Strong-willed Arianhrod, fair-faced sister of Gwydion,
daughter of the river-flow, mother of thrice-cursed Lleu
who met your challenges with courage and craft,
a proven man of worth and wisdom. Arianhrod,
your castle stands among green fields, hewn from the stone
below; your castle stands among the stars,
bright-shining in the cold night sky. I call to you,
O bearer of the silvery wheel, cloaked in the darkness,
wrapped in the unknown; I call to you, O goddess
who knows the price of expectation, who knows
the dignity of the self, who knows the gravity
of the truth; I call to you with all reverence.