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)

Out! To the stake! The king's command. That was exceeding hard.

A softer song is what we need.

Arose a youthful bard.

'O, softly blows the evening breeze O'er Milford, off the sea.

In it moan the grief of widows,

Maidens' misery.

Bear ye no children to be slaves,

Ye mothers, do not nurse ...'

Him to the stake the king dismissed As brusquely as the first.

But recklessly, unbidden too,

A third rose in his stead.

The theme itself sang from the harp And this is what it said:

'Brave men have perished in the fight - Mark thou my words, O King - No bard of Wales will praise thy name, None stoop to such a thing.

The harp preserves their memory - Mark thou my words, O King - A curse on thy head is every song The bards of Wales shall sing.'

We shall see! The king commands,

And dreadful is his word,

That any bard who will not sing His praise shall not be spared.

His henchmen left to course the land At the king's behest.

And so in high Montgomery Took place the famous feast.

Edward the king, the English king, Homeward spurred his grey.

All round the pyres lit up the sky Of those that said him nay.

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