, with me alone therein.
14. Every tongue without fail upon which grace has been bestowed, every heart throughout the world which never covenants treachery,
15. Every modest righteous one beneath the plane of bright Heaven, from the west where the sun sets, eastwards to Mount Zion:
16. From here may they protect me against the fog-surrounded demons, these companions of the King’s Son from the lands of the living.
17. May God be ever present to guard me, glorious Lord of angels, so that when he comes to claim the deposit received from Him He may find it safe.
18. My King guard me; may He aid me always; may I be at every need beneath the protection of God’s hand.
*from the archives of Dr. Patrick F. Walsh, Ph.D., National University of Ireland - Prof. Emeritus Anglo-Irish Literature & English Literature, St. Francis Xavier University (Grad 1958), Antigonish, Nova Scotia, Canada & St. Mary's University, Calgary, Canada.