Llyr of the midmost lands, of farm and forest,
heath and shore, marsh and fen, wherever your folk
made their home, there you abide, there you keep watch
over tribe and kin, there we see your strength, O god,
there we know your goodness and your constancy.
So little we hold from days of old, so much
has been buried, so much become dust, blown away;
Llyr of the lost legends, Llyr who stands in shadow,
might of the great brine, mate of the far-flung lands,
Llyr of the sorrows, of family and fate fallen
to ruin, I call to you, I offer you my praise.
O noble one, Llyr of land and sea, I honor you.