God be with me against all trouble, noble Trinity which is one, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
The bright, holy King of the sun, who is more beautiful than anything to which we have a right, is a wondrous refuge for me against the host of black demons.
May every hurtless blessing, every pure prayer, every ladder which reaches Heaven, be of help to me.
Every good saint who suffered on the face of the earth below, every pious disciple who believed in Christ,
Everyone meek, everyone quiet, everyone sincere, everyone unsullied, every confessor, every soldier who exists beneath the sun,
Every glorious pilgrim, every rich person of goodly power, every destitute person, every saint who has abandoned the land,
Every tongue without fail upon which grace has been bestowed, every heart throughout the world which never covenants treachery,
Every modest righteous one beneath the plane of bright Heaven, from the west where the sun sets, eastwards to Mount Sion:
From here may they protect me against the fog-surrounded demons, these companions of the King's Son from the lands of the living.
May my King guard me; may He aid me always; may I be at every need beneath the protection of God's hand.
Anonymous 9th century Irish monastic poem
رد مع اقتباس
