Lyrics Wheel of the Year EN
Samhain Has Come
Lyrics: 1st part by Myriam Carl Ayuna and 2nd part is an old Irish blessing found on the following website: https://strengthessence.com/samhain-blessing
Tá Samhain tagtha
d’éirigh na scim tanaí
tá an ghealach dorcha
cosúil le cleite préacháin
cuirimid cosc ar gach dochar
agus onóir a thabhairt do na mairbh
Samhain has come
the veils grew thin
the moon is dark
like a crow’s feather
we banish all harm
and honour the dead
Blessed be the ancestors the ones whom life has fled.
Tonight we merry meet again, our own beloved dead.
The wheel of the year turns on, a new year in our sights.
The maiden has become the crone, we celebrate this night.
Das alte Heiligtum
Lyrics: Myriam Carl Ayuna
Der Weg zum alten Heiligtum
Gesäumt von Haselstrauch
Von Eichen mit Mistelpflanzen
Besetzt nach altem Brauch
Der führet uns zu den alten Steinen
Die bald von der Sonne umarmt
Und wenn das Licht von Neuem geboren
Vom Sonnenkranz werden umrahmt
Refrain:
Wir feiern das Licht
Wir feiern die Sonne
Wir feiern das Licht
Das uns an diesem Tage neu geboren
Der ganze Clan ist hier versammelt
Gereist von nah und fern
Die Wege waren schon vereist
Als sie folgten dem Abendstern
Wir packen ein die Opfergaben
Und machen uns auf den Weg
Die Priester schreiten voran und tragen
Das Feuer unentwegt
Refrain:
Wir feiern das Licht
Wir feiern die Sonne
Wir feiern das Licht
Das uns an diesem Tage neu geboren
Die Spannung steigt, die Trommeln schlagen
Gesänge tönen laut
Ein Raunen durch die Menge geht
Als den Strahl wir all geschaut
Das Licht dringt durch die alte Pforte
die das Neue Jahr anzeigt
Die Priester singen heilige Worte
Als die Flamm‘ in die Höhe steigt
Wir feiern das Licht
Wir feiern die Sonne
Wir feiern das Licht
Das uns an diesem Tage neu geboren
English translation:
The way to the old sanctuary
Seamed by hazelnut
And oak trees with mistletoe
According to the old customs
It leads us to the old stones,
which soon will be embraced by the sun
and when the light will be born anew,
be framed by the sun’s corona
Refrain:
We celebrate the light
We celebrate the sun
We celebrate the light,
that is born to us anew on this day
The whole clan is gathered here,
they traveled from nearby and far away,
the roads were already icy,
when they followed the evening star
We pack the sacrificial offerings
And set off
The priests pace ahead
And are carrying the fire steadfastly
Refrain:
We celebrate the light
We celebrate the sun
We celebrate the light,
that is born to us anew on this day
The tension rises, the drums beat
Loud singing is heard
A murmuration goes through the crowd
As we all see the beam
The light pierces the old gate
That marks the beginning of the new year
The priests are singing holy words
As the flame rises up high
Refrain:
We celebrate the light
We celebrate the sun
We celebrate the light,
that is born to us anew on this day
Gabhaim Molta Bríde
Lyrics: traditional Irish
Gabhaim molta Bríde,
Ionmhain i le hEirinn,
Ionmhain le gach tir i
Molaimis go léir i.
Lóchrann geal na Laighneach
A’ soilsiú feadh na tire,
Ceann ar óoghaibh Éireann
Ceann na mban ar mine.
Tig an eimhreadh dian dubh
‘Ggearradh lena ghéire
Ach ar lá ’le Bríde
Gar dúinn earrach Éireann.
English Translation:
I pay homage to Saint Brigid
Beloved in Ireland,
Beloved in all countries,
Let us all praise her.
The bright torch of Leinster
Shining throughout the country.
The pride of Irish youth
The pride of our gentle women.
The house of winter is very dark
Cutting with its sharpness.
But on Saint Brigid’s Day
Spring is near to Ireland.
The Maypole
Lyrics: Myriam Carl Ayuna
Come with us to the woods to search
A blackthorn and a birch
Come all ye lads and lassies bring
Milk for the fairies to drink
The small folk points us to where we might find
A Maypole, one of a kind
And where to quietly collect the sacred woods nine
That make our bonfires shine
Come with us to the village green
Watch our fair May Queen
Whirling around in dances gay
Hear the fiddlers play
The maidens weave their ribbons into the Maypole bright
To celebrate life this night
We form a holy texture, all girls and boys,
that earth and sky may rejoice
In this night,
the Great Goddess and the Hunter King,
will unite,
and thus their union, may abundance bring
Nun ist Mittsommerzeit
Lyrics: Myriam Carl Ayuna
Nun ist Mittsommerzeit,
die Tage strahlend lang
die weißen Nächte schallen
von Fiedel und Gesang
Ich lass‘ die Hände ruhen,
das Tagwerk ist getan,
bald geh’n wir Mädchen tanzen
zum Anger nach Borghamn
Dort schäkern wir und lachen,
wohl mit den Burschen jung,
die Leichtigkeit beflügelt
unser Kreistänze Schwung
Sind uns’re Füße müde,
so gehen wir zum Fluss,
und pflücken Wiesenkräuter,
den Ahnen zum Gruß
Bald seh‘ ich meinen Liebsten,
wohl heut‘ zur späten Nacht,
wenn Gundermann im Kranze
über meinen Schlummer wacht
Der Liebste kam im Traume,
die Beine voller Blut,
er kämpft im fernen Kriege,
mit verzweifeltem Mut
Werd‘ ich ihn jemals finden?
Es schwindet sein Gesicht
Ich hoff‘ er kann beschreiten
Den Weg ins Sommerlicht
English translation:
Midsummer time has come,
the days are long and bright
the white nights sound
with fiddle and song
I let my hands rest
The work of the day is done
Soon I will go to dance with the girls
At the village green of Borghamn
There we are going to flirt and laugh
With the young lads
Easiness spurs the drive
Of our round dances
When our feet are tired,
we will go to the river
and will pluck field herbs
to salute our ancestors
Soon I will see my loved one,
well at today’s late night time
when ground ivy in my wreath
Guards my slumber
My loved one came in a dream,
his legs full of blood,
In a distant war, he is fighting
with desperate courage
Will I ever find him?
His face is disappearing
I hope he will be able
To take the path to the summer light
Lúnasa
Lyrics: written by Jürgen Zeidler
Na goirt a gearradh go léir,
tá an t-arbhar ar chairt agh,
grán agus glasraí déanta:
fómhar fairsing a crapadh.
Tá cairt comhlán ag tarraingt
na ndias ramhar don ghráinseach;
fágtar burlaí féir bhainte
mar bia na mbó is na n-each.
Is iontach aobhinn an lá
ar fud na háite ar fad,
tá na daoine sona sámh,
ag dúil le dul san ionad.
Cruinníonn an slua san oíche
in aice leis an altóir,
an chéad bharr arbha ’íobairt,
le bláthann’ álainn mar óir.
Tá bábóga thuí déanta
as soip dhéanacha sa phairc
mar áitreabh anama ghráin
go dtí ’n t-earrach, barr amhairc.
Amhail máithreacha ’n arbhair
athghinfidh Tailte thorthúil
faoi thalamh go dtéifidh sí
ar ais mar maighdean ag súil.
D’eagraigh a mac altrama
sochraid spleodrach i dTailtin,
fleá is féasta, rás carbad,
filíocht chaoin agus ceol binn.
Bhí mac Chiain is Eithne chaomh
ina thaoiseach na dTuath Dé
i gcath ’gcoinne Fomhóraigh:
Is é Fionntan an finné.
Tá an laoch lonn chomh sciliúil
le gae agus le cláirseach .
Chum sé an ficheall chomh maith,
an tiarna neamhaí na neach.
Cuireann glór ceilte anuas
tomhas ar thionól mar leanas:
« Cé hé atá faoin uisce,
ach ná mbánn, ná bhfaigheann bás?
Cé hé ’tá brat gorm geal air,
ach ní féidir a fheiceáil?
Cé ’itheann muc iomlán, ach
’éiríonn leis ar ais a fáil? »
English translation:
The fields have been completely mown,
the grain lies on the ox cart,
Grain and vegetables have been made:
A rich harvest has been brought in.
The overcrowded cart pulls
the thick ears of corn to the granary;
Bundles of cut hay are left behind
as food for cows and horses.
Glorious and wonderful is the day
everywhere in the whole place,
People are happy and peaceful,
They’re happy to go to the meeting place.
The crowd gathers in the evening
near the altar,
to offer the first fruits of the field,
with beautiful flowers as of gold.
Straw dolls have been made
from the last stalks in the field
as an abode of the grain soul,
until spring, a feast for the eyes.
Like the grain mothers
the fertile Tailtiu regenerates herself
underground, until she comes back
as a hopeful young girl.
Her foster son arranged
a lavish funeral in Teltown,
a festive celebration, a chariot race,
fine poetry and sweet music.
The son of Cian and dear Eithne
was the leader of the Tuatha Dé
in the fight against the Fomorians:
Fintan (Mac Bóchra) is a witness.
The fierce hero is as skilled
with the spear as with the harp.
He also invented the game of chess,
the heavenly lord of all.
A hidden voice from above poses
a riddle to the assembly as follows:
“Who is it that is under the water,
but who does not drown, who does not die?
Who is it that wears a blue and white cloak,
but cannot be seen?
Who eats a whole pig, but
manages to get it back?”
Ar C’halan-Goañv
Lyrics: written by Jürgen Zeidler
- Teñvalijenn a gouezh henozh,
korventenn o c’hwezh’ hep ken poz,
er c’hozhamzer e-pad nozhvezh.
Kouezh’ ’ra delioù gwez diwezhañ,
an eost ’zo echuet ar pred-mañ :
Erru eo Kalan-goañv all vezh. - An dud oll a vez er vered,
penndaoulin’ a reont hep voned
war ar goueled noazh er bedenn.
Un niver peurleun a vleunioù
– arouez ar vuhez – war vezioù,
ha laezh e kevioù mein ouzhpenn. - Ar ouel sekred ’tre ar bedioù
a dro d’amspis ha bresk hiziv,
o figurioù ’emell sioulant.
Boudoù Argoad oc’h ebatal :
Bugul-Noz, spered ar bed-all,
euzhik, met a c’hall bout chalmant. - Nav c’horrigan a ra dañsal
gant bleuñv en o blev fich, dichal
aze ’tal d’un andon balbouz.
Meur a c’horrandoned añsien
a grib o fenn rodell velen
ha kanañ sonenn a-grenn dous. - Met ivez Ankoù sebezus
Roue ’n Anaon, baron spontus,
gant e falz wastuz ’zo du-se.
Sellit e garrigell heloc’h,
ar pevar marc’h teñval kalloc’h !
N’int ket ken peoc’hus ha, ’zioc’h, Doue. - En Arvor izel avelek
ez erru ar Bag-noz truek.
Eneoù truezek, diouzh ar rekiz,
’ya e-barzh ha redek a-benn
ouzh enez vrav ar re laouen.
Distro ’raint d’Hollsent e ken giz.
English translation:
1. Darkness is descending tonight,
the storm blowing without a break
in autumn during the eventide.
The last leaves of the trees are falling,
the harvest is finished by this time:
Halloween has come once more.
2. All the people are in the cemetery,
they are kneeling without a cap
on the bare ground in prayer.
An abundant number of flowers
– signs of life – are on the graves
and also milk in the hollows of the stones.
3. The secret veil between the worlds
becomes vague and fragile today,
their shapes mingling silently.
Creatures of the Woodland are cavorting:
Bugul-Noz, a spirit of the Otherworld,
terrible, but who can be charming.
4. Nine corrigans are dancing
with flowers in their fair hair, gaily
there by a babbling fountain.
Many of the ancient Korrandons
are combing their blond curly heads
and singing a perfectly sweet melody.
5. But also the horrible Ankou,
king of the souls of the dead, terrifying prince,
is there with his devastating sickle.
Behold his smooth-running chariot,
the four dark stallions!
They are not so peaceful as, above, God.
6. On the windy low Seaside,
the miserable Ship of the dead is anchored.
Pitiful souls, of necessity,
board and drive off immediately,
to the beautiful Isle of the Blessed.
They will return on All Saints in a different guise.
Dy’gol Brigid
Lyrics: written by Jürgen Zeidler
- Madama sans yn Morvedh,
arlodhes pur an tiredh,
a vestres fur pub kreft oll,
golowha splann dha gantol!
Enow tanjysow lentrus
war alsyow serth an morrep
hag orth Chi ’n Woon worthenep,
ha diskwa dhyn dha varthus! - An sanses ha gwithyades
Iwerdhon hag oll denses
’dhynergh an jydh dhe’n bora
gans golow rudh lowena.
’Ma nownsek gonisoges
heb hedhi owth omguntel
yn tyller pell ha sansel
rag gwitha’y than hag oles. - An vaghteth pur a’s teves
yn hy garth fenten yeghes.
Tus ha miles nes ha pell
a dheu rag dos ha bos gwell.
Mar wober an yaghheans
y stagons snodow gwias
war skorrow gwydh yn ogas,
po gasa bleujyow, arghans. - Ha’n venyn gonnyk ’berghen
gelfornow pooth dres eghen.
Yna y hwovel soghyow
ha horn margh ha kledhedhyow,
pub taklow oll a’n gwella.
Ha hi ow kul hwel kales,
hy diwvogh a rudh yn es,
ha pub prys minhwerthin ’wra. - « Dyskyblon a’th eus yn ta,
a holyas kens Sen Brega
dhe fondya eglos vryntin
Pluw Vrek », yn-medh an werin.
’Dhuwes tryflek deboner,
ro dhyn ni dha wolow sans,
pub eur oll dha wolowyans,
may kyffyn ni fordh ewnder!
English translation:
1. Holy Lady in Morvah,
pure sovereign of the region,
o wise mistress of all crafts,
Light your candle brightly!
Kindle glittering bonfires
on the steep cliffs of the seashore
and at Chûn Castle on the other side,
and show us thy wonder!
2. The saint and patron
of Ireland and all mankind
greets the day at dawn
with the red light of joy.
Nineteen servants
gather steadily
in a distant and sacred place
to tend her fire and hearth.
3. The pure maiden has
a healing well in her enclosure.
People and animals, near and far,
come to be healed.
In return for the recovery
they hang cloth ribbons
on the branches of nearby trees,
or they leave flowers, money.
4. And the skilful woman possesses
Forge fires, tremendously hot.
There she forges ploughshares
and hooves and swords,
all things of the best.
While she is hard at work,
her cheeks redden easily
and she smiles all the time.
5. “You also have students,
who once followed St Breage
to found the magnificent church of
Breage,” say the people.
O threefold great-hearted Goddess,
give us thy holy light,
thy perpetual enlightenment,
that we may find the path of sincerity!
Calan Haf
Lyrics: written by Jürgen Zeidler
Daw dechrau’r Haf yn araf,
gorffenna’r Gaeaf ’ddiau,
gwanha, gwaela cyn bo hir.
Mae’r Haf, yn wir, yn cryfhau.
Saif y Gaea’ garw ’na,
yn dala ffon draenen ddu
yn llaw, a tharian druan
a chan o nyf ar ei du.
Gyferbyn y mae’r gelyn,
yr hogyn terwyn, yr Haf,
gan wïalen wen helyg,
yr annhebyg arwr braf.
Cesglwch gangau draenen wen,
gadewch eich hendref weithion!
Cenwch, dawnsiwch ar bob math,
dewch i’r twmpath pur yn llon!
Ymladdant i’r difodiant
’ddifaddeuant eu gilydd.
Y naill a deifl gwellt fel mellt,
a dellt a ceinciau prysgwydd.
Ad-dala’r llall yn ddi-ball
y cyrch angall â bedwen,
coronwyd â blodyn gwyn,
â rhedyn a helygen.
Ymladdant megis brwydrant
yn amhendant, yn wastad
Gwythyr udd a Gwyn ap Nudd
am fudd gwreigdda Creiddylad.
Cesglwch gangau draenen wen,
gadewch eich hendref weithion!
Cenwch, dawnsiwch ar bob math,
dewch i’r twmpath pur yn llon!
Diffynnwch hedd pob annedd
yn nhyrfedd yr ysbrydnos
â draenen wen y tu fas,
â fflwyr irlas coed a rhos.
Codwch fedwen fawr yn awr
i lawr ar faes y pendref,
harddwyd â rhyngrwyd blodau
â rubanau hyd adref.
Agorwch gae y chwarae
i arae crwth a thelyn
a dechrau carolau Haf,
mwynhewch gyntaf meddyglyn!
Cesglwch gangau draenen wen,
gadewch eich hendref weithion!
Cenwch, dawnsiwch ar bob math,
dewch i’r twmpath pur yn llon!
English translation:
Slowly the beginning of summer arrives,
winter ends without a doubt,
in a little while it grows weak and scanty.
The summer becomes strong indeed.
There is the harsh winter,
holding a staff of blackthorn
in his hand, and a shield, poor
and white with snow, at his side.
Opposite him the enemy,
the strong young man, Summer,
with a white willow rod,
the unequal handsome hero.
Refrain:
Gather branches of the hawthorn,
leave now your winter home!
Sing, dance in every way,
come to the fairground most merrily!
They fight to destruction
unforgivingly with each other.
The one throws straw like lightning
and logs and branches from the undergrowth.
The other keeps returning
the ill-advised attack with a birch tree,
crowned with a white flower,
with fern and willow tree.
They are fighting
to a draw, unceasingly,
as Gwythyr the Lord and Gwyn ap Nudd fight
for the gain of the noblewoman Creiddylad.
Refrain:
Gather branches of the hawthorn,
leave now your winter home!
Sing, dance in every way,
come to the fairground most merrily!
Protect the peace of each abode
in the turbulence of the Haunted Night
with hawthorn on the façade,
with fresh flowers of the forest and the heath!
Erect now a huge maypole,
down on the village green,
adorned with a web of flowers
and ribbons, as far as possible!
Open the playing-field
For the array of fiddle and harp
and begin the summer songs,
enjoy the Metheglin first!
Refrain:
Gather branches of the hawthorn,
leave now your winter home!
Sing, dance in every way,
come to the fairground most merrily!
Wheel of the Year
Lyrics: Myriam Carl Ayuna
The world turns in circles, in circles on and on
Our lives entwine in circles, in circles on and on
Death and rebirth
Light and darkness
Bliss and despair
Sound and silence
Rise and decay
Tension relaxation
Heaven and earth
Winter and summer
Blossom and fruit
Fruit and seed
Seed and plant
Plant and blossom
Feel the movement,
turning, returning
Ride the waves
Up and down
Attraction repulsion
Repulsion attraction
Attraction repulsion
Repulsion attraction
What do you create?
What creates you?
The world breathes in cycles, in cycles on and on
Our lives unfold in cycles, in cycles on and on
The wheel of the year turns on,
spinning, spinning
