My eyes fell gently upon this verdant, fertile place
Mountain islands floating in morning mist
Giant trees home for cuckoos and creepers and such
Castles, once proud battlements, now ruins pon hillocks
In this magical green haven, this historical land.
A place where Buzzards and Red Kites soar freely and live to hunt
Sheep graze salt marshes till ready and plump
Language is treasured, arts, crafts and tales passed down to the young
There is Bara Brith and Lava Bread but only one is baked
Where blue slate is polished and they mine their own gold.
Tradition and countryside live on as passed from hand to hand,
Protection of their heritage the charge of every man
Despite the rain, it is wild beauty, nature is abundant,
For this country so vibrant, true and keen is Wales
And my friend, I confess, I have learned to love it so.
Topic(s) of this poem: nature
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.