Man of Harlech
(Harlech was een hoofdkwartier tijdens de opstand van Owain Glyndwr)
Fierce the beacon light is flaming,
With its tongues of fire proclaiming,
Chieftains, sundered to your shaming,
Strongly now Unite!
At the call all Arfon rallies,
War cries rend her hills and valleys,
Troops on troop, with headlong sallies,
Hurtle to the fight.
Chiefs lie dead and wounded,
Yet where first’ twas grounded,
Freedom’s flag still holds the crag-
Her trumpet still is sounded.
While the pale lips of the dying
Echo to our shout defying
‘’ Harlech for the right!’’

Shall the Saxon army shake you?
Smite, pursue and overtake you?
Men of Harlech, god shall make you
Victors, blow for blow!
As the rivers of Eryi
Sweep the vale with flooded fury,
Gwalia from her mountain eyrie
Thunders on the foe!
Now, avenging Briton,
Smite as he has smitten!
Let you rage on history’s page
In Saxon blood be written!
His lance is long, but yours is longer,
Strong his sword, but yours is stronger!
One stroke more! And then you wronger
At your feet lies low!

 

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