Yr Awen a Ganaf, Or Dwfn a Dygaf.
(the Awen I sing, from the Deep I bring it.)
where the river flows I may never know
but i remember the spring in the mountains
where it falls from great heights
and runs clear and bright
tumbling over the glistening rocks
to wend its way down
replenishing wells
filling the thirsty cup
inspiration of dreams
it’s the source of all life
my mind drifts away on its ripples
i follow its flow
down from the source
to its verdant and greenest pastures
without it there’s drought
the dryness of earth comes to nothing
