Ar rannoù

! Strophe

! Théodore Hersart de La Villemarqué – "Ar rannoù"

| François-Marie Luzel – "Gousperoù ar raned"

| style="text-align:left;" |No series for number one: the single Need; Death, father of pain; nothing before, nothing more.

| style="text-align:left;" |A silver ring to Mary

| style="text-align:left;" |Two oxen harnessed to a shell; if they pull, they will die; behold a miracle!

| style="text-align:left;" |Two silver rings to Mary

| style="text-align:left;" |There are three parts to the world: three beginnings and three ends, for man and for the oak too.
Three kingdoms of Merzin (Merlin); golden fruits, bright flowers, little laughing children.

| style="text-align:left;" |Three queens in a palace,
Possessing the three sons of Henri,
Playing, humming (singing),
Each with her silver ring

| style="text-align:left;" |There are four whetstones: Merlin's whetstones, which sharpen swift swords.

| style="text-align:left;" |Four acolytes
Singing the Exaudi

| style="text-align:left;" |There are five zones around the earth: five ages in the span of time; a dolmen on our sister.

| style="text-align:left;" |Five very black cows,
Crossing a peat-bog

| style="text-align:left;" |There are six little children of wax, quickened by the energy of the moon; if you don't know it, I know it.
There are six medicinal plants in the small cauldron; the little dwarf mixes the drink, little finger in mouth.

| style="text-align:left;" |Six brothers and six sisters

| style="text-align:left;" |There are seven suns and seven moons, seven planets with the hen
Seven elements with the flour of the air (atoms).

| style="text-align:left;" |Seven days and seven months

| style="text-align:left;" |There are eight winds blowing; eight fires with the fire of the father, lit in the month of May on the mountain of war.
Eight heifers of the dazzling whiteness of sea foam, grazing the grass of the deep island; eight white heifers belonging to the Lady.

| style="text-align:left;" |Eight little threshers on the barn-floor
Threshing peas, threshing pods

| style="text-align:left;" |There are nine little white hands on the threshing-floor table near Lezarmeur's tower, and nine mothers who groan aloud.
Nine korrigans who by the light of the full moon dance around the spring, in clothes of white wool and with flowers in their hair.
There are the boar-sow and her nine piglets at the door of the château, their lair, growling and burrowing, burrowing and growling. Babies! Babies! Babies! Hurry back to the apple-tree! The old boar will give you a lesson.

| style="text-align:left;" |Nine sons in arms returning from Nantes
Their broken swords
Their bloody shirts
The most terrible son who holds his head high
Is frightened to see them

| style="text-align:left;" |Ten enemy ships have been seen coming from Nantes. Woe to you, woe to them, men of Vannes!

| style="text-align:left;" |Ten ships on the shores
Loaded with linen, with sheets

| style="text-align:left;" |Eleven armed belek coming from Vannes, with their swords shattered; and their robes bloodied; and their hazel-wood crutches; of three hundred of them only eleven are left.

| style="text-align:left;" |Grunting, growling
Eleven sows, eleven pigs

| style="text-align:left;" |There are twelve months and twelve signs; the last but one, Sagittarius, shoots his arrow armed with a sting.
The twelve signs are at war. The beautiful cow, the black cow with the white star on her brow, comes out of the forest of spoils;
In her breast is the sting of the arrow; her blood is flowing; she bellows, head raised;
The trumpet sounds: fire and thunder; rain and wind; thunder and fire; nothing; nothing; nothing, no series!

| style="text-align:left;" |Twelve pretty little swords
Angrily cutting up your gable
As fine as bran.