O hush thee my baby, thy sire was a knight
Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright
Thy woods and the glews, from the towers which we see They all are belonging, dear baby to thee
O, fear not thy bugle, though loudly it blows It calls but the warder that guard thy repose
Their bows would be beneded, their blades would be red,
Ere the step of a foe man drew near to thy bed
O, hush thee, my baby, the time will soon come
When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum
Them hush thee, my darling, take the rest while you may
For strife comes with manhood and waking with day
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem