The salmon lying in the depths of Llyn Llifon <br />Secretly as a thought in a dark mind, <br />Is not so old as the owl of Cwm Cowlyd <br />Who tells her sorrow nightly on the wind. <br /> <br />The ousel singing in the woods of Cilgwri, <br />Tirelessly as a stream over the mossed stones, <br />Is not so old as the toad of Cors Fochno <br />Who feels the cold skin sagging round his bones. <br /> <br />The toad and the ousel and the stag of Rhedynfre, <br />That has cropped each leaf from the tree of life, <br />Are not so old as the owl of Cwm Cowlyd, <br />That the proud eagle would have to wife.<br /><br />Ronald Stuart Thomas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-ancients-of-the-world/
