What you English don’t understand
Is that the rain in Wales is blessed!
I’ve been to every far-off land,
And, let me tell you, ours is best!
The drops that fall on Cymru’s hills
Are composed of sacred fluids!
The moisture that on Welshmen spills
Was worshiped by ancient druids!
Descends the drizzle to our fields,
And touched by magic is our earth!
It is the cause of fruitful yields:
Of pineapples we have no dearth!
It wets Bryn Terfel’s tuneful throat!
It gives the glory to his voice!
And has inspired such bards of note
As Dylan Thomas, and Max Boyce!
Oh what gloom were Gwalia dry!
Take heed, my fathers, I implore!
Let ample clouds above us fly
And rain on Wales for ever more!
mimic hootings 