No trains. Not even from K.C Jones. Not yet, any way. But not to sound punny, let’s keep this train rollin!

I hope they’re short enough. Almost done...I promise.

Dearest Argot,
alone you are not,
your role is yours
and yours alone,
but your calling shared
and shared must be.
Lutetia’s fate in your hands does rest
a role, a burden perhaps,
a calling heroic, nonetheless.
The scales of justice for this life,
here in this city,
at in this day,
now in this age,
here in a realm seen,
and most importantly
in realms unseen,
only then will balanced become
once loving sacrifice is made

A Argot, a chara mo chroí,
níl tú i d’aonar,
is é do ról a bhaineann leat féin,
ach roinntear do ghlaoch
agus ní mór é a roinnt.
Tá cinniúint Luitésia i do dhá lámh
mar ról, ualach b'fhéidir,
glaoch laochra, mar sin féin.
Déanfaidh scálaí ceartais don saol seo
freastal orthu féin
anseo sa chathair seo,
ar an lá seo,
anois san aois seo,
anseo sa réimse infheicthe seo,
agus níos tábhachtaí fós i réimsí dofheicthe,
nuair a dhéanfar an íobairt ghrámhar.

Ok, in all honesty I wasn't going to post anything so soon. I feel pushy. But I am at the beginning of a week, which is resulting in the perfect storm of misery and self-loathing. Please just humor me...it will all be over soon (only 10 small ones left!).

You guys are a ray of hope to me...it sounds cheesy...but it's true. Here we go:

Sacrifice and offering still await,
the balances of the justice,
of this life here and now,
and of living in the realms beyond;
soon to be tipped,
soon to be balanced.
Your name in this age chosen,
your name re-written
for in you strength hidden,
in your calling lies truth
in your heart, oft weakened,
yet never broken,
the moral law of perfection resides.

Misery and self-loathing, eh? That usually takes me until the middle of the week. Anyway . . .

Tá íobairt agus tairiscint fós ag fanacht le
meánna an cheartais
den tsaol seo anseo anois,
agus de shaol na réimsí níos faide i gcéin;
a bheith iompaithe go luath,
a bheith ar cóimheá go luath.
Tá d'ainm athscríofa san aois roghnaithe seo
toisc go bhfuil neart i bhfolach ionatsa;
luíonn an fhírinne i do ghlaoch;
i do chroí a lagaítear go minic,
ach nach mbristear riamh,
atá cónaí dlí morálta na foirfeachta.

Absolute rock stars. Joining the ranks of Barry Mannilow, Mic Jagger, Eddie Vedder, Bowie, Bono or Dave Matthews. Thank you!

Apologies to the Beatles for their omission. And Zeppelin. Simple oversights on my part. And yet, somehow, unforgivable.

Down to the single digits. Thank you guys so much.

The glad news of deliverance
across the lands will spread,
the songs of conquest victorious,
in congregations will be sung.
No words of joy shall be silenced,
no lips rejoicing shall be restrained.
Lutetia’s deliverance will not be hidden,
her resurrection,
through generations will be praised.
Your love for her
will not be concealed,
your faithfulness
through the ages will be revealed.

Hendrix? Not that good. The Pogues? I wish. Rory Gallagher? Closer. Barry Manilow, Donny Osmond . . . just call me the Englebert Humperdinck of English to Irish translation.

Leathfaidh dea-scéala na fuascailt
ar fud na dtailte,
beidh na hamhráin de choncais bhuacaigh,
á gcanadh i gcomhthionóil.
Ní bheidh focail an áthais curtha ina dtost,
ní chuirfear srian le liopaí an cheiliúrtha.
Ní bheidh fuascailt Lutetia i bhfolach,
molfar a aiséirí
trí na glúnta.
Ní bheidh do ghrá di i bhfolach,
beidh do dhílseacht trí na haoiseanna
á nochtadh.

My goodness! 8 to go. Just 8. So, I'll be cheeky and throw the next one up. I'm not sure what Manilow or Osmond song to sing (probably because I don't know any)...but whatever song needs to be sung because the adrenaline is flowing...that's the song I'm singing.

“Argot, my friend, ‘tis now,
when worlds collide,
when realms must war,
to heal the vast divide.
The stars last seen
but in ages past,
now seen by all mankind,
blinded by death no more.
Lutetia is yours,
her faith still unwritten,
the now belongs to you
the future Lutetia does own.
Life is yours to have,
your death, you alone possess;
all belongs to you.
this the truth, evil does know,
in Rheder’s realm you belong,
this the fact, death does fear.”

Just to correct a few typos -

line 5 - 'an-áthais cur' > an áthais curtha
line 7 - 'fuascailte' > fuascailt
line 8 - 'moltar' > molfar
line 9 - 'nglúnta' > glúnta
line 11- 'dílis trí na n-aoiseanna' > dhílseacht trí na haoiseanna


In the previous section, in line 3 'den tsaoil' > den tsaol; line 4 'de saoil' > de shaol; line 11 'níl briste' > ní briste (though I think it should be nach mbristear).

In the one before that, last line: 'dhéantar an íobairt grámhara' > dhéanfar an íobairt ghrámhar

A tiomluasocein - 'Déanfaidh scálaí ceartais...freastal orthu féin' - ní thuigim cén bhaint atá aige sin leis an leagan Béarla.

Errigal, thank you for joining the fray. It is much appreciated.