The Chair of the Sovereign
Gwydion
GENRE Possessing the ultimate power
Vultures surrounding waiting to devour
The darkest, agonizing hour
Enclosed in his reign, high from his tower
The voice of the wind of an hour
Granted him dominion and power
High is, the virtue of the course
High will be the gaiety of the old
High is, the horn of the travelling
High the crow in the evening
High is, truth when it shines
Higher when it speaks
High is, my violent intent
Higher if it comes against reason
The sovereign chair
Supreme ruler
In earth and heaven
In glade and bower
High is, the elder wisdom
High was the path to travel
High is, the briskly-moving stream
Higher, around the violent borders
High is the swing of the sword
High when it comes from the king
High is the sovereign chair
High, the wise one, that keeps it
With his staff and his wisdom
With his swift irruptions
With his sovereign prince
With his scriptural number
With his red purple
With his assault over the vale
With his appropriate chair
Amongst the retinue over the wall
Let him be a conductor of fleets
The billow cover over the shingle
Let the land become ocean
So that it leaves not the cliffs
Let the old, renewed border fall!
So that we can raise new blood
Let it be fragile in like manner
Fickle and dissolving
Vultures surrounding waiting to devour
The darkest, agonizing hour
Enclosed in his reign, high from his tower
The voice of the wind of an hour
Granted him dominion and power
High is, the virtue of the course
High will be the gaiety of the old
High is, the horn of the travelling
High the crow in the evening
High is, truth when it shines
Higher when it speaks
High is, my violent intent
Higher if it comes against reason
The sovereign chair
Supreme ruler
In earth and heaven
In glade and bower
High is, the elder wisdom
High was the path to travel
High is, the briskly-moving stream
Higher, around the violent borders
High is the swing of the sword
High when it comes from the king
High is the sovereign chair
High, the wise one, that keeps it
With his staff and his wisdom
With his swift irruptions
With his sovereign prince
With his scriptural number
With his red purple
With his assault over the vale
With his appropriate chair
Amongst the retinue over the wall
Let him be a conductor of fleets
The billow cover over the shingle
Let the land become ocean
So that it leaves not the cliffs
Let the old, renewed border fall!
So that we can raise new blood
Let it be fragile in like manner
Fickle and dissolving
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