An Oigh agus an Leanabh (Virgin and Child)
Chunnacas an Oigh, Criosda gu h-og 'na h-uchd.
A Mhoir Oighe, agus a Mhic,
Beannaich an taigh agus a luchd.
Beannaich am biadh, beannaich am bord,
Beannaich an dias, an triall 's an stor.
An trath bha oirnn a raithe gann, is tu fèin, Oighe, bu mhathair dhuinn.
Is gill thu na ghealach earra-gheal ag èirigh air an tulaich.
Is gil thu na ghrian cheit-ghil, fo eibhneas subhach.
Mise gille Mhic Dè an cois an dorais,
A uchd Dè, èirich fèin is fosgail dhomh e.
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Behold the Virgin, Child at breast,
O Mary Virgin! O Holy Child!
Bless ye this house and all therein.
Bless ye the food, bless ye the board,
Bless ye the corn, the flock, and stores.
When things were scarce, were ye, O Mary, mother to us.
Thou art brighter than the waxing moon, rising over the mountains.
Thou art brighter than the summer sun, under the fullness of joy.
Servant am I of god the Son, standing here on the threshold,
For the sake of God, arise thyself and open to me.
A Mhoir Oighe, agus a Mhic,
Beannaich an taigh agus a luchd.
Beannaich am biadh, beannaich am bord,
Beannaich an dias, an triall 's an stor.
An trath bha oirnn a raithe gann, is tu fèin, Oighe, bu mhathair dhuinn.
Is gill thu na ghealach earra-gheal ag èirigh air an tulaich.
Is gil thu na ghrian cheit-ghil, fo eibhneas subhach.
Mise gille Mhic Dè an cois an dorais,
A uchd Dè, èirich fèin is fosgail dhomh e.
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Behold the Virgin, Child at breast,
O Mary Virgin! O Holy Child!
Bless ye this house and all therein.
Bless ye the food, bless ye the board,
Bless ye the corn, the flock, and stores.
When things were scarce, were ye, O Mary, mother to us.
Thou art brighter than the waxing moon, rising over the mountains.
Thou art brighter than the summer sun, under the fullness of joy.
Servant am I of god the Son, standing here on the threshold,
For the sake of God, arise thyself and open to me.