Amhrán na Cruthaithe (The Song of Creation)

Eistibh liom, a mhic na hAedh

Hear me, O sons of Aedh

Saor-Néimead is Dóer-Néimead

Free and Bound, high and low

De chlannaibh na hÉireann, ó chósta go cósta

Of the clans of Éireann, from shore to shore

Más toil libh fios na seanchais

If it is your will to know the ancient lore

A dhaoine na n-aoiseanna, a mhuintir na gaoithe is na mara

O people of the ages, folk of wind and sea

Is mise is sine dá bhfuil ar eolas agam

I am the oldest of those remembered

Más mian libh an seanscéal a chlos—éistigí

If you would hear the ancient tale—listen

Roimh thús na dtosach—ní raibh tada ann

Before the beginning of beginnings—there was nothing

Gan suas ná síos, gan cladach ná tonn

No up, no down, no shore, no wave

Gan seo ná siúd, gan solas ná dorchadas

No here, no there, no light, no darkness

Fairsinge mhór, do-thuigthe, gan chríoch ná teorainn

A vastness great, unknowable, without end or boundary

Ní fios cé fhad a bhí sí ann

None know how long it endured

Óir ní raibh aimsir ann lena tomhas

For there was no time to measure it

Ag an gcéad idirdhealú—d’éirigh trí phointe as an bhfolús

At the first sundering—three points arose from the void

Seo, siúd, agus an neamháit eatarthu

Here, there, and the no-place between

An Bheith agus an Neamhbheith

Being and Non-being

Agus an tslí bheo a shiúlann eatarthu mar ghaoth ar muir

And the living way that walks between them like wind upon the sea

Ar thóir na heagna—do ghluaise an Lánacht

In quest of wisdom—the Fullness moved

Do chuaigh Lánacht na Beatha síos tré Neamhbheith

The Fullness of Being went down through Non-being

Mar thonn ag tumadh faoi dhorchadas na doimhne

Like a wave plunging beneath the dark of the deep

Do leag sí cosáin do na beo nach raibh fós

It laid paths for the living who were not yet

Do rug an bheatha ar an mbás mar ghabhann tine ar adhmad tirim

Life seized upon death as flame takes dry wood

Agus do rinne sí slí dá slánú féin

And made a way for its own salvation

Trína féin-íobairt—gan fhinné, gan fhocal

Through its own sacrifice—without witness, without word

Agus as an íobairt sin do gineadh an Folús Beo

And from that sacrifice was begotten the Living Void

An bhroinn mhór gan teorainn—an Mhór-Rígan

The great womb without boundary—the Great Queen

Banríon na haimsire is na spásanna uile

Queen of time and all spaces

An té do bhí, an té do thiocfaidh—an Bhandia Chogaidh

She who was, she who will come—the Goddess of battle

Mar thuirling stoirm ar fharraige chiúin

As a storm falls upon a silent sea

Agus an Mháthair chiúin i bhfolach inti

And the quiet Mother hidden within her

Agus ba í Bríghid do las an chéad tine i ndoimhne na broinne

And it was Brigid who kindled the first fire in the deep of the womb

Lasair bheag ar dtús—mar shúil i ndorchadas

A small flame at first—as an eye in darkness

As broinn na Banríona do bhris sé amach

From the womb of the Queen it burst forth

Aodh—an chéad-lasair, croí na cruinne

Aedh—the first flame, the heart of the cosmos

Mar splanc thar uisce, mar éirí gréine thar tonnta

Like a spark over water, like sunrise over waves

Agus d’fhás sé ina sholas is ina ghrá

And it grew into light and into love

Agus tugadh Lugh air i measc na mbeo

And he was called Lugh among the living

Solas na gréine, tine na spéire, anam gach ní beo

The light of the sun, the fire of the sky, the soul of all living things

Ag leathnú gach ní tré gach uile ní, mar thonnta gan stad

Expanding all things through all that is, like waves without end

Agus as a sholas do tháinig an Focal gan fuaim

And from his light came the Word without sound

An t-ainm do bhí ann roimh gach ainm, folaithe i ngach uile ní

The Name that was before every name, hidden in all things

IAO a thug na filí air i bhfís is in imbas

IAO the seers called it in vision and in inspiration

Trí ghath naofa do scaipeadh as, mar sholas trí scáil

Three sacred rays flowed from it, like light through shadow

Mar Imbas, mar Anáil na Beatha

As Imbas, as the Breath of Life

Ní trí litir amháin, ach trí léiriú den Aon

Not three letters alone, but three revealings of the One

Mar sin a labhraíonn an tAon é féin

Thus the One speaks itself

Trí thús, trí lár, trí chríoch—mar taoide ag teacht is ag imeacht

Through beginning, through middle, through end—as tide that comes and goes

Agus fós ina aonacht gan scoilt, mar fharraige faoi ghealach

And yet in unity without division, like the sea beneath the moon