Blessed is the birch in the valley of Gwy <br />Whose branches will fall off one by one, two by two <br />It will remain when there will be a battle in Ardudwy <br />And the lowing together of the cattle about the ford of Mochnwy <br />And spears and shouting at Dyganwy <br />And Edwin bearing sway in Mona <br />And youths pale and light <br />In ruddy clothes commanding them. <br /> <br />Blessed is the birch in Pumlumon <br />Which will see when the front of the stage shall be exalted <br />and which will see Franks clad in mail <br />About the hearth food for whelps <br />And monks frequently riding on steeds. <br /> <br />Blessed is the birch in the heights of Dinwythy <br />Which will know when there shall be a battle in Ardudwy <br />And spears uplifted around Edrywy <br />And a bridge in the Taw, and another on the Tawy <br />And another, on account of a misfortun, on the banks of the Gwy <br />And the artificer that will make it, let his name by Garwy; <br />and the principle of Mona have dominion over it. <br />Women will be under the Gynt, and men in affliction <br />Happier than I is he who will welcome <br />The time of Cadwaladyr: a song he may sing!<br /><br />Anonymous Olde English<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-birch-trees/
