Tá an ghrian ag taitneamh go geal ar maidin samhraidh, agus tá aer úr an Atlantaigh ag líonadh na scamhóga.

The sun is shining brightly on a summer morning, and the fresh Atlantic air is filling their lungs.

Cian, Orla, agus Saoirse ag siúl suas na céimeanna ársa ar an Oileán Mhichil.

Cian, Orla, and Saoirse are walking up the ancient steps on Oileán Mhichil.

Tá dainséar sa radharc, ach tá áilleacht ann freisin.

There's danger in sight, but there's beauty too.

Tá na haillte ann cosúil le mil spéisiúil a mheallann iad ar aghaidh.

The cliffs stand like a remarkable honey that draws them onward.

Bhí Cian i gceannas mar is gnáth.

Cian was in charge as usual.

Is fear é a mbíonn plean aige i gcónaí, a cheapann go domhain ar gach céim.

He is a man who always has a plan, who thinks deeply about every step.

Is álainn an lá é, gan scamall sa spéir.

It is a beautiful day, without a cloud in the sky.

Bhí Orla ag rith suas na céimeanna, ag leanúint fuaim na n-éan mara a bhí ag screadaíl sa spéir.

Orla was running up the steps, following the sound of the sea birds screeching in the sky.

"Saoirse, tar anseo!

"Saoirse, come here!

Féach," a scairt Orla, ag díriú ar na clocha a bhí timpeall orthu.

Look," Orla shouted, pointing to the rocks around them.

Ach bhí Saoirse tuirseach, agus ní raibh sí in ann cíor mhaithé bheith ag rith ar nós Orla.

But Saoirse was tired, and she couldn't run as spryly as Orla.

Go tobann, bhraith Saoirse lag.

Suddenly, Saoirse felt weak.

Chonaic Cian í ag dul bán, agus d'fhéach sé isteach is amach ar fud an oileáin, a chuid smaointe ag rith mar ghaoth.

Cian saw her turning pale and looked around the island, his thoughts racing like the wind.

Bhí a fhios aige nach raibh mórán ama acu.

He knew they didn't have much time.

Bhí an t-oileán iargúlta, as lámhach na sibhialtachta.

The island was remote, out of reach of civilization.

Bhí uisce uathu.

They needed water.

"Caithfimid cabhair a fháil," arsa Cian go daingean, ag glacadh a mála agus ag rith chuig Saoirse.

"We need to get help," Cian said firmly, taking his bag and running towards Saoirse.

Chuir sé a lámh ar a chroí agus d’fhan Orla leis, a súile ag iniúchadh gach stuaille cloiche.

He put his hand on her heart and Orla stayed with him, her eyes scanning every rocky nook.

Rith Orla ar aghaidh, a chroí ag dul buille leis an chroitheadh an excitement.

Orla ran ahead, her heart pounding with the thrill of the excitement.

Bhí a fhios aici go raibh gá leis an guthán, le leigheas.

She knew they needed the phone, the remedy.

Bhain sí na cosáin chaol amach, agus sa deireadh, chonaic sí an tras féin, an seana-chros cloiche a sheas ar an gcró éigin.

She reached the narrow paths, and finally, she saw the cross itself, the old stone cross standing on some crest.

Ann, bhí treoraí turasanna.

There was a tour guide there.

Buíochas le Dia, bhí raidió aige agus cairtí leighis.

Thank God, he had a radio and medical supplies.

Tháinig Cian le Saoirse ar a ghualainn.

Cian came with Saoirse on his shoulder.

D'úsáid siad an t-uisce agus an soláthar a chuir an treoraí ar fáil.

They used the water and the provisions the guide provided.

Faoi dheireadh, tháinig Saoirse chuige féin, a súile ag oscailt go mall.

Eventually, Saoirse came to, her eyes slowly opening.

Maidir le Cian, thuig sé an tábhacht a bhaineann le bheith ag éisteacht le hintuigtheacht is le spontaneity an saoil.

For Cian, he understood the importance of listening to the intuition and spontaneity of life.

Ní hé i gcónaí pleanáil a shábhálann tú, ach féith ealaíonta na beatha.

Planning doesn't always save you, but the artistic sense of living does.

Tá fíor-léargas ag Orla ar a dtábhachtaí é a bheith réidh chomh maith leis an tsáirsí.

Orla truly realized how important it is to be prepared as well as spontaneous.

Thug an taithí seo léargas ùr dóibh uilig, agus bhí buíochas le Dia nach raibh a drocheriachtaí níos measa.

This experience gave them all a new perspective, and they were grateful to God that their difficulties weren't worse.

Ag féachaint thar bharr na n-oileánacha draíochta sin, d'fhág siad Skellig Mhichil, lán le scéalta agus síocháin ón gcinn álainn seo i bhfad ar shiúl ón gcathair.

Looking over the tops of those magical islands, they left Skellig Mhichil, full of stories and peace from this beautiful corner far away from the city.