Oh goddess of the hearth! Great goddess of the seas!
On this blessed night I come in prayer to thee.
Goddess of the celts and Mistress of the healing arts.
Goddess of the Fire and Mother of my ancient race,
Come, touch my heart.
The Winter bites so cold and hard, no comfort in the distant sun,
The summer seems so far away, it's joyous race still yet to run,
But Spring draws near and winters veil will soon be rent,
So with the promise of your Blessed day we are content.
Patroness of Poetry, Protector of these ancient lands,
I come to you this night with open hands.
Show me your mysteries, teach me to see,
Imbue my words with your ancient powers,
so Healing flows through me.
I wander lost, please be my guide,
An orphan I - walk by my side.
As Mother to my Ancient clan,
I ask for your protection,
as I strive to be all that I can.
May the Race of your children never harm me,
May the race of your children be my friends,
May the Tuath de Danaan stand beside me
until the Fates decree my end.
So mote it be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
May the Race of your children never harm me, May the race of your children be my friends, May the Tuath de Danaan stand beside me until the Fates decree my........................................................nice poem