|Brendan O Corraidhe|
Down in Brwyn Gwlad town lives a jolly good fellow
whos figure is really a comical sight, f
or his forhead is bald and his eyes will amaze you,
and his gold-colored codpiece is really quite bright.
He wears baggy pants, and a ragged old tunic
His shoes give his tootsies a room with a view.
And he acts very silly, and does antler dances
And answeres when summoned, by the name "Master Moo" (he and his wife moo at each other)
His real name is Iolo, Don Iolo Fitzowen
His white sash and Laurel are both well desererved,
For he'll build you a crossbow like those in museums
Or thrash you at swashbuckling without reserve.
He's a shaper of wood, and of bone and of leather,
A shaper of souls with a word to the wise.
He has carved standing stones to remember the fallen,
and he'll sing you a song to bring tears to your eyes.
Of the Great Selke's (sp) bride
and a cruel lass name Jenny,
Karelia's lover and Merddyn's gay flute.
And the old standing stones
and a host of Welsh heros
Spring once more to life when he picks up his lute.
He's a craftsman, composer, a foole and a fighter,
A good friend to many, He'll come when you call.
And he'll dance in the garden, and sing in the moonlight
Like a nightingale piping in a green forest hall.
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