Chorus: O i comnaíde tuigithir bláth bith!
(Old Irish: ‘O, always [lit. in residence] flowers covering the world’ inspired by Fionn Mac Cumhaill’s Cétemain, caín cucht)
O Creiddylad lover of Fairy,
What loneliness befalls this host
as we make our rites to end,
And you are no stranger to loneliness
As you are One who connects wild with wild,
heart with heart, and root with root.
O i comnaíde tuigithir bláth bith!
What it is then to bring these final words
to your throne of tree and stone,
in the circle of wing and tendon,
axe and mushroom, hoof and bone,
vetch and antler, seed and builb.
Is to yield to a celebration ever-turning.
O i comnaíde tuigithir bláth bith!
Bring soon then your doomsday
to our now today, hen catching corn,
streching your canopy above us,
worlding ancestors and generations to come;
activating wild commons; opening colliquy;
gathering, building, weaving, we magic Your Day always,,,
O i comnaíde tuigithir bláth bith!
They are in Winter: Snowdrops from tombs;
purple from forests; Daffodils ye Fair Folks’ horn;
yellow from forest floor; Primrose from ancients.
In Spring: Wood anenome streching from anthers;
Hedgerows of Dog Violets; Wild Garlic carpetting one
Earth; yellow hoods of Annwn’s carpet plant Anrhuna.
O i comnaíde tuigithir bláth bith!
They are in Summer: The Bluebell floors;
Sovereign Gentimtella of constancy;
Rosebush of beckoning; Fairy-Bells dancing.
In Fall: Climatis; Woodbine: Yon lover Aimee Vibert.
Chrysanthemums; And Aconite and wild affinity again,
Your thorns singing from the ecstatic graves in late Winter.
O i comnaíde tuigithir bláth bith!
~ Sib. Temperance
The Monastery of Annwn 