“Willingly, my lord, but ‘twill be
Neither fair nor bright.
Ever since the child went wandering,
Wandering far away,
Young and headstrong, has the manor
Fallen to decay.”
Scarcely had she finished speaking,
When a damsel fair,
When a damsel fair came slowly
Down the broken stair.
And she sadly gazed upon him,
Through her tears she gazed:
“Wherefore, maiden, art thou weeping?”
Lez-Breiz asked, amazed.
“Why, my lord knight, I am weeping
Freely will I say:
Of your age I have a brother.
Long since gone away.
Forth he went to be a warrior,
Ten long years ago;