I call to you, O Dagda, mighty one, kindly one,
generous one, great god of many talents,
father of children good-hearted and strong,
master of treasures beyond telling, your cauldron
ever full, your trees ever heavy with sweet fruit.
Upon your oaken harp you play to bring the land
to new-grown life or set it to a winter’s sleep;
in hand you wield the hefty club with which you take
or give back lives. O Dagda, god of many names,
granter of many gifts, holder of knowledge
and bearer of wisdom, worker of wonders,
you shield us in safety, you bless us with bounty.

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