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O Mo Chàirdean! Coisichibh ann an slighean deagh shòlais a' Charaid agus bidh fhios agad gu bheil a shòlas-san ann an sòlas a chreutairean. Is e sin; cha bu chòir do dhuine dhol a steach a thaigh a charaid ach mar a b'àill le charaid fhèin e, gun làmh a chur air ionmhas nan gun cuireadh e thoil fhèin roimh thoil a charaid is ann an doigh sam bith lamh an uachdair fhaighinn air. Comasaich seo ach am faigh thu fiosrachadh. |
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A Chairde! Siúlaigí i slite dhea-thoil an Charad agus bíodh fhios agaibh gurb é is toil leis an ní atá ag teacht le toil a chuid créatúr. Is é sin: ná téadh duine ar bith isteach i dteach a charad ach le toil a charad, ná leagadh sé lámh ar a chuid maoine, ná déanadh sé rogha dá thoil féin thar thoil a charad ná ná déanadh sé iarracht suí ina bhun ar dhóigh ar bith. Déanaigí machnamh air sin, a lucht na tuisceana! |
O My Friends! Walk ye in the ways of the good pleasure of the Friend, and know that His pleasure is in the pleasure of His creatures. That is: no man should enter the house of his friend save at his friend's pleasure, nor lay hands upon his treasures nor prefer his own will to his friend's, and in no wise seek an advantage over him. Ponder this, ye that have insight!
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O Chompanaich Mo Righ-Chathrach! Na faic oic 's na labhair olc; na 'islich thu fhèin is na osnaich is na gul. Na labhair olc chum is nach cluinn thu e air a labhairt riut agus na meudaich easbhuidhean chàich a chum is nach bi t'easbhuidhean fhèin a' coimhead cho mór; is na miannaich ìsleachadh neach sam bith mus foilisichear t'isleachadh fhèin. Mar sin caith do làithean, a tha nas giorra na mionaid aithghearr le inntinn fìor-ghlan, do chridhe gun ghò, do smuaintean ionraic agus do chré air a naomhachadh, a chum is, saor agus sona, gun faod thu an corp bàsmhoir a thilgeil uat is gun dean thu air an fhlaitheas dìomhair agus gun còmhnuich thu anns an rioghachd shiorruidh a chaoidh gu bràth. |
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A Chomrádaí mo Ríchathaoireach! Ná héist leis an olc, agus ná féach ar an olc, ná hísligh tú féin, ná hosnaigh agus ná caoi! Ná labhair an t-olc chun nach gcluinfidh tú á labhairt leatsa é, agus ná déan áibhéil ar lochtanna cách le nach bhféachfaidh do lochtanna féin a bheith mór; agus ná hiarr ísliú aonduine chun nach nochtfar d’ísliú féin. Caith, dá bhrí sin, do shaol agus do laethe ar lú iad ná móimint neamhbhuan gan smál ar d’intinn. |
O Companion of My Throne! Hear no evil, and see no evil, abase not thyself, neither sigh and weep. Speak no evil, that thou mayest not hear it spoken unto thee, and magnify not the faults of others that thine own faults may not appear great; and wish not the abasement of anyone, that thine own abasement be not exposed. Live then the days of thy life, that are less than a fleeting moment, with thy mind stainless, thy heart unsullied, thy thoughts pure, and thy nature sanctified, so that, free and content, thou mayest put away this mortal frame, and repair unto the mystic paradise and abide in the eternal kingdom for evermore.
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O Chóin, Ochóin, Luchd-Gaoil Air Anamiannan An t-Saoghal. Eadhon mar luaths an dealanaich ghabh sibh seachad air an fhir-gaoil, is shuidhich sibh ar cridheachan air miannan diabhlaidh. Tha sibh a' lùbadh na glùine air beulaibh ar beachdan dìomhuin, is ag eughachd firinn orra. Tha sibh a' tionndadh ar sùilean chun an dris is ag eughachd sìthean air. Cha do tharruing sibh anail ghlan is cha tainig uspag sgaraidh bho lòintean ar cridheachan. Leig sibh leis a' ghaoith comhairlean blàtha an fhir-ghaoil is sgùr sibh gu tur iad bho chlàr ar cridheachan agus, eadhon mar anmhuidh na buaile, tha sibh beò is a' gluasad air machraichean ana-mianna agus toilinntinn. |
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Faraor Géar! A Lucht Tóraíochta na Hainmhéine SAOLTA! Ar luas splanc tintrí d’imigh sibh thar an Leannán agus tá bhur gcroí leagtha ar mhianta diabhlaí. Feacann sibh glúin do bhur samhlacha baotha agus glaonn an fhírinne orthu. Dearcann sibh ar an spíon agus tugann bláth air. Oiread is anáil ghlan amháin níor tharraing sibh ná níor séideadh feothan an scartha ó léanta bhur gcroí. Scaip sibh chun na ngaoth comhairlí grámhara an Leannáin atá scriosta agaibh go huile agus go hiomlán ó tháibléad bhur gcroí agus, mar a bheadh beithígh an mhachaire ann, gluaiseann sibh agus caitheann sibh bhur saol taobh istigh de thalamh féaraigh na sainte agus na hainmhéine. |
Alas! Alas! O Lovers of Worldly Desire! Even as the swiftness of lightning ye have passed by the Beloved One, and have set your hearts on satanic fancies. Ye bow the knee before your vain imagining, and call it truth. Ye turn your eyes towards the thorn, and name it a flower. Not a pure breath have ye breathed, nor hath the breeze of detachment been wafted from the meadows of your hearts. Ye have cast to the winds the loving counsels of the Beloved and have effaced them utterly from the tablet of your hearts, and even as the beasts of the field, ye move and have your being within the pastures of desire and passion.
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O Bhàrithrean Air An t-Stighe! Carson a dhearmad sibh luaidh air ainm an fhirghaoil is a chum sibh cian bho làthaireachd naomh? Tha brìgh an àilleachd anns a' phàilliuin gun choimeas air a shuidheachadh air rìgh-chathair na glòire, am feadh 'sa tha sibhse dion ri strì dhiomhuin. Tha boltradh chùbhraidh na naomhachd a' séideadh is tha anail na lànachd air aiseig thugaibh, ach tha sibh uile air ar bruthadh gu goirt is cha bheannaich sibh iad. Ochòin dhuibhse agus dhoibhsan tha coiseachd 'nar slighean agus a leantuinn ar cascgeuman! |
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A BHRáITHRE SA TSLí! Cad chiuge an ndearna sibh faillí in ainm an leannáin a lua agus ar sheachain sibh a thearmeann beannaithe? Tá bunús na háilleachta taobh istigh den phailliún éagsamhalta ina shúi ar ríthchathaoir na glóire fhad agus atá sibhse ag gabháil d’achrainn gan chéill. Tá boladh cumhra na naofachta á leathnú amach agus leoithne ne féile á séideadh ach is é rud atá sibhse cráite go géar agus na nithe sin caillte agaibh. Faraor daoibhse agus don dream a leanann de bhur slí! |
O Brethren in the Path! Wherefore have ye neglected the mention of the Loved One, and kept remote from His holy presence? The essence of beauty is within the peerless pavilion, set upon the throne of glory, whilst ye busy yourselves with idle contentions. The sweet savors of holiness are breathing and the breath of bounty is wafted, yet ye are all sorely afflicted and deprived thereof. Alas for you and for them that walk in your ways and follow in your footsteps!
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O Chlann Na h-Ana-mianna! Cuir bhuat trusgan na fèin-ghiòire agus cuir dhiot còmhdach an uaibhreachais. |
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A Chlann Na Hainmhéine! Cuirigí uaibh éide na glóire baoithe, agus bainigí díbh feisteas an uabhair! |
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Anns an trèamh àite de na sreathan naomha air an sgriobhadh sios air á Chlar Dhearg le peann an fhir neo-fhaicsinnich tha seo air a sgriobhadh.
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Scríofa agus curtha i gcuntas sa tríú líne de na línta rónaofa sa Táibléad Rúibíneach le peann an Do-Fheicthe tá sé seo taispeánta:
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O Bhràithrean! Bitheabh caomh ri aon a chéile is na leagaibh ar rùintean air nithean talmhaidh. Na deanamh uaill as ur glòir is na biodh nàire oirbh roimh ìsleachadh. Air m'àilleachd! Chruthaich mi na h-uile a duslach is gu duslach tillidh iad. |
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A Bhráithre! Bígí fadfhulangach lena chéile agus ná suígí bhur gcroí ar na nithe thíos. Ná bígí mórtasach as bhur nglóir, ná ná bíodh náire oraibh as an uirísleacht! Dar mo scéimh! Tá gach rud dá bhfuil ann cruthaithe agam as an gcré, agus is don chré a thabharfaidh mé ar ais iad. |
In the third of the most holy lines writ and recorded in the Ruby Tablet by the pen of the unseen this is revealed:
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O Brethren! Be forbearing one with another and set not your affections on things below. Pride not yourselves in your glory, and be not ashamed of abasement. By My beauty! I have created all things from dust, and to dust will I return them again.
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O Chlann an duslaich! lnnis do na beartaich mu osnaich meadhon-oidhche nam bochd mus toir dearmad iad gu slighe an léirsgrios is gun caill iad Craobh an t-saoibhreis. 'S iad toirt seachad agus a bhith fialaidh dhà de na feartan agamsa; is buidhe dhàsan a sgeadaicheas e fhein le mo shubhailcean-sa. |
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A Chlann Na Luaithe! Insígí do lucht an airgid osnaíl na mbocht i lár na hoíche, ar eagla go seoltar iad siúd isteach i gcosán an bhasctha agus go mbainfear Crann an tSaibhris díobh. Is de mo chomharthaí bronnadh agus bheith flaithiúil: is méanar don té a mhaisíonn é féin le mo bhuanna. |
O Children of Dust!
Tell the rich of the midnight sighing of the poor, lest heedlessness lead them into the path of destruction, and deprive them of the Tree of Wealth. To give and to be generous are attributes of Mine; well is it with him that adorneth himself with My virtues.
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O Sàr-Bhrigh A' Bhoile-Inntinn! Cuir bhuat sannt agus sir sonas: oir bha na sanntaich a riamh air am bacadh agus na fir sona air an gràdhachadh agus am moladh. |
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A Chroí Na Hainmhéine! Leag thart gach uile shaint agus déan an tsástacht a lorg; óir baintear i gcónaí den duine santach agus tugtar grá agus moladh i gcónaí don duine sásta. |
O Quintessence of Passion! Put away all covetousness and seek contentment; for the covetous hath ever been deprived, and the contented hath ever been loved and praised.
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O Mhic Mo Bhanoglaich! Na bi buairte ann an ainnis no earbsach ann am beartas ainnis agus ainnis beartas. An dèidh sin chan eil ann a bhith bochd ann an nithean, ach Dia a mhàin, ach tiodhiac iongantach; na cuir a luach an neoshuim òir aig a cheann mu dheireadh ni e thu beairteach ann an Di@ agus, mar sin, tuigidh tu ciall nam briathran, "Gu fìrinneach is sibh na bochd agus na facail diadhaidh, is le Dia na h-uile" brisidh iad gu boilisgeach mar fìor mhaduinn air fàire cridhe an fhir-ghaoil agus fuiridh iad gu sàbhailte air rìghchathair a' bheartais. |
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A Mhic Mo Bhansearbhónta! Ní bí buartha faoi anás ná teann as saibhreas mar leanann an saibhreas an t-anás agus leanann an t-anás an saibhreas. Ach is tíolacadh éachtach é bheith bocht insan uile ní ach Dia. Ná taraisnigh é mar déanfaidh sé saibhir i nDia tú i ndeireadh na dála agus is uaidh sin a thuigfidh tú brí na cainte, Go deimhin is sibhse na boicht’, agus beidh na briaithra beannaithe: ‘Is é Dia an tUile-Shealbhach’, mar a bheadh an mhaidin fhíor ann, ag gealadh go glórmhar faoi bhun spéire chroí an fhir ghrá, agus suífidh siad go daingean ar ríchathaoir an ollmhaithis. |
O Son of My Handmaid! Be not troubled in poverty nor confident in riches, for poverty is followed by riches, and riches are followed by poverty. Yet to be poor in all save God is a wondrous gift, belittle not the value thereof, for in the end it will make thee rich in God, and thus thou shalt know the meaning of the utterance, "In truth ye are the poor," and the holy words, "God is the all-possessing," shall even as the true morn break forth gloriously resplendent upon the horizon of the lover's heart, and abide secure on the throne of wealth.
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O Clann A' Mhi-Shuim Agus A' Bhoil-Inntinn! Leig sibh do mo nàmhaid a thighinn a steach do m' thaigh agus thilg sibh a mach mo charaid oir thaisq sibh grbdh do neach eile ach mise'nar cridheachan. Èisd ri briathran a' charaid is tionndaidh chum a fhiairteanais. Tha caraidean saoghalta, a chum a mathas fhéin, mas fior gràdhach air càch a chéile ach ghràdhaich an fhìor charaid sibh agus tha e 'gar gràdhachadh air ar sgàth fhein: gu dearbh, dh'fhuiling e iomadh àmghair air losd ar treòireachadh. Na bi neo-dhìleas do charaid de'n t-seòrsa-sa; 'na àite dean cabhag thuige. Sin reul-latha facal an fhìrinn agus dìlseachd a dh'èirich os cionn fàire peann Thighearna nan uile-ainm. Fosgail do chiuasan ach an èisd thu ri facal Dhè, do chùmhnuidh
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A Chlann Na Faillí agus Na Hainmhéine! Cheadaigh sibh do mo namhaid teacht isteach i mo theach agus tá mo chara díbeartha agaibh mar chumhdaigh sibh grá ar neach eile seachas mé i bhur gcroí. éistígí le cainteanna an Charad agus tiontaígí i dtreo a pharthais. Tá an chuma ar chairde saolta, agus iad ar mhaithe leo féin, go bhfuil grá acu dá chéile ach b’ar mhaithe libh féin a bhí grá ag an gCara fíor daoibh riamh, mar atá i gcónaí. Go deimhin féin, d’fhulaing sé léanta do-áirimh le go ndeanfadh sé sibh a threóru. Ná bígí mídhílis dá leithéid de Chara, ní hea ach deifrígí chuige. Dá mhacasamhail atá grian bhriathar na fírinne agus na dílseachta atá i ndiaidh gealadh os ceann bun spéire pheann Thiarna an Uile Ainm. Osclaígí bhur súile le go n-éistfidh sibh le briathar Dé, an Cúntóir i mbaol, an Féin-mharthanach. |
O Children of Negligence and Passion! Ye have suffered My enemy to enter My house and have cast out My friend, for ye have enshrined the love of another than Me in your hearts. Give ear to the sayings of the Friend and turn towards His paradise. Worldly friends, seeking their own good, appear to love one the other, whereas the true Friend hath loved and doth love you for your own sakes; indeed He hath suffered for your guidance countless afflictions. Be not disloyal to such a Friend, nay rather hasten unto Him. Such is the daystar of the word of truth and faithfulness, that hath dawned above the horizon of the pen of the Lord of all names. Open your ears that ye may hearken unto the word of God, the Help in peril, the Self-existent.
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O Sibhse Tha Deanamh Uaill A Beairteas Shaoghalta! Biodh fhios agaibh gu fìrinneach gur e cnap-starraidh mòr a th'ann am beairteas eadar am fear tha sireadh agus a mhiann, eadar am fear-gaoil agus a leannan. Cha ruig na beairtich, ach beagan dhiubh a mhàin, an dòigh sam bith air cùirt a làthaireachd is chan intrinn iad baile an t-sòlais agus a' ghèiflidh. Is buidhe dhàsan mar sin a tha beairteach ach nach eil a bheairteas 'ga bhacadh bho'n rìoghachd shìorruidh, is nach 'eil a' call ri an linn an t-ùghdarras neobhàsmhor. Air an ainm as àirde. Soillsichidh lainnir duine beairteach de'n t-seòrsa seo luchd-còmhnuidh nan nèamhan eadhon mar a shoilisicheas a' ghrian luchd-àiteachaidh na taimhainn. |
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A Dhaoine a Dhéanann Mórtas as Saibhreas DUTHAIN! Bíodh fhios agaibh go deimhin gur constaic ollmhór é an saibhreas idir an cuardaitheoir agus a mhian, idir an fear grá agus a ionúin. Lucht an rachmais, ach amháin dream beag, ní shroichfidh siad cúirt a láthrach in aon chor ná ní rachaidh siad isteach i gcathair na sástachta agus na géilliúlachta. Is méanar, mar sin, don té, cé gur saibhir é, nach gcuirfidh a shaibhreas a bhac air dul isteach sa ríocht shíoraí, ná nach mbainfidh tiarnas dochaite de. Dar an Ainm Ró-Mhór! soilseoidh niamhracht a leithéid de dhuine saibhir lucht áitribh neimhe faoi mar a thugann an ghrian solas do chiníocha an domhain. |
O Ye That Pride Yourselves on Mortal Riches! Know ye in truth that wealth is a mighty barrier between the seeker and his desire, the lover and his beloved. The rich, but for a few, shall in no wise attain the court of His presence nor enter the city of content and resignation. Well is it then with him, who, being rich, is not hindered by his riches from the eternal kingdom, nor deprived by them of imperishable dominion. By the Most Great Name! The splendour of such a wealthy man shall illuminate the dwellers of heaven even as the sun enlightens the people of the earth!
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O Sibhse Tha Beairteach Air Thalaimh! Tha na bochdan 'nar measg an urra riumsa; dìonadh sibhse mo chùram agus na biodh ar n-aire mhàin air ar comhfhurtachd fhein. |
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A Dhaoine Saibhre an Domhain! Is é mo chúram na boicht i bhur measc; cosnaígí mo chúram, agus ná bígí leagtha ar bhur suaimhneas féin amháin. |
O Ye Rich Ones on Earth! The poor in your midst are My trust; guard ye My trust, and be not intent only on your own ease.
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O Mhic A' Bhoil-Inntinn! Glan thu fhèin bho truaillidheachd a' bheairtis agus ann an sith choimhlionta inntrinn rìoghachd na bochdainn; a chum is a fuaran an dealachaidh gun òl thu Iìon na beatha shìorruidh. |
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A Mhic na Dúile Mire! Glan tú féin ó thuailluí an tsaibhris agus téigh chun tosaigh faoi shíocháin iomlán isteach i ríocht an bhochtanais le go n-ólfaidh tú deoch d’fhíon na beatha síoraí as tobar an scartha. |
O Son of Passion! Cleanse thyself from the defilement of riches and in perfect peace advance into the realm of poverty; that from the well-spring of detachment thou mayest quaff the wine of immortal life.
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O A Mhic! Tha cuideachd nan aindiadhaidh a' meudachadh dòruinn am feadh is a tha cuideachd nam firean á glanadh a' mheirg bho'n chridhe. Esan tha sireadh comunn Dhè lorgadh e cuideachd A luchd-gaoil agus esan tha ag iarraidh èisdeachd ri focal Dhè, èisdeadh e ri briathran A dhaoine taghte. |
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A Mhic Liom! Méadaíonn comhluadar an mhíchráifigh ar an mbrón ach is amhlaidh a ghlanann cuideachta na bhfíréan an mheirg den chroí. An té ar mian leis cumann a dhéanamh le Dia tugadh sé cuideachta lucht a pháirte air féin agus éisteadh sé le briathra a mhuintire tofa. |
O My Son! The company of the ungodly increaseth sorrow, whilst fellowship with the righteous cleanseth the rust from off the heart. He that seeketh to commune with God, let him betake himself to the companionship of His loved ones; and he that desireth to hearken unto the word of God, let him give ear to the words of His chosen ones.
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O Mhic An Duslaich! Thoir an aire! Na coisich leis an aindiadhar is na sir a chuideachd oir tionndaidhidh cuideachd de'n t-seòrsa seo dealradh á chridhe gu teine ifrinneach. |
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A Mhic na Luaithe! Seachain! ná siúil leis na míchráifigh ná ná hiarr compánachas a dhéanamh leo, óir athraíonn an cineál sin compánachais loinnir an chroí go tine ifreanda. |
O Son of Dust! Beware! Walk not with the ungodly and seek not fellowship with him, for such companionship turneth the radiance of the heart into infernal fire.
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O Mhic Mo Bhanoglaich! Ma tha thu sireadh gras an spioraid naoimh glac cochomunn an fhìrein oir dh'òl esan cupan na beatha shìorruidh a làmhan a' ghille-cupain neobhàsmhoir eadhon mar a ghiuaiseas is a shoilisicheas an fhìor mhaduinn cridheachan nam marbh. |
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A Mhic mo Bhansearbhónta! An bhfuil tú ag iarraidh grásta an Spioraid Naoimh a bheith agat? Déan cuideachta leis an bhfíréan mar tá sé seo i ndiaidh ól as cupán na beatha síoraí ó lámha an Dáilimh neamhbhásmhair agus, mar a bheadh an mhaidin fhíor ann, tugann beocht do chroíthe na marbh agus soilsíonn orthu. |
O Son of My Handmaid! Wouldst thou seek the grace of the Holy Spirit, enter into fellowship with the righteous, for he hath drunk the cup of eternal life at the hands of the immortal Cup-bearer and even as the true morn doth quicken and illumine the hearts of the dead.
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O Luchd An Neo-Shuim! Na bi a' smaoineachadh gu bheil nithean dìomhair a' chridhe falaichte ach biodh fios cinnteach agad gu bheil iad snaidhte ann an litrichean soilleir agus so-fhaicsinneach 'na làthaireachd naomh. |
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A Dhaoine Gan Aird! Ná bígí á cheapadh gur i bhfolach a bhíonn rúin an chroí, ní hea, ach bíodh fhios agaibh go deimhin gur i litreacha soiléire atá siad greanta agus nochta go follas sa láthair naofa. |
O Heedless Ones! Think not the secrets of hearts are hidden, nay, know ye of a certainty that in clear characters they are engraved and are openly manifest in the holy Presence.
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O Chairdean! Gu deimhinnte tha mi 'g ràdh, chan eil càil a chleith sibh 'nar cridheachan nach 'eil fosgailte dhuinne agus cho soilleir ris an là; tha gu bheil e foluichte ri linn ar gràis agus fàbhair is chan ann ri linn bhur toiliteanais. |
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A Chairde! Go deimhin, a deirimse, cibé ní atá ceilte agaibh i bhur gcroí istigh, tá sé sin ar oscailt dúinne agus chomh soiléir leis an lá; ach is trín ár ngrásta agus ár bhfabhar go bhfuil sé folaithe agus ní de bhrí go raibh a leithéid tuillte agaibh. |
O Friends! Verily I say, whatsoever ye have concealed within your hearts is to Us open and manifest as the day; but that it is hidden is of Our grace and favour, and not of your deserving.
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