The knights of the round table they rode out
All clad in armor bright they fight for right
Throughout the land the peasants cheer for jousts
For such a grand land they forever fight
The druids powerful they were of yore
They speak old secrets to ears made of stone
Then Merlin who made Arthur pure of core
The man as ancient as the age-ed bones
In ancient ways so many men have strived
Young ones new still long roads lie for their kin
The new so lost to olden tales arrive
Some port in peace while warriors seek our skins
Foreer' this land will face the perils grave
Less Arthur once and only king so brave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem