“O England's hate is my love unsleeping, Gwynedd my land,
Golden on every hand to the myriad reaping.
For her bounty of mead I love her, winter content,
Where turbulent wastes of the sea but touch and are spent;
I love her people, quiet peace, rich store of her treasure
Changed at her prince's pleasure to splendid war.”

—  Hywel ab Owain Gwynedd

Caraf trachas Lloegyr, lleudir goglet hediw,
ac yn amgant y Lliw lliwas callet.
Caraf am rotes rybuched met,
myn y dyhaet my meith gwyrysset.
Carafy theilu ae thew anhet yndi
ac wrth uot y ri rwyfaw dyhet.
"Gorhoffedd" (The Boast), line 3; translation from Robert Gurney Bardic Heritage (London: Chatto & Windus, 1969) p. 39.

Original

Caraf trachas Lloegyr, lleudir goglet hediw,<br/>ac yn amgant y Lliw lliwas callet.<br/>Caraf am rotes rybuched met,<br/>myn y dyhaet my meith gwyrysset.<br/>Carafy theilu ae thew anhet yndi<br/>ac wrth uot y ri rwyfaw dyhet.

Adopted from Wikiquote. Last update June 3, 2021. History

Help us to complete the source, original and additional information

Do you have more details about the quote "O England's hate is my love unsleeping, Gwynedd my land, Golden on every hand to the myriad reaping. For her bounty o…" by Hywel ab Owain Gwynedd?
Hywel ab Owain Gwynedd photo

Related quotes

Dorothea Mackellar photo

“I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror –
The wide brown land for me!”

Dorothea Mackellar (1885–1968) Poet

Source: The Poems of Dorothea Mackellar

Virginia Woolf photo

“I am amused at my relations with her: left so ardent in January – and now what? Also I like her presence and her beauty. Am I in love with her? But what is love? Her being 'in love' with me, excites and flatters; and interests. What is this 'love?”

Virginia Woolf (1882–1941) English writer

Thursday 20 May 1926
A Moment's Liberty (1990)

Markus Zusak photo

“She places her hands around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder. I can smell the sex on her, and my hope is that she can smell the love on me.”

Markus Zusak (1975) Australian author

Source: I Am the Messenger

Joyce Kilmer photo

“Loving her, Monsignore,
I love all her attributes;
But I believe
That even if I did not love her
I would love the blueness of her eyes,
And her blue garment, made in the manner of the Japanese.”

Joyce Kilmer (1886–1918) American poet, editor, literary critic, soldier

Main Street and Other Poems (1917), A Blue Valentine

“Mom loved my brother more. Not that she didn't love me - I felt the wash of her love every day, pouring over me, but it was a different kind, siphoned from a different, and tamer, body of water. I was her darling daughter; Joseph was her it.”

Aimee Bender (1969) Novelist, short story writer

Source: The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake

Sherman Alexie photo

“She was in pain and I loved her, sort of loved her, I guess, so I kind of had to love her pain, too.”

Sherman Alexie book The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

Source: The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

Robert Burns photo

“But to see her was to love her,
Love but her, and love forever.”

Robert Burns (1759–1796) Scottish poet and lyricist

Bonny Lesley.
Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919)
Variant: To see her is to love her,
And love but her forever;
For Nature made her what she is,
And never made anither!

Joaquin Miller photo

“O you had loved her sitting there,
Half hidden in her loosen'd hair:
Why, you had loved her for her eyes,
Their large and melancholy look
Of tenderness, and well mistook
Their love for light of Paradise.”

Joaquin Miller (1837–1913) American judge

IV, p. 27.
The Ship in the Desert (1875)

Henri Barbusse photo

“I take her hand, as I did before. I speak to her, rather timidly and at random: "Carnal love isn't the whole of love."”

Henri Barbusse (1873–1935) French novelist

"It's love!" Marie answers.
Light (1919), Ch. XXIII - Face To Face

“I've told her a fairy tale that she doesn't remember. I have written hundreds of poems that could not touch her feelings. To her I was not a poet. To her I was not a good writer. I was not the right person for her to love.”

Titon Rahmawan

Related topics