I sing to the Fair ones

I sing praise to the Fair folk,

To the Tylwyth Teg,

To the infinite ones.

I sing praise to the One

Who governs the mists,

The hidden one.

I sing praise to the Wise ones,

To the ancient and bright,

To the gracious.

I sing praise to the King of old,

Clad in silver and white,

The Shining one.

I sing praise to the ones

Who gave me the gifts

Of the word and the song.

Long is the day on earth,

Long is the night of the soul

Without the blessed lights.

I sing praise to the Glorious,

I sing to the Immortal,

Night and day.

I sing to the oak,

I sing to the willow,

And the apple tree.

I sing to the Hawthorn,

I sing to the Ivy,

And the heather.

To the Rowan I sing,

And the vine,

And the elder,

To the Blackthorn,

And alder,

And the hazel wise.

I sing praise to the woods

That give life and wisdom

To the druids and bards alike.

I sing praise to the Fair folk,

I sing to the ones

Who were here before.

I have been alive,

I have been dead,

And here I am –

To sing praise to the Fair folk,

To sing to their King,

For my song is his.