I offer my praise to Afallach; I call to you,
O son of the father, father of the mother,
lord of the orchard and the apple red and sweet,
lord of the fortunate isle that men call Avalon.
Yours is the far-famed tor, the hill once bound by the sea;
yours are the tales of the bright new king, his company
dashing and doomed; Afallach, yours is the legend
and the legacy, the mystery and the might.
You are the last best friend of man, you are our guide
and guardian upon our final flight; Afallach
of the fruited tree, god of the endless harvest
and the life lived after life, I honor you.