Welsh wizards, Math and Gwydyon
conspired together, met in a wood,
to form a woman out of flowers,
petals of oak, broom, meadowsweet,
so she woke, more fair than spring
song of birds when leaves
drip and shine with showers.
Later, Gwydyon regretted the act,
for as the wife of Lleu,
she did deeds not fair but foul,
renamed her Blodeuwedd,
and changed her into an owl.
Now she hoots all through
the black dark night,
among the trees and ruined towers,
and longs to be a woman fair again,
made of woodland flowers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem