Brambles war arises this year
In a primeval moon of May,
The fern is dressed
Make up done,
An empire of moss around.
Infamous tribes burned our cattle
We fled south down to build our castle
Riding the sea,
Singing an old shanty
Straight up to Armorika !
And I fled to bitter lands of Llydaw
War douaroù c'hwerv.
And I fled to bitter lands of sorrow
Douaroù c'hwerv.
Over lands, fields and barley
Ferry Banks, South Valley
My territories, banks and lands
My rivers, oaks and sand.
We will live on, safe and strong,
We're not expecting world to turn wrong
We are not citizens of money kingdom
Come to live and ride with freedom.
And I fled to bitter lands of Llydaw
War douaroù c'hwerv.
And I fled to bitter lands of sorrow
Douaroù c'hwerv.