CELT:

Give me the bagpipes, the Celtic banduria, the cembalo & sweet harp,

Give me the jig, the ceilidh, the reels to dance to ceol with accents sharp,

Give me the mantles, the pointed black hats, kilts & tartans in every hue,

Give me the Celtic blood that runs in the veins of my sons, in me & in you.

Give me haggis, crempog, buttery gold daffodils & the rolling lilac heather,

Give me low lying mists, green valley’s & the breath of the dragon´s weather,

Give me bee kissed shamrocks & the great oaks that grow in Druid´s groves,

Give me ivy embraced tombstones, grey & humid, where bats fly in droves.

Give me the triskele, the Celtic cross, the snaking armband & bronzed torque,

Give me the sacred book of shadows, the cauldron & the steeple living stork,

Give me the Ovate, the Druid, the word-wending magic of the story-telling Bard,

Give me the mistletoe, herbs & the runes carved from the earth´s woody shard.

Give me the rich rituals, the chanting circles, the groves & the deep magical wells,

Give me the sweetest poetry of Taliesin, the wise triads & the ancient book of Kells,

Give me the old Celtic knowledge of how to live life & that death is not the final end,

Give me forest´s paths, so that I may sing out loud & I may wander, roam & wend.

Give me the Celt with his ancient wisdom, universal love & magical healing herbs,

Give me his knowledge of how to converse with nature & with every beast & bird,

Give me the Celt´s secrets of our mother moon, father sun & of all the stars & seas,

Give me the Celts who know how to talk to the howling winds & the ancient trees.

Give me the Celt, he who has the rusty red blood, the colour of our earth,

Give me the Celt, he who walks by the side of death from the day of his birth,

Give me the Celt with the upright pride & the sunny smile of the shining sun,

For I´m that Celt of my forefathers & I am so very proud that I am truly one.