York Minster, a king before a bowing throng.
On Ilkla Moor Baht 'at, years later is still sung on.
Rivers Ouse and Swale, silver hung around your neck.
Knowing times bad and joyful, knowing both will come to pass.
Sheffield, Steel City, home of Owl and Blade.
Humble folk, from God’s own land.
In awe we stare at thy beauty.
Recalling days of your glories and those glories still to come.
Endearingly we think of you, our home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem