22. A `Ghrian: Sung by Rita Connolly with Cord Gord ' rer Garth and the Cornish Choirs Kerensa and An Tryskell, the Wallacestone Pipeband and Lorient Festival Orchestra. The text in Scots Gaelic comes from the Isle of Barra in the Outer Hebrides and consists of very ancient traditional verses relating to the worship of the sun and concluding with a fusion of this older tradition with the newer Christian tradition brought to Scotland by Colum Cille;`I am in hope, in its proper time, that the great and gracious God will not put out for me the light of grace even as thou dost leave me this night'.
A` Ghrian (To The Sun)
Anon. From the Isle of Barra
Hail to thee, thou sun of the seasons
As thou traversest the skies aloft,
Thy steps are strong on the wing of the heavens, Thou art the glorious mother
of the stars.
Thou liest down in the destructive ocean
Without impairment and without fear;
Thou risest up on the peaceful wave-crest
Like a queenly maiden in bloom. I
am in hope, in its proper time,
That the great and gracious God
Will not put out for me the light of grace
Even as thou dost leave me this night.
A` Ghrian
Failte ort féin, a sharian nan tráth,
`S tu siubhal ard nan speur,
Do cheumaibh treun air sgéith nan ard,
`S tu máthair áigh nan reul.
Thu laighe sios an cuan na dith,
Gun diobhail is gun sgath:
Thu'g éirigh suas air stuagh na sith,
Mar rioghainn og for blaith.
Tha misr an dochas `na thrath
Nach cuir Dia mor nan agh
As domhsa solas nan gras
Mar tha thusa dha m`fhagail a nochd.
A` Ghrian (To The Sun)
Anon. From the Isle of Barra
Hail to thee, thou sun of the seasons
As thou traversest the skies aloft,
Thy steps are strong on the wing of the heavens, Thou art the glorious mother
of the stars.
Thou liest down in the destructive ocean
Without impairment and without fear;
Thou risest up on the peaceful wave-crest
Like a queenly maiden in bloom. I
am in hope, in its proper time,
That the great and gracious God
Will not put out for me the light of grace
Even as thou dost leave me this night.
A` Ghrian
Failte ort féin, a sharian nan tráth,
`S tu siubhal ard nan speur,
Do cheumaibh treun air sgéith nan ard,
`S tu máthair áigh nan reul.
Thu laighe sios an cuan na dith,
Gun diobhail is gun sgath:
Thu'g éirigh suas air stuagh na sith,
Mar rioghainn og for blaith.
Tha misr an dochas `na thrath
Nach cuir Dia mor nan agh
As domhsa solas nan gras
Mar tha thusa dha m`fhagail a nochd.