Translated from the Welsh "Glaw" of Huw Meieion Edwards. Now every hour’s an eternity as our crosses dry in ink. The silent, dismal drizzle chills us, consuming us as we sink in rain that sprays and sweeps through the city puddling on parkland and stone merciless, endless and mocking rain- a rain that soaks to the bone. The glasses raised: our wine, our win! torn between laughs and pain, the silence of dawn is in the wet air, mingling our dew with the rain.