Not of father nor of mother Was my blood, was my body. I was spellbound by Gwydion, Prime enchanter of the Britons, When he formed me from nine blossoms, Nine buds of various kind; From primrose of the mountain, Broom, meadow-sweet and cockle, Together intertwined, From the bean in its shade bearing A white spectral army Of earth, of earthly kind, From blossoms of the nettle, Oak, thorn and bashful chestnut - Nine powers of nine flowers, Nine powers in me combined, Nine buds of plant and tree. Long and white are my fingers As the ninth wave of the sea.
