He who knows the ways of beasts and birds.
Who can distinquish them by song and cry,
Who knows the bright quicksilver life in streams,
The courses that the stars take through the sky,
May never have laid hands to books,
Yet he is sharing wisdom with infinity...
He who works with sensitive deft hands
At any woodcraft, will absorb the rain,
The sunlight and the starlight and the dew
That entered in the making of its grain;
He should grow tall and straight and clean and
good
Who daily breathes the essences of wood.
He who finds companionship in rocks,
And comfort in the touch of vine and leaf,
Who climbs a hill for joy, and shouts a song,
Who loves the feel of wind, will know no grief;
No lonliness that ever grows too great;
For he will never be desolate...
He shares, who is companioned long with these,
All ancient wisdoms and philosophies.
Old Welsh Prose
