- published: 21 Jul 2010
- views: 162319
Lughnasadh (pronounced LOO-nə-sə; Irish: Lúnasa; Scottish Gaelic: Lùnastal; Manx: Luanistyn) is a traditional Gaelic holiday celebrated on 1 August in the northern hemisphere and 1 February in the southern. It originated as a harvest festival, corresponding to the Welsh Calan Awst and the English Lammas.
In Old Irish (or Old Gaelic), the name was usually spelt Lugnasad (pronounced [luɣnəsəð]). Later spellings include Luġnasaḋ, Lughnasadh and Lughnasa.
In Modern Irish (Gaeilge), the spelling is Lúnasa, which is also the name for the month of August. The genetive case is also Lúnasa as in Mí Lúnasa (Month of August) and Lá Lúnasa (Day of Lúnasa). The word násadh means a feast, fair, assembly, or celebration, but is unstressed when used as a suffix on Lughnasadh.
In Modern Scottish Gaelic (Gàidhlig), the festival and the month are both called Lùnastal.
In Manx (Gaelg), the festival and the month are both called Luanistyn. The day itself may be called either Laa Luanistyn or Laa Luanys.
In Welsh (Cymraeg), the day is known as Calan Awst, originally a Latin term, the Kalends of August in English.
Feel me sleep beneath your feet
While the year is waning,
And all about you the bare fingers plead
And reach towards the sky,
A crown of thorns about my head,
When the dark is rising,
And from the shadows walks a God, a seed,
A hope for brand new life.
Can you hear the Spirits of the Earth can you?
Can you hear the Spirits of the Earth can you?
Can you hear the Spirits of the Earth?
Can you hear them call, can you hear them sing?
Lughnasadh! Is the life and the death of the Corn King,
Life and rebirth of the Corn King!
Lughnasadh! Is the life and the death of the Corn King,
Life and rebirth of the Corn King!
I turn my green face to the Sun,
As the year is waxing,
And all about animals call my name
In forest and in sky.
My horns of velvet reflect the Moon,
Silver wheel of my Lady,
She comes towards me as the May reveals
Her White and virgin skin.
I turn my gold face to the Sun
As the year is waning,
The time has come now for my life to end
As metal rubs on stone,
She comes towards me across the fields,
Chariot's wheels a-blazing,
Her hair on fire, cut me crush me, bake me,