I call to Aengus, fair-faced son of the Dagda,
son of deep-hearted Boann who knows the flow
of feeling, Aengus the young, Aengus the clever,
full-hearted god, child of love. Well you know the might
of words, you who slew the bard Abhean for his lies,
you who grant the sweetest speech to lovers and poets.
Well you know the worth of love, O seeker
of the swan maid; well you know the need of battle,
O bearer of Great Fury; Aengus Og were you called,
for the bloom of youth is ever upon you.
Dreamer of dreams, holder of hearts, mender of bones
and bodies, Aengus, I honor your complexity.

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