Looking for a translation, for a funeral.

It's a lengthy translation, looking for it to be in old spelling (sl)

Please message me if interested. Serious inquiries only.

It may be too late now, but maybe you could post the text to translate?

Here is the text I'm looking to have translated. Again, it *is* lengthy, but I *am* willing to pay commission.

The text I'm looking to have translated is:

1.) ... and lo, I pray to the old gods and the new, that I may bring forth victory, or grant me pass to the glory that is Mag Mell ...

I call You, Supreme War goddess. I call You, Battle Raven, I call You, Terror of men and Washer at the ford of fate, and I bow my head before You. Oh You Who stalk the battlefield, feast upon our fears as a hound upon the battle’s fallen. Drive us, ancient Warrior, Goddess of battles, of terror, and hope, and power, drive us into truth. Drive us into integrity. Drive us until we have no choice but to be as the Gods meant us to be, without apology. Hail to You, Morrigan. Hail, Mother of Battle. Hail to the victories You bring.

Camulus of the oak leaf and the ram, warder of the battlefield, master of war and all its arts, granter of strength and will to those who follow your calling, I salute you. In high lands and in low, from Britain’s northern bounds to the wilds of great Gaul, your might was well known, your name carved deep in stone by those who put their faith in you; many were the prayers said to you for courage and for victory, for refuge and salvation. Our fathers of a thousand years and more made offering to you, Oh Camulus; hear our call, Oh god of the one and the many.

To wide-ranging Lugus I offer my prayer. Oh god of many, ever are you with your people, warding the home or watching over the traveler; ever do you grant your gifts to the artist and the tradesman, the maker and the warrior. Noble Lugus, consort of shining Rosmerta, from the dark you arose, Oh wise one, Oh clever one; from your hands fall bright gold, the reward of the worthy, given to those whose craft and toil bring into being works both useful and fair. Well known you were in Gaul and in Galicia, Oh thrice-honored god; I honor you this day, Oh Lugus, Oh constant one.

I call to you, Oh Dagda, mighty one, kindly one, generous one, great god of many talents, father of children good-hearted and strong, master of treasures beyond telling, your cauldron ever full, your trees ever heavy with sweet fruit. Upon your oaken harp you play to bring the land to new-grown life or set it to a winter’s sleep; in hand you wield the hefty club with which you take or give back lives. Oh Dagda, god of many names, granter of many gifts, holder of knowledge and bearer of wisdom, worker of wonders, you shield us in safety, you bless us with bounty.

Grant me courage
Grant me strength
Grant me wisdom
Guide my axe
Guide my wrath
Guide me to glory in the name of the old gods and new ...

2.) "My mother told me
Some day I would buy
Galleys with good oars
Sail to distant shores
Stand up high on the prow
Noble barque I steer
Steady course to the haven
Hew many foe-men

Oars churn the waters
Under starlit skies
Honor to our fathers
We shall never die

Gather all ye (you) horsemen
Sword and shield ye (you) wield
March t'ward (toward) your victory
O'er (Over) blood red fields"


(These next items I'm looking to have translated aren't for the funeral, but I'm willing to add them to the same commission)

1.) ... it's only business ...

2.) No mercy for the wicked

... and lo, I pray to the old gods and the new, that I may bring forth victory, or grant me pass to the glory that is Mag Mell ...


Agus féach, tá mo ghuí á cur suas agam chun na ndéithe sean agus nua, go bhféadfainn bua ' thúirt amach, nú cintar liom go dtéinn anún go Ríocht na Glóire, 'sé sin Mag Mell....

A good beginning on that part.

I've made an attempt on the following. Wait for more input on it, corrections, comments, and so on.

Tim



Tabhair misneach dom
Tabhair neart dom
Tabhair eagna dom
Treoraigh mo thua
Treoraigh mo fhearg
Treoraigh mé chun glóire in ainm na seandéithe agus na ndéithe nua





"Dúirt mo mháthair liom
go gceannóinn galláin le ratha maithe lá éigin
agus sheolfainn go cladaí i bhfad i gcéin
go seasfainn suas go hard ar an bpraine
ag stiúradh loinge maorga
ag déanamh cúrsa seasta don tearmann
agus go leor naimhde a mharú

Cuireann ratha ars na huiscí
faoi na réaltaí a sholas sa spéartha
Tugaimid onóir dár n-aithreacha
Ní bhfaighidh muid bás go deo

Druidigí isteach sibh, a mharcra
ag caitheamh do chlaíomh agus do sciatha
Déanaimis máirseáil i dtreo do bhua
ar pháirceanna cródhearga"



2.) ... Níl ann ach gnó.

3.) Níl trócaire ar bith ar an chiontach.

Thank you, I can't thank you enough.

Please feel free to PM me if you would be able or willing to finish the translation for a commission.

The following is not a finished translation. This is only a "first draft" of an attempted translation of the text sentence by sentence into MODERN IRISH. I can't accept a commission for this.

There is no way for me to translate it into OLD or even MIDDLE IRISH as the grammar and vocabulary are beyond me. I have books on OLD IRISH and they offer sentences like "Take the horse to the barn and feed it" but nothing as advanced as what you are asking for. At this point, the reason for me posting it here for everyone to see is that some other people can come along and make corrections (of which there will be many undoubtedly) and suggestions for better phrasing, and so on. Please DO NOT use this Irish text as the final version to be etched into stone. That would be a huge mistake. What you could do is take it and have a professional translator look at it or even someone who knows OLD IRISH. Or you could look up OLD IRISH texts online and see if there may be something that you could use that way.

That said, wouldn't you rather have something simpler, shorter, more concise for a grave stone?

Keep in mind that djwebb translated the first part, so credit where credit is due. The rest is my mess.

1.)

... and look, I pray to the old and the new gods that I may bring forth victory, or let me pass away to the glory of Mag Mell.

Agus féach, tá mo ghuí á cur suas agam chun na ndéithe sean agus nua, go bhféadfainn bua ' thúirt amach, nú cintar liom go dtéinn anún go Ríocht na Glóire, 'sé sin Mag Mell....

I call You, Supreme War goddess.

Glaoim amach chugat, a bhandia uachtarach an chogaidh.

I call You, Battle Raven.

Glaoim amach chugat, a fhiach an chatha.

I call You, Terror of men and Washer at the ford of fate,

Glaoim amach chugat, a shceimhle na bhfear, a niteoir ag áth na cinniúna,

and I bow my head before You.

agus umhlaím an cheann romhaibh go léir.

Oh You Who stalk the battlefield,

A shibhse atá ag smúrthacht thart faoin cathéadan,

feast upon our fears as a hound upon the battle’s fallen.

caithigí fleá ar ár n-eagla mar chú ar na daoine a thit sa chatha.

Drive us, ancient Warrior, goddess of battles, of terror, and hope, and power, drive us into truth.

Brúigí sinn, a laoich ársa, a bhandia cathanna, sceimhle, dóchais, agus cumhachta; brúigí sinn isteach i bhfírinne.

Drive us into integrity.

Brúigí sinn isteach i gcaighdeán/sláine.

Drive us until we have no choice but to be as the gods meant us to be, without apology.

Brúigí sinn go dtí nach bhfuil an dara rogha againn ach a bheith mar a chiallaigh na déithe dúinn a bheith, gan leithscéal.

Hail to You, Morrigan. Hail, Mother of Battle. Hail to the victories You bring.

Sé do bheatha duit, a Mhorrigan. Sé do bheatha, a mháthair an chatha. Sé do bheatha na mbuanna a thugann tú.

Camulus of the oak leaf and the ram, warder of the battlefield, master of war and all its arts, granter of strength and will to those who follow your calling, I salute you.

A Chamulus na duilleog darach agus an reithe, a gharda an chatha, a mháistir cogaidh agus a ealaíona go léir, a dheontóir nirt agus tola dóibh siúd a leanann do ghlaoch, sáim thú.

In high and in low lands, from Britain’s northern bounds to the wilds of great Gaul, your might was well known, your name carved deep in stone by those who put their faith in you;

I dtailte arda agus i gcinn ísle, ó theorainneacha thuaidh na Breataine go fiántais na Gaile Móire a bhí aithne mhaith ar do neart, agus bhí d'ainm snoite go domhain i gcloch ag daoine a chuir a gcreideamh ionat;

there were many prayers said to you for courage and for victory, for refuge and salvation.

is iomaí paidreacha a dúradh leat ar son misnigh agus ar son an bhua, ar son tearmainn agus slánaithe.

Our fathers of a thousand years and more made offerings to you, Oh Camulus;

Do dheineadar ár n-aithreacha míle bliain agus i bhfad níos mó tairiscintí duit, a Chamulus;

hear our call, Oh god of the one and the many.

éist lenár nglao, a dhia an duine agus an iliomad.

To wide-ranging Lugus I offer my prayer.

Is go Lugus fairsing a thairgim mo phaidir.

Oh god of many, ever are you with your people, warding the home or watching over the traveler;

A dhia go leor daoine, is riamh a bhíonn tú le do mhuintir, ag barda os cionn an tí agus ag breathnú ar an taistealaí;

ever do you grant your gifts to the artist and the tradesman, the maker and the warrior.

Is riamh a thugann tú do bhronntanais don ealaíontóir agus don cheardaí, don déantóir agus don ghaiscíoch.

Noble Lugus, consort of shining Rosmerta, from the dark you arose, Oh wise one, Oh clever one;

A Lugus uasal, cuibhreannas Rosmerta lonrach, d'éirigh leat ón dorchadas, a shaoi, a dhuine cliste;

from your hands falls bright gold, the reward of the worthy, given to those whose craft and toil bring into being works both useful and fair.

titeann ór geal ó do lámha, luach saothair an fhiúntais, tugtha dóibh siúd a dtugann a gceird agus a n-obair mhaslach saothair úsáideach agus cothrom araon ar an saol.

Well known you were in Gaul and in Galicia, Oh thrice-honored god; I honor you this day, Oh Lugus, Oh constant one.

Bhí cáil ort sa Ghaill agus sa Ghailís, a dhia a thugadh onóir trí huaire; tugaim onóir duit an lá seo, a Lugus, a dhuine dilís.

I call to you, Oh Dagda, mighty one, kindly one, generous one, great god of many talents, father of children good-hearted and strong, master of treasures beyond telling, your cauldron ever full, your trees ever heavy with sweet fruit.

Glaoim amach chugat, a Dhagda, a dhuine uilechumhachtach, a dhuine cineálta, a dhuine flaithiúil, a dhia mhór le buanna go leor, a athair na bpáistí láidre agus le croíthe móra maithe acu, a mháistir seoda atá thar insint, le do choire riamh lán agus do chrainn riamh trom le torthaí milse.

Upon your oak harp you play to bring the land to new-grown life or set it to a winter’s sleep;

Is ar do chláirseach darach a imríonn tú chun an talamh a thabhairt go saol nuafhásta nó é a shocrú do chodladh geimhridh;

in hand you wield the hefty club with which you take or give back lives.

chaith tú ar láimh an cleith trom lena dtógann tú nó a thugann tú ar ais beatha.

Oh Dagda, god of many names, granter of many gifts, holder of knowledge and bearer of wisdom, worker of wonders, you shield us in safety, you bless us with bounty.

A Dhagda, a dhia an oiread sin ainmneacha, a dheontóir bronntanas go leor, a shealbhóir eolais agus a iompróir eagna, a oibrí iontais, sciath tú sinn faoi shábháilteacht, beannaíonn tú sinn le deolchaire.

Grant me courage,
Grant me strength,
Grant me wisdom
Guide my axe,
Guide my wrath,
Guide me to glory in the name of the old gods and new ...


Tabhair misneach dom,
Tabhair neart dom,
Tabhair eagna dom
Treoraigh mo thua,
Treoraigh mo fhearg,
Treoraigh mé chun glóire in ainm na seandéithe agus na ndéithe nua

2.)

"My mother told me
Some day I would buy
Galleys with good oars
Sail to distant shores
Stand up high on the prow
Noble barque I steer
Steady course to the haven
Hew many foe-men

Oars churn the waters
Under starlit skies
Honor to our fathers
We shall never die

Gather all ye (you) horsemen
Sword and shield ye (you) wield
March t'ward (toward) your victory
O'er (Over) blood red fields"

"Dúirt mo mháthair liom
go gceannóinn galláin le ratha maithe lá éigin
agus sheolfainn go cladaí i bhfad i gcéin
go seasfainn suas go hard ar an bpraine
ag stiúradh loinge maorga
ag déanamh cúrsa seasta don tearmann
agus go leor naimhde a mharú

Cuireann ratha ars na huiscí
faoi na réaltaí a sholas sa spéartha
Tugaimid onóir dár n-aithreacha
Ní bhfaighidh muid bás go deo

Druidigí isteach sibh, a mharcra
ag caitheamh do chlaíomh agus do sciatha
Déanaimis máirseáil i dtreo do bhua
ar pháirceanna cródhearga"


3.) ... it's only business ... [Old Irish: It's only the usual thing. > Is in rét gnámh ed nammá. OR (like modern Irish) Neimní and acht in rét gnámh.

Modern Irish: Níl ann ach gnó.

4.) No mercy for the wicked [Old Irish: We can't forgive the son of death. > Ní séitir lenn in macc báis doluigi. (It's not able with us son of death to forgive.)]???

Modern Irish: Níl trócaire ar bith ar an chiontach.

The fact that you even took time to translate some of it, and DON'T want compensation, I can't thank you enough.

You guys are awesome.

While this is for a funeral, it's not going to be on a gravestone, but rather a literal shield, to be buried with my Grandfather.

As a side note, he also has a sword he's going to be buried with when the time comes.

Anyway, thank you guys SOOO much. If I can repay you, PLEASE let me know

One correction:

Tabhair misneach dom,
Tabhair neart dom,
Tabhair eagna dom
Treoraigh mo thua,
Treoraigh m'fhearg,
Treoraigh mé chun glóire in ainm na seandéithe agus na ndéithe nua

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I'm not a native (or entirely fluent) speaker, so be sure to wait for confirmations/corrections, especially for tattoos.