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O Mhic Na Bithe! Dean iomradh orm air thalaimh ach an cuimhnich mi ort 'na mo n�amh: mar sin ni Mo sh�ilean agus do sh�ilean-sa co-gh�irdeachas. |
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A Mhic An Tsaoil! Tr�cht orm ar mo thalamh chun go gcuimhneoidh m� ort ar mo neamh; is amhlaidh a thabharfar s�l�s do do shúile agus do mo shúilese. |
O Son of Being! Make mention of Me on My earth, that in My heaven I may remember thee, thus shall Mine eyes and thine be solaced.
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O Mhic Na Righ-Chathrach! Is e do chlaisneachd-sa Mo chlaisneachd - �isd leatha. Is e Mo shealladh do shealladh-sa - faic leis, ach an toir thu fianuis 'nad anam air Mo naomhachd ro�rdaichte agus gun toir Mise, annam fh�in, fianuis air inbhe ro-�rdaichte dhuitsa. |
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A Mhic Na R�chathaoireach! Is � d��isteacht m��isteachtsa cluin tusa l�i! Is � do radharc mo radharcsa, f�ach tusa leis, chun go dtabharfaidh tú fianaise i d�anam istigh i dtaobh mo naofachta ardaithe agus go dtabharfaidh mise fianaise istigh ionam f�in i dtaobh c�im�ocht ardaithe faoi do choinnese. |
O Son of the Throne! Thy hearing is My hearing, hear thou therewith. Thy sight is My sight, do thou see therewith, that in thine inmost soul thou mayest testify unto My exalted sanctity, and I within Myself may bear witness unto an exalted station for thee.
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O Mhic Na Bithe! Sir b�s martaireach 'na mo shlighe-sa, sona 'na mo sh�las agus taingeil airson na dh'�rduicheas mi ach an gabh thu t�mh learn fo bhrat mo r�gheachd air ch�l p�illuin na gl�ire. |
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A Mhic An Tsaoil! Iarr b�s an mhairt�righ i mo chas�n, s�sta le mo thoil agus bu�och as a bhfuil agam le go lu�fidh tú liom faoi cheann bhrat na maorgachta ar chúl thaibearnacal na gl�ire. |
O Son of Being! Seek a martyr's death in My path, content with My pleasure and thankful for that which I ordain, that thou mayest repose with Me beneath the canopy of majesty behind the tabernacle of glory.
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O Mhic An Duine! Smaoinich agus cnuasaich. An e do thoil gum faigheadh tu b�s air do leabaidh na gum frasadh tu t'fhuil air an dust mhartaireach 'na M'aobhar agus, mar sin, gum biodh tu 'nad fhoiliseachadh air M'�rdugh agus 'na do thaisbeanadh air Mo sholus anns a' ph�rras as �irde. Thoir brath ceart, a sheirbhisich! |
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A Mhic An Duine! Meabhraigh agus d�an machnamh! An � is mian leat b�s a fh�il ar do leaba n� fuil do bheatha a dhoirteadh ar an luaith mar mhairt�reach i mo Chos�n ag d�anamh d�ot f�in, d� bharr, taispe�nadh ar m�aithne agus foilsitheoir mo thola sa pharthas is airde? Tabhair breith air mar is ceart, a sheirbh�seach! |
O Son of Man! Ponder and reflect. Is it thy wish to die upon thy bed, or to shed thy life-blood on the dust, a martyr in My path, and so become the manifestation of My command and the revealer of My light in the highest paradise? Judge thou aright, O servant!
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O Mhic An Duine! Air M'�irdhearcas; tha gun sm�l thu fait do chinn le t'fhuil nas motha 'na mo shealladhsa na cruthachadh an domhain agus soilise an d� shaoghail. Str� mar sin a thighinn a dh'ionnsaigh na h-�re seo. |
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A Mhic An Duine!
Dar m�ailleacht! Is m� liom dath na fola ar do ghruaig n� cruthú na cruinne go l�ir agus n� solas an d� shaol. D�an iarracht a leith�id a chur i gcr�ch, a sheirbh�seach! |
O Son of Man! By My beauty! To tinge thy hair with thy blood is greater in My sight than the creation of the universe and the light of both worlds. Strive then to attain this, O servant!
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O Mhic An Duine! Tha comharradh ann airson gach n�. 'Se comharradh gr�idh cruadaias fo m'�ithntean agus foghaidean fo mo dheuchainnean. |
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A Mhic An Duine! T� comhartha ann do gach aon n�. Is � comhartha an ghr� buanseasmhacht in aghaidh mo reachta agus foighne le mo ghearrtha. |
O Son of Man! For everything there is a sign. The sign of love is fortitude under My decree and patience under My trials.
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O Mhic An Duine! Tha an fh�or fhear-gr�idh a' sireadh �mhghair eadhon mar a tha an ceannairceach ag iarraidh maitheanais agus am peacach tr�cair. |
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A Mhic An Duine! B�onn an f�orfhear gr� ag tnúth le d�l�s mar a bh�onn an ceannairceach ag tnúth le maithiúnas agus an peacach le tr�caire. |
O Son of man! The true lover yearneth for tribulation even as doth the rebel for forgiveness and the sinful for mercy.
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O Mhic An Duine! Mur a bi doilgheas agad 'na Mo shlighe-sa, ciamar a choisicheas tu anns na slighean acasan a tha sona 'na Mo thlachd? Mur a coinnich thu cruaidh-chasan 'na t-iarrtus coinneachadh Rium, ciamar a gheibh thu solus 'na do ghr�dh air m'�irdhearcas. |
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A Mhic An Duine! Mura n-�ir�onn anachain duit i mo chos�n conas a fh�adann tú siúl i slite an dreama úd at� s�sta le mo thoil? Mura gcuirtear f�achaint ort agus tú ag dúil le casadh liom conas a bhainfidh tú amach an solas ar mh�id do ghr� ar m��illeacht. |
O Son of Man! If adversity befall thee not in My path, how canst thou walk in the ways of them that are content with My pleasure? If trials afflict thee not in thy longing to meet Me, how wilt thou attain the light in thy love for My beauty?
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O Mhic An Duine! 'Se mo dhoilgheas mo fhreasdal: bho'n taobh a muigh chan eil ann ach teine agus d�oghaltas, ach a staigh 'se th'ann solus agus tr�cair. Dean cabhag gu bhith 'nad sholus s�orruidh agus 'nad spiorad bith-bhuan. Is e seo M' �rdugh dhuit, s�all ris! |
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A Mhic An Duine! Is � mo thubaiste m�oirchill. Ar an taobh amuigh tine agus d�oltas at� ann ach ar an taobh istigh is solas agus tr�caire �. Deifrigh chuige le go nd�anfar solas s�ora� agus spiorad neamhbh�smhar d�ot. Is � seo m�aithne duit. Comhl�on tusa �! |
O Son of Man! My calamity is My providence, outwardly it is fire and vengeance, but inwardly it is light and mercy. Hasten thereunto that thou mayest become an eternal light and an immortal spirit. This is My command unto thee, do thou observe it.
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O Mhic An Duine! Ged thigeadh soirbheachadh ort na dean g�irdeachas; agus ged thigeadh �sleachadh na dean caoid, oir theid iad le ch�ile thairis is cha bhi iad tuilleadh ann. |
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A Mhic An Duine! M� bhaineann an s�an duit, n� b�odh �thas ort, agus m� thagann an uir�sliocht ort, n� d�an dobr�n, �ir rachaidh siad thart araon agus n� bheidh siad ann feasta go deo. |
O Son of Man! Should prosperity befall thee, rejoice not, and should abasement come upon thee, grieve not, for both shall pass away and be no more.
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O Mhic Na Bithe! Ged thigeadh bochdainn ort na bi d�ruinneach, oir, na th�de, tadhailidh tighearna a' bheartais ort. Na biodh eagal �sleachaidh ort oir laighidh gl�ir ort fhathast. |
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A Mhic An Tsaoil! M� thagann bochtanas ort n� b�odh br�n ort, �ir tiocfaidh Tiarna an tsaibhris ar cuairt ort himeacht aimsire. N� b�odh eagla ort roimh an uir�sleacht, �ir su�fidh an ghl�ir ort l� �igin feasta. |
O Son of Being! If poverty overtake thee, be not sad; for in time the Lord of wealth shall visit thee. Fear not abasement, for glory shall one day rest on thee.
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O Mhic An Duine! Ma tha do chridhe an t�ir air an r�oghachd sh�orruidh, neo-sheargte, agus air a' bheatha cian, bith-bhuan seo, tr�ig an t-uachdranas ge�rr agus b�smhor seo. |
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A Mhic An Tsaoil! M� t� dúil do chro� agat sa tiarnas s�ora�, bithbheo agus sa bheatha sheanda, shuthain seo tr�ig an flaitheas b�smhar neamhbhuan seo. |
O Son of Being! If thine heart be set upon this eternal, imperishable dominion, and this ancient, everlasting life, forsake this mortal and fleeting sovereignty.
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O Mhic An Duine! Na toir thu fh�in do ch�isean an t-saoghail seo oir le teine dearbhar an t-�r agus le �r dearbhaidh sinn ar seirbhisich. |
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A Mhic An Tsaoil! N� b� ag gabh�il den saol seo, mar is le tine a fh�achaimid an t-�r agus is le h�r a fh�achaimid �r seirbh�sigh. |
O Son of Being! Busy not thyself with this world, for with fire We test the gold, and with gold We test Our servants.
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O Mhic An Duine! Tha thusa sireadh an oir agus tha mise ri do shaoradh bhuaithe. Tha thusa 'gad fhaicinn fh�in saoibhir 'na sheiibh ach tha mise faicinn do shaoibhreas 'nad naomhachd as aonais. Air m'onair is e seo M'e�1as agus is e sin do bheachdsa: ciamar a cho-ch�rdas Mo shlighe agus do shlighe-sa? |
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A Mhic An Duine! Iarrann tú an t-�r agus iarraimse tú a bheith fuascailte uaidh. S�leann tú go bhfuil tú saibhir agus � i do sheilbh agat: aithn�mse do shaibhreas ina �amais. Dar mo bheatha! is � seo m�eolas-sa agus is � sin do sheachmall; conas is f�idir le do shl�-se r�iteach le do shl�-se? |
O Son of Man! Thou dost wish for gold and I desire thy freedom from it. Thou thinkest thyself rich in its possession, and I recognize thy wealth in thy sanctity therefrom. By My life! This is My knowledge, and that is thy fancy; how can My way accord with thine?
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O Mhic An Duine! Roinn mo shaoibhreas a measq nam bochd ach an tarruing thu ann an n�amh a st�ir lainnir nach crion agus a ionmhas gl�ir nach failnich. Ach, air m'fhocal nam faiceadh tu le Mo shoil-sa chitheadh tu gur e i�bart t'anam an n� as g1�irmhoire. |
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A Mhic An Duine! Bronn mo shaibhreas ar mo bhoicht chun go dtarraingeoidh tú as st�rtha niamhrachta s�orúra agus as ionmhais gl�ire dochaite. Ach dar mo bheatha! d�anam a thabhairt suas, t� s� sin n�os gl�rmhaire, d� mba rud � go bhf�adf� tusa a fheiscint le mo shúilse. |
O Son of Man! Bestow My wealth upon My poor, that in heaven thou mayest draw from stores of unfading splendor and treasures of imperishable glory. But by My life! To offer up thy soul is a more glorious thing couldst thou but see with Mine eye.
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O Mhic An Duine! 'Se teampull na beatha mo r�gh-chathair. Glan i o gach ni ach an daingnichear mi innte agus gu fan mi innte. |
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A Mhic An Duine!
Is � teampall na beatha mo r�chathaoirse; glan �n uile n� � le go mb�ann a shu�fear m� agus le go mb�ann a ch�no�dh m�. |
O Son of Man! The temple of being is My throne; cleanse it of all things, that there I may be established and there I may abide.
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O Mhic Na Bithe! 'Se do chridhe M'aite-t�imh: naomhaich e mu choinneimh Mo th�arnaidh. 'Se do spiorad M'aitetaisbeanaich: glan e gu Mo shoiliseachadh. |
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A Mhic An Tsaoil! Is � do chro� m��it ch�na�; coisreac i gc�ir mo thuirlingthe �. Is � do spiorad m��it taispe�nta, glan faoi choinne m�fhoilsithe �. |
O Son of Being! Thy heart is My home; sanctify it for My descent. Thy spirit is My place of revelation; cleanse it for My manifestation.
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O Mhic An Duine! Cuir do lamh 'na mo bhroilleach ach an �irich Mi os do chionn, boilisgeach agus lainnireach. |
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A Mhic An Duine! Cuir do l�mh isteach i m�ucht le go n-�ireoidh m� lonrach, dealraitheach os do chionn. |
O Son of Man! Put thy hand into My bosom, that I may rise above thee, radiant and resplendent.
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