Silver moonlight dances from the mists of Tegid's shore
A lady looks upon her son like many times before
And she touches his face, fingers wet with the tears falling
Her daughter stands beside her, the fairest in the land
How her son became so cursed she cannot understand
But this mother's love is as strong as her heart is beating
And she calls to the earth, and the earth hears her calling
High up in the mountains Dinas Affaraon stands tall
All magic and all mysteries are held within these walls
So she walks to the door; as she does, the door it opens
Teach to me the mystery of the cauldron's brew
Let utter darkness give way to light and be reborn anew
Then the Awen will shine from the brow of the eagle of the sea
And all will know his name, from this land to the people of the sídhe
The lady set the cauldron's fire, tended by the hand
Of Gwion Bach the innocent and Morda the blind man
Who reached out his hand; place more wood, keep the cauldron boiling
Then Morda he fell asleep, alas he didn't see
Wood upon wood was added, the inferno was the key
To unlock the door of the Awen's greatest mystery
Three drops, burning skin, and it's Gwion who gained the power to see
The cauldron cracks, the poison creeps slowly across the land
To kill the horses of Garanhir at the lakeshore where they stand
Drinking and not knowing their fate
As a hare runs fast across the land
Ceridwen, Ceridwen, lady of the cauldron, come see what they have done
Stolen your cauldron's power and betrayed your only son
Your eyes wide, lips curl, anger on your face
Change your shape now, lady; be the hound, begin the chase
I shall be a running hare, with sorrow and with mickle care
(Then I shall be a greyhound bitch and tear you from your skin)
Then I shall be a flying wren: the king of birds, the king of men
(So I shall be a falcon grey and tear you from your skin)
Then I shall be a salmon sleek, darting through a shallow creek
(So I shall be an otter bitch and wrest you from your skin)
I shall be a grain beneath the sun and you will never know which one
(Then I shall be a great black hen and take you deep within)
Now you may be forgiven to think my tale is over and done
But nine moons later she gave birth to a son
That she wanted to kill, but she placed in a coracle on the sea
Garanhir's salmon weir; a catch was guaranteed
But on this day a baby boy cried out to be freed
A radiant brow shining bright for all to plainly see
Taliesin is your name, the greatest bard that this land will ever see