Arany János - Győrei Zsolt (szerk.): The trill of the nightingale (Budapest, 2019)

III - „His voice, once fine and heady, still a grumble deep” - The Bards of Wales (Bernard Adams)

'Tis said five hundred went to die,

Went singing to their doom;

None could bring themselves to sing To English Edward's tune.

What is that sound? In London's streets Who is it sings so late?

The Lord Mayor's life is forfeit if The king is kept awake.

Now silence deep: not one fly's wing Within or without is stirred.

The king lies waking - risks his head Who utters but a word!

'Let there be music! Fife and drum,

And let the trumpet bray!

The curses of that feast in Wales Ring in my ears this day.'

But o'er the sound of fife and drum And brazen trumpet's clang Five hundred voices raise the song That the martyrs sang.