THE GODODIN POEMS.

BOOK OF ANEURIN I.

THIS IS THE GODODIN. ANEURIN COMPOSED IT.

Facsimile of a Page from the Book of Aneurin.

OF manly disposition was the youth,
Valour had he in the tumult;
Fleet thick-maned chargers
Were under the thigh of the illustrious youth;
A shield, light and broad,
Was on the slender swift flank,
A sword, blue and bright,
Golden spurs, and ermine.
It is not by me
That hatred shall be shown to thee;
I will do better towards thee,
To celebrate thee in poetic eulogy.
Sooner hadst thou gone to the bloody bier
Than to the nuptial feast;
Sooner hadst thou gone to be food for ravens
Than to the conflict of spears;
Thou beloved friend of Owain!
Wrong it is that he should be under ravens.
It is evident in what region
The only son of Marro was killed.

Caeawg, the leader, wherever he came,
Breathless in the presence of a maid would he distribute the mead;
The front of his shield was pierced, when he heard
The shout of battle, he would give no quarter wherever he pursued;
He would not retreat from the combat, until he caused
Blood to stream; like rushes would he hew down the men who would not yield.
The Gododin does not relate, in the land of Mordai,
Before the tents of Madawg, when he returned,
Of but one man in a hundred that came back.

Caeawg, the combatant, the stay of his country,
Whose attack is like the rush of the eagle into the sea,
          when allured by his prey;
He formed a compact, his signal was observed;
Better was his resolution performed: he retreated not
Before the host of Gododin, at the close of day.
With confidence he pressed upon the conflict of Manawyd;
And regarded neither spear nor shield.
There is not to be found a habitation that abounded in dainties,
That has been kept from the attack of the warriors.

Caeawg, the leader, the wolf of the strand,
Amber wreaths encircled his brow;
Precious was the amber, worth wine from the horn.
He repelled the violence of ignoble men, and blood trickled down;
For Gwynedd and the North would have come to his share,
By the advice of the son of Ysgyrran,
Who wore the broken shield.

Caeawg, the leader, armed was he in the noisy conflict;
His was the foremost part of the advanced division, in front of the hosts.
Before his blades fell five battalions.
Of the men of Deivyr and Brenneich, uttering groans:
Twenty hundred perished in one hour.
Sooner did his flesh go to the wolf, than he to the nuptial feast;
He sooner became food for the raven, than approached the altar;
Before he entered the conflict of spears, his blood streamed to the ground.
It was the price of mead in the hall, amidst the throng.
Hyveidd Hir shall be celebrated as long as there will be a minstrel.

The men went to Gododin with laughter and sprightliness,
Bitter were they in the battle, displaying their blades;
A short year they remained in peace.
The son of Bodgad, by the energy of his hand, caused a throbbing.
Though they went to churches to do penance,
The old, and the young, and the bold-handed,
The inevitable strife of death was to pierce them.

The men went to Gododin, laughing as they moved:
A gloomy disaster befell their army;
Thou slayest them with blades, without much noise:
Thou, powerful pillar of living right, causest stillness.

The men went to Catraeth, loquacious was their host;
Fresh mead was their feast, and also their poison.
Three hundred were contending with weapons;
And after sportive mirth, stillness ensued!
Though they went to churches to do penance,
The inevitable strife of death was to pierce them.

The men went to Catraeth, fed with mead, and drunk.
Firm and vigorous; it were wrong if I neglected to praise them.
Around the red, mighty, and murky blades
Obstinately and fiercely fought the dogs of war.
If I had judged you to be on the side of the tribe of Brenneich,
Not the phantom of a man would I have left alive.
A friend I have lost, myself being unhurt;
He openly opposed the terrible chief—
The magnanimous hero did not seek the dowry of his father-in-law;
The son of Cian of Maen Gwyngwn.

The men went to Catraeth with the dawn;
They dealt peaceably with those who feared them.
A hundred thousand and three hundred engaged in mutual overthrow.
Drenched in gore they served as butts for lances;
Their post they most manfully defended
Before the retinue of Mynyddawg Mwynvawr.

The men went to Catraeth with the dawn;
Regretted are their absence and their disposition;
Mead they drank, yellow, sweet, ensnaring.
In that year many a minstrel fell.
Redder were their swords than their plumes.
Their blades were white as lime, their helmets split into four parts,
Before the retinue of Mynyddawg Mwynvawr.

The men went to Catraeth with the day:
Have not the best of battles their disgrace?
They made biers a matter of necessity,
With blades full of vigour in defence of Baptism.
This is best before the alliance of kindred.
Exceedingly great was the bloodshed and death, of which
          they were the cause,
Before the army of Gododin, when the day occurred.
Is not a double quantity of discretion the best strengthener of a hero?

The man went to Catraeth with the day:
Truly he quaffed the foaming mead on serene nights;
He was unlucky, though proverbially fortunate:
His mission, through ambition, was that of a destroyer.
There hastened not to Catraeth
A chief so magnificent
As to his design on the standard.
Never was there such a host
From the fort of Eiddyn,
That would scatter abroad the mounted ravagers.
Tudvwlch Hir, near his land and towns,
Slaughtered the Saxons for seven days.
His valour remained until he was overpowered;
And his memory will remain among his fair associates.
When Tudvwlch, the supporter of the land, arrived,
The station of the son of Cilydd became a plain of blood.

The man went to Catraeth with the dawn;
To them were their shields a protection.
Blood they sought, the gleamers assembled:
Simultaneously, like thunder, arose the din of shields.
The man of envy, the deserter, and the base,
He would tear and pierce with pikes.
From an elevated position, he slew, with a blade,
In iron affliction, a steel-clad commander;
He subdued in Mordai those that owed him homage;
Before Erthgi armies groaned.

Of the battle of Catraeth, when it shall be related,
The people will utter sighs; long has been their sorrow.
There will be a dominion without a sovereign, and a murky land.
The sons of Godebawg, an upright clan,
Bore, streaming, long biers.
Sad was the fate, just the necessity,
Decreed to Tudvwlch and Cyvwlch Hir.
Together they drank the clear mead
By the light of the rushes,
Though pleasant to the taste, its banefulness lasted long.

Before Echeching, the splendid Caer, he shouted:
Young and forward men followed him;
Before, on the Bludwe the horn was poured out
In the joyful Mordai;
Before, his drink would be bragget;
Before, gold and rich purple he would display;
Before, high-fed horses would bear him safe away;
Gwrthlev and he, when he poured out the liquor,
Before, lie would raise the shout, and there would be a profitable diminution,
He was a bear in his march, always unwilling to skulk.

And now the early leader,
The sun is ascending,
The sovereign from which emanates universal light.
In the heaven of the Isle of Prydain.
Direful was the flight before the shaking
Of the shield in the direction of the victor;
Bright was the horn
In the hall of Eiddyn;
With pomp was he invited
To the feast of the intoxicating mead;
He drank the beverage of wine
At the meeting of the reapers;
He drank transparent wine,
With a daring purpose.
The reapers sing of war,
War with the shining wing;
The minstrels sang of war,
Of harnessed war,
Of winged war.
No shield was unexpanded
In the conflict of spears;
Of equal eye they fell
In the struggle of battle.
Unshaken in the tumult,
Without dishonour did he retaliate;
His will had to be conciliated
Ere became a green sward
The grave of Gwrvelling the great.

Qualities they will honour.
Three forward (chiefs or bands) of Novant,
A battalion of five hundred;
Three chiefs and three hundred;
There are three Knights of battle.
From Eiddyn, arrayed in golden armour,
Three loricated hosts.
Three Kings wearing the golden torques;
Three bold Knights.
Three equal battles;
Three of the same order, mutually jealous.
Bitterly would they chase the foe;
Three dreadful in the conflict;
Lions, that would kill dead as lead.
There was in the war a collection of gold;
Three sovereigns of the people.
Came from the Brython,
Cynri and Cenon
And Cynrain from Aeron,
To greet with ashen lances.
The Deivyr distillers.
Came there from the Brython,
A better man than Cynon,
A serpent to his sullen foes?

I drank mead and wine in Mordai,
Great was the quantity of spears
In the assembly of the warriors.
He prepared food for the eagle.
When Cydywal sallied forth, he raised
The shout with the green dawn, and dealt out tribulation;
Splintered shields about the ground he left,
With darts of awful tearing did he hew down;
In the battle, the foremost in the van
The son of Syvno wounded; the astronomer knew it.
He who sold his life,
In the face of warning,
With sharpened blades committed slaughter;
But he himself was slain by crosses and spears.
According to the compact, he meditated an attack,
And admired a pile of carcases
Of gallant men of toil,
Whom in the upper part of Gwynedd he pierced.

I drank wine and mead in Mordai,
And because I drank, I fell by the side of the rampart;
          the fate of allurement.
Colwedd the brave was not without ambition.
When all fell, thou didst also fall.
Thus, when the issue comes, it were well if thou hadst not sinned.
Present, it was related, was a person of a daring arm.

The men went to Catraeth; they were renowned;
Wine and mead from golden cups was their beverage;
That year was to them of exalted solemnity;
Three warriors and three score and three hundred,
          wearing the golden torques.
Of those who hurried forth after the excess of revelling,
But three escaped by the prowess of the gashing sword,
The two war-dogs of Aeron, and Cenon the dauntless,
And myself from the spilling of my blood, the reward of my sacred song.

My friend in real distress, we should have been by none disturbed,
Had not the white Commander led forth (his army):
We should not have been separated in the hall from the banquet of mead,
Had he not laid waste our convenient position.
He who is base in the field, is base on the hearth.
Truly the Gododin relates that after the gashing assault,
There was none more ardent than Llivieu.

Scattered, broken, of motionless form, is the weapon,
To which it was highly congenial to prostrate the horde of the Lloegrians.
Shields were strewn in the entrance, shields in the battle of lances;
He reduced men to ashes,
And made women widows,
Before his death.
Graid, the son of Hoewgi,
With spears,
He caused the effusion of blood.

Adan was the hero of the two shields
Whose front was variegated, and motion like that of a war-steed.
There was tumult in the mount of slaughter, there was fire,
Impetuous were the lances, there was sunshine,
There was food for ravens, for the raven there was profit.
And before he would let them go free,
With the morning dew, like the eagle in his pleasant course,
He scattered them on either side as they advanced forward.
The Bards of the world will pronounce an opinion on men of valour.
No ransom would avail those whom his standard pursued.
The spears in the hands of the warriors were causing devastation.
And ere was interred under his horses,
One who had been energetic in his commands,
His blood had thoroughly washed his armour:
Buddvan, the son of Bleiddvan the Bold.

It were wrong to leave him without a memorial, a great wrong.
He would not leave an open gap through cowardice;
The benefit of the minstrels of Prydain never quitted his court.
On the calends of January, according to his design.
His land was not ploughed, since it lay waste.
He was a mighty dragon of indignant disposition,
A commander in the bloody field after the banquet of wine;—
Gwenabwy, the son of Gwen, of the strife of Catraeth.

True it was, as songs relate,
No one’s steed overtook Marchleu.
The lances of the commander
From his prancing horse, strewed a thick path.
As he was reared to bring slaughter and support.
Furious was the stroke of his protecting sword;
Ashen shafts were scattered from the grasp of his hand.
From the stony pile;
He delighted to spread destruction.
He would slaughter with a variegated sword from a furze-bush;
As when a company of reapers comes in the interval of fine weather,
Would Marchleu cause the blood to flow.

Issac was sent from the southern region;
His conduct resembled the flowing sea;
He was full of modesty and gentleness,
When he delightfully drank the mead.
But along the rampart of Offer to the point of Maddeu,
He was not fierce without heroism, nor did he attempt
          scattering without effecting it,
His sword resounded in the mouths of mothers;
He was an ardent spirit, praise be to him, the son of Gwyddneu.

Ceredig, lovely is his fame;
He would gain distinction, and preserve it;
Gentle, lowly, calm, before the day arrived
In which he learned the achievements of the brave:
May it be the lot of the friend of songs to arrive
In the country of heaven, and recognise his home!

Ceredig, amiable leader,
A wrestler in the impetuous fight;
His gold-bespangled shield was conspicuous on the battle-field,
His lances were broken, and shattered into splinters,
The stroke of his sword was fierce and penetrating;
Like a man would he maintain his post.
Before he received the affliction of earth, before the fatal blow.
He had fulfilled his in guarding his station.
May he find a complete reception
With the Trinity in perfect unity.

When Caradawg rushed to battle,
Like the woodland boar was the gash of the hewer;
He was the bull of battle in the conflicting fight;
He allured wild dogs with his hand.
My witnesses are Owain the son of Eulad,
And Gwryen, and Gwyn, and Gwryad.
From Catraeth, from the conflict,
From Bryn Hydwn, before it was taken,
After having clear mead in his hand,
Gwrien did not see his father.

The men marched with speed, together they bounded onward;
Short-lived were they—having become drunk over the clarified mead.
The retinue of Mynyddawg, renowned in a trial,
Their life was the price of their banquet of mead;—
Caradawg and Madawg, Pyll and Ieuan,
Gwgawn and Gwiawn, Gwyn and Cynvan,
Peredur with steel arms, Gwawrddur and Aeddan.
A defence were they in the tumult, though with shattered shields,
When they were slain, they also slaughtered;
Not one to his native home returned.

The men marched with speed, together were they regaled
That year over mead; great was their design:
How sad to mention them! how grievous the longing for them!
Their retreat was poison; no mother’s son nurses them.
How long the vexation and how long the regret for them—
For the brave men of the wine-fed region!
Gwlyged of Gododin, having partaken of the inciting
Banquet of Mynyddawg, performed illustrious deeds,
And dear was the price he gave for the purchase of the conflict of Catraeth.

The men went to Catraeth in battle-array and with shout of war,
With the strength of steeds, and with dark-brown harness, and with shields,
With uplifted javelins, and sharp lances,
With glittering mail, and with swords.
He excelled, he penetrated through the host,
Five battalions fell before his blade;
Ruvawn Hir,—he gave gold to the altar,
And gifts and precious stones to the minstrel.

No hall was ever made so loquacious,—
So great, so magnificent for the slaughter.
Morieu procured and spread the fire,
He would not say that Cenon would not make a corpse
Of one harnessed, armed with a pike, and of wide­spread fame.
His sword resounded on the top of the rampart.
No more than a huge stone can be removed from its fixed place
Will Gwid, the son of Peithan, be moved.

No hall was ever so full of delegates:
Had not Moryen been like Caradawg,
With difficulty could he have escaped towards Mynawg.
Fierce, he was fiercer than the son of Fferawg;
Stout was his hand, he set flames to the retreating horsemen.
Terrible in the city was the cry of the multitude;
The van of the army of Gododin was scattered;
In the day of wrath he was nimble—and was he not
          destructive in retaliating?
The dependants of Mynyddawg deserved their horns of mead.

No hall was ever made so immovable
As that of Cynon of the gentle breast, sovereign of valuable treasures.
He sat no longer at the upper end of the high seat.
Those whom he pierced were not pierced again;
Sharp was the point of his lance;
With his enamelled armour he penetrated through the troops;
Swift in the van were the horses, in the van they tore along.
In the day of wrath, destruction attended his blade,
When Cynon rushed forward with the green dawn.

A grievous descent was made on his native place;
He repelled aggression, he fixed a boundary;
His spear forcibly pushed the laughing chiefs of war:
Even as far as Effyd reached his valour, which was like that of Elphin;
Eithinyn the renowned, an ardent spirit, the bull of conflict.

A grievous descent was made on his native place,
The price of mead in the hall, and the feast of wine;
His blades were scattered about between two armies,
Illustrious was the knight in front of Gododin.
Eithinyn the renowned, an ardent spirit, the bull of conflict.

A grievous descent was made in front of the extended riches;
The army dispersed with trailing shields.—
A shivered shield before the herd of the roaring Beli.
A dwarf from the bloody field hastened to the fence;
On our part there came a hoary-headed man to take counsel.
On a prancing steed, bearing a message from the golden-torqued leader.
Twrch proposed a compact in front of the destructive course:
Worthy was the shout of refusal;
We cried, “Let heaven be our protection;
Let his compact be that he should be prostrated by the spear in battle.”
The warriors of the far-famed Aclud
Would not contend without prostrating his host to the ground.

For the piercing of the skilful and most learned man,
For the fair corpse which fell prostrate on the ground,
For the falling of the hair from off his head,
From the grandson of the eagle of Gwydien,
Did not Gwyddwg defend with his spear,
Resembling and honouring his master?
Morieu of the sacred song defended
The wall, and deposed the head
Of the chief in the ground, both our support and our sovereign
Equal to three men, to please the maid, was Bradwen,
Equal to twelve was Gwenabwy the son of Gwen.

For the piercing of the skilful and most learned man,
He bore a shield in the action;
With energy did the stroke of his sword fall on the head.
In Lloegyr he caused gashings before three hundred chieftains.
He who takes hold of a wolf’s mane without a club
In his hand, must naturally have a brave disposition under his cloak.
In the engagement of wrath and carnage
Bradwen perished—he did not escape.

A man moved rapidly on the wall of the Caer,
He was of a warlike disposition; neither a house nor a
          city was actively engaged in battle.
One weak man, with his shouts,
Endeavoured to keep off the birds of battle.
Surely Syll of Mirein relates that there were more
That had chanced to come from Llwy,
From around the inlet of the flood;
Surely he relates that there were more
At an early hour,
Equal to Cynhaval in merit.

When thou, famous conqueror!
Wast protecting the ear of corn in the uplands
Deservedly were we said to run like men of mark.
The entrance to Din Drei was not guarded.
Such as was fond of treasure took it;
There was a city for the army that should venture to enter.
Gwynwyd was not called, where he was not.

Since there are a hundred men in one house,
I know the cares of distress.
The chief of the men must pay the contribution.

I am not headstrong and petulant.
I will not avenge myself on him who drives me.
I will not laugh in derision.
Under foot for a while,
My knee is stretched,
My hands are bound,
In the earthen house,
With an iron chain
Around my two knees.
Yet of the mead from the horn,
And of the men of Catraeth,
I, Aneurin, will compose,
As Taliesin knows,
An elaborate song,
Or a strain to Gododin,
Before the dawn of the brightest day.

The chief exploit of the North did the hero accomplish;
Of a generous breast was he, liberal is his progeny;
There does not walk upon the earth, mother has not borne
Such an illustrious, powerful, iron-clad warrior.
By the force of the gleaming sword he protected me,
From the dismal earthen prison he brought me out,
From the place of death, from a hostile region:—
Ceneu, the son of Llywarch, energetic, bold.

He would not bear the reproach of a congress,
Senyllt, with his vessels full of mead;
He enriched his sword with deeds of violence;
He enriched those who rushed to war;
And with his arm made pools (of blood).
In front of the armies of Gododin and Brennych.
Fleet horses were customary in his hall.
There was streaming gore, and dark-brown harness.
A long stream of light there was from his hand.
And like a hunter shooting with the bow
Was Gwen; and the attacking parties mutually repulsed each other,
Friend and foe by turns;
The men did not cut their way to flee,
But they were the general defenders of every region.

Llech Lleutu and Tud Lleudvre,
The course of Gododin,
The course of Ragno, close at hand,
The hand that was director of the splendour of battle,
With the branch of Caerwys.
Before it was shattered
By the season of the storm, by the storm of the season,
To form a rank in front of myriads of men,
Coming from Dindywydd,
Excited with rage,
Deeply did they design,
Sharply did they pierce,
Wholly did the host chant,
Battered was their shield;
Before the bull of conflict
Their van was broken.

His languid foes trembled greatly,
Since the battle of most active tumult,
At the border of Banceirw,
Around the border of Bancarw;
The fingers of Brych will break the bar,
For Pwyll, for Disteir, for Distar,
For Pwyll, for Roddig, for Rychwardd,
A strong bow was spent by Rys in Riwdrech.
They that were not bold did not attain their purpose;
None escaped that was once overtaken and pierced.

It was no good deed that his shield should be pierced.
On the side of his horse;
Not meetly did he place his thigh
On the long-legged, slender, gray charger.
Dark was his shaft, dark,
Darker was his saddle.
Thy man is in his cell,
Gnawing the shoulder of a buck;
May he have the benefit of his hand!
Far be he!

It was well that Adonwy came to Gwen;
Gwen was left without Bradwen.
Thou didst fight, kill, and burn,
Thou didst not do worse than Moryen;
Thou didst not regard the rear or the van.
Of the towering figure without a helmet.
Thou didst not observe the great swelling sea of knights.
That would hew down, and grant no quarter to the Saxons.

Gododin, in respect of thee will I demand
The dales beyond the ridges of Drum Essyd.
The slave to the love of money is without self-control.
By the counsel of thy son let thy valour shine forth.
It was not a degrading advice.
In front of Tan Veithin,
From twilight to twilight, the edge gleamed.
Glitterring exterior had the purple of the pilgrim.
Gwaws, the defenceless, the delight of the bulwark of battle, was slain.
His scream was inseparable from Aneurin.

Together arise the associated warriors,
To Catraeth the loquacious multitude eagerly march;
The effect of mead in the hall, and the beverage of wine.
Blades were scattered between the two armies.
Illustrious was the knight in front of Gododin:—
Eithinyn the renowned, an ardent spirit, the bull of conflict.

Together arise the associated warriors,
Strangers to the country, their deeds shall be heard of.
The bright wave murmured along on its pilgrimage,
While the young deer were in full melody.
Among the spears of Brych thou couldst see no rods.
Merit does not accord with the rear.
Moryal in pursuit will not countenance evil deeds,
With his steel blade ready for the effusion of blood.

Together arise the associated warriors.
Strangers to the country, their deeds shall be heard of.
There was slaughtering with axes and blades,
And there was raising large cairns over the men of toil.

Together arise the warriors, together met,
And all with one accord sallied forth;
Short were their lives, long is the grief of those who loved them.
Seven times their number of Lloegrians they had slain;
After the conflict women raised a lamentation;
Many a mother has the tear on her eyelash.

No hall was ever made so faultless
Nor a hero so generous, with the aspect of a lion of the greatest course,
As Cynon of the gentle breast, the most comely lord.
The city, its fame extends to the remotest parts;
It was the staying shelter of the army, the benefit of flowing melody.
In the world, engaged in arms, the battle-cry,
And war, the most heroic was he;
He slew the mounted ravagers with the sharpest blade;
Like rushes did they fall before his hand.
Son of Clydno, of lasting fame! I will sing
To thee a song of praise without limit, without end.

From the banquet of wine and mead
They deplored the death
Of the mother of Hwrreith.
The energetic Eidiol.
Honoured her in front of the hill,
And before Buddugre,
The hovering ravens
Ascend in the sky.
The foremost spearmen fall
Like a virgin-swarm around him
Without the semblance of a retreat
Warriors in wonder shook their javelins,
With pallid lips,
Caused by the keenness of the destructive sword.
Wakeful was the carousal at the beginning of the banquet;
To-day sleepless is
The mother of Reiddun, the leader of the tumult.

From the banquet of wine and mead
They went to the strife
Of mail-clad warriors: I know no tale of slaughter which accords
So complete a destruction as has happened.
Before Catraeth, loquacious was the host.
Of the retinue of Mynyddawg, the unfortunate hero,
Out of three hundred but one man returned.

From the banquet of wine and mead they hastened,
Men renowned in difficulty, careless of their lives;
In bright array around the viands they feasted together;
Wine and mead and meal they enjoyed.
From the retinue of Mynyddawg I am being ruined;
And I have lost a leader from among my true friends.
Of the body of three hundred men that hastened to
Catraeth, alas! none have returned but one alone.

Pressent, in the combat of spears, was impetuous as a ball,
And on his horse would he be, when not at home;
Yet illusive was his aid against Gododin.
Of wine and mead he was lavish;
He perished on the course;
And under red-stained warriors
Are the steeds of the knight, who in the morning had been bold.

Angor, thou who scatterest the brave,
Like a serpent thou piercest the sullen ones,
Thou tramplest upon those that are clad in strong mail
In front of the army;
Like an enraged bear, guarding and assaulting,
Thou tramplest upon spears.
In the day of conflicts
In the swampy entrenchment:
Like Neddig Nar,
Who in his fury prepared
A feast for the birds,
In the tumultuous fight.
Upright thou art called from thy righteous deed,
Before the director and bulwark of the course of war,
Merin, and Madyen, it is fortunate that thou wert born.

It is incumbent to sing of the complete acquisition
Of the warriors, who around Catraeth made a tumultuous rout.
With confusion and blood, treading and trampling.
The strength of the drinking horn was trodden down,
          because it had held mead;
And as to the carnage of the interposers
Cibno does not relate, after the commencement of the action.
Since thou hast received the communion thou shalt be interred.

It is incumbent to sing of so much renown,
The loud noise of fire, and of thunder, and of tempest,
The noble manliness of the knight of conflict.
The ruddy reapers of war are thy desire,
Thou man of might! but the worthless wilt thou behead,
In battle the extent of the land shall hear of thee.
With thy shield upon thy shoulder thou dost incessantly cleave
With  thy blade (until blood flows) like refined wine from glass vessels.
As money for drink, thou art entitled to gold.
Wine-nourished was Gwaednerth, the son of Llywri.

It is incumbent to sing of the illustrious retinue,
That, after the fatal impulse, filled Aeron.
Their hands satisfied the mouths of the brown eagles,
And prepared food for the beasts of prey.
Of those who went to Catraeth, wearing the golden torques,
Upon the message of Mynyddawg, sovereign of the people,
There came not without reproach on behalf of the Brython,
To Gododin, a man from afar better than Cynon.

It is incumbent to sing of so skilful a man;
Joyous was he in the hal; his life was not without ambition;
Bold, all around the world would Eidol seek for melody;
For gold, and fine horses, and intoxicating mead.
Only one man of those who loved the world returned,—
Cynddilig of Aeron, the grandson of Enovant.

It is incumbent to sing of the illustrious retinue
That went on the message of Mynyddawg, sovereign of the people,
And the daughter of Eudav Hir, the scourge of Gwananhon,
Who was appareled in purple robes, certain to cause manglings.

The warriors celebrated the praise of Nyved,
When in their presence fire was lighted.
On Tuesday, they put on their dark-brown garments;
On Wednesday, they polished their enamelled armour;
On Thursday, their destruction was certain;
On Friday, was brought carnage all around:
On Saturday, their joint labour did no execution;
On Sunday, their blades assumed a ruddy hue;
On Monday, was seen a pool knee-deep of blood.
Truly, the Gododin relates that, after the toil,
Before the tents of Madawg, when he returned,
Only one man in a hundred came back,

Early rising in the morn
There was a conflict at the Aber in front of the course,
The pass and the knoll were in conflagration.
Like a boar didst thou lead to the mount,
There was treasure for him that was fond of it; there was room;
And there was the blood of dark-brown hawks.

Early rising in an instant of time,
After kindling a fire at the Aber in front of the fence,
After leading his men in close array,
In front of a hundred he pierced the foremost.
It was sad that you should have caused a gushing of blood,
Like the drinking of mead in the midst of laughter.
It was brave of you to stay the little man
With the fierce and impetuous stroke of the sword.
How irresistible was he when he would kill
The foe! would that his equal could be found!

He fell headlong down the precipice;
Song did not support his noble head:
It was a violation of privilege to kill him when bearing the branch,
It was the usage that Owain should ascend upon the course,
And extend, before the onset, the best branch,
And that he should pursue the study of meet and learned strains.
An excellent man was he, the assuager of tumult and battle,
His grasp dreaded a sword;
In his hand he bore an empty corselet.
O sovereign, dispense rewards
Out of his precious shrine.
Eidol, with frigid blood and pallid countenance,
Spreading carnage, his judgment was just and supreme,
Owner of horses
And strong trappings,
And ice-like shields;
Instantaneously he makes an onset, ascending and descending.

The leader of war with eagerness conducts the battle,
A mighty country loves mighty reapers.
Blood is a heavy return for new mead.
His cheeks are covered with armour all around,
There is a trampling of accoutrements—accoutrements are trampled.
He calls for death and brings desolation.
In the first onset his lances penetrate the targets,
And for light on the course, shrubs blaze on the spears.

A conflict on all sides destroyed thy cell;
And a hall there was to thee, where used to be poured out
Mead, sweet and ensnaring.
Gwrys make the battle clash with the dawn;
The fair gift of the tribes of the Lloegrians;
Punishment he inflicted until a reverse came.
May the dependants of Gwynedd hear of his renown.
Gwananhon will be his grave.
The lance of the conflict of Gwynedd,
The bull of the host, the oppressor of sovereigns,
Before earth pressed upon him, before he lay down;
Be the extreme boundary of Gododin his grave!

An army is accustomed to be in hardships.
Mynawg, the bitter-handed leader of the forces,
He was wise, ardent, and stately:
At the social banquet he was not at all harsh.
They removed the valuable treasures that were in his possession:
And not the image of anything for the benefit of the region was left.
We are  called! Like the sea is the tumult in the conflict;
Spears are mutually darting—spears all equally destructive;
Impelled are sharp weapons of iron, gashing even the ground,
And with a clang the sock falls on the pate.
A successful warrior was Fflamddur against the enemy.

He supported war-horses and war-harness.
Drenched with gore on red-stained Catraeth
Is the shaft of the army of Dinus,
The angry dog of war upon the towering hill.
We are called to the honourable post of assault;
Most conspicuous is the iron-clad Heiddyn.

Mynawg of the impregnable strand of Gododin,
Mynawg, for him our cheeks are sad:
Before the raging flame of Eiddyn he turned not aside.
He stationed men of firmness at the entrance,
He placed a thick covering in the van,
Vigorously he descended upon the furious foe;
He caused devastation and sustained great weight.
Of the retinue of Mynyddawg there escaped none
Except one frail weapon, tottering every way.

Since the loss of Moryed there was no shield-bearer,
To support the strand, or to set the ground on fire;
Firmly did he grasp in his hand a blue blade,
A shaft ponderous as a chief priest’s crozier;
He rode a gray stately-headed courser,
And behind his blade there was a dreadful fall of slaughter;
When overpowered, he did not run away from the battle.
He poured out to us sparkling mead, sweet and ensnaring.

I beheld the array from the high land of Adoyn;
They  descended with the sacrifice for the conflagration;
I saw  what was usual, a continual running to the town,
And the men of Nwythyon entirely lost;
I saw  men in complete order approaching with a shout;
And  the heads of Dyvynwal and Breych, ravens devoured them.

Blessed conqueror, of temper mild, the bone of the people,
With  his blue streamer displayed, while the foes range the sea.
Brave is he on the waters, most numerous his host;
With a bold breast and loud shout they pierced him.
It was his custom to make a descent before nine armaments,
In the face of blood, of the country, and of the tribes.
I love the victor’s throne which was for harmonious strains,
Cynddilig of Aeron, the lion’s whelp!

I could wish to have been the first to fall in Catraeth,
As the price of mead in the hall, and the beverage of wine;
I could wish to have been pierced by the blade,
Ere he was slain on the green plain of Uffin.
I loved the son of renown, who caused blood to flow,
And made his sword descend upon the violent.
Can a tale of valour before Gododin be related,
In which the son of Ceidiaw has not his fame as a man of war?

It is sad for me, after our toil,
To suffer the pang of death through indiscretion;
And doubly grievous and sad for me to see
Our men falling from head to foot,
With a long sigh and with reproaches.
After the strenuous warriors of our native land and country,
Ruvawn and Gwgawn, Gwiawn and Gwlyged,
Men most gallant at their posts, valiant in difficulties,
May their souls, now after the conflict,
Be received into the country of heaven, the abode of tranquillity.

He repelled the chain through a pool of blood,
He slaughtered like a hero such as asked no quarter.
With a sling and a spear; he flung off his glass goblet
Of mead; in the presence of sovereigns he overthrew an army.
His counsel prevailed wherever he spoke.
A multitude that had no pity would not be allowed
Before the onset of his battle-axes and sword;
Sharpened they were; and his sounding blade was carefully watched.

A supply of an army,
A supply of lances,
And a host in the vanguard,
With a menacing front:
In the day of strenuous exertion,
In the eager conflict,
They displayed their valour.
After intoxication,
And the drinking of mead,
There was no deliverance.
They watched us
For a while;
When it shall be related how the attack
Of horses and men was repelled, it will be pronounced the decree of fate.

Why should so much anxiety come to me?
I am anxious about the maid—
The maid that is in Arddeg.
There is a precipitate running,
And lamentation along the course.
Affectionately have I deplored,
Deeply have I loved,
The illustrious dweller of the wood!
And the men of Argoed.
Woe to those who are accustomed
To be marshalled for battle!
He pressed hard upon the hostile force, for the benefit of chieftains,
Through rough woods,
And dammed-up waters,
To the festivities,
At which they caroused together: he conducted us to a bright fire,
And to a white and fresh hide.
Gereint from the south raised a shout;
A brilliant gleam reflected on the pierced shield.
Of the lord of the spear, a gentle lord;
Attached to the glory of the sea.
Posterity will accomplish
What Gereint would have done.
Generous and resolute wert thou!

Instantaneously his fame is wafted on high,
Irresistible was Angor in the conflict,
Unflinching eagle of the forward heroes;
He bore the toil, brilliant was his zeal;
He outstripped fleetest horses in war;
But he was mild when the wine from the goblet flowed.
Before the new mead, and his cheek became pale,
He was a man of the banquet over delicious mead from the bowl.

With slaughter was every region filled;
His courage was like a fetter:
The front of his shield was pierced.
Disagreeable is the delay of the wrathful
To defend Rywoniawg.
The second time they raised the shout, and were crushed
By the war-horses with gory trappings.
An immovable army with his warlike nobles form,
And the field was reddened when he was greatly enraged.
Severe in the conflict, with a blade he slaughtered;
Sad news from the battle he brought;
And a New-year’s song he composed.
Adan, the son of Ervai, there was pierced,
Adan! the haughty boar, was pierced,
One damsel, a maid, and a hero.
And when he was only a youth he had the rights of a king.
Being lord of Gwyndyd, of the blood of Glyd Gwaredawg.
Ere the turf was laid on the gentle face
Of the generous dead, now undisturbed,
He was celebrated for fame and generosity.
This is the grave of Garthwys Hir from the land of Rywoniawg.

The coat of Dinogad was of various colours,
And made of the speckled skins of young wolves.
“Whistle! whistle!” the juggling sound!
I fain would dispraise it; it is dispraised by eight slaves.
When thy father went out to hunt,
With his pole on his shoulder, and his provisions in his hand,
He would call to his dogs of equal size,—
“Catch it! catch it! seize it! seize it!”
He would kill a fish in his coracle,
As a noble lion kills (his prey).
When thy father went up to the mountain
He would bring back the head of a roebuck, the
          head of a wild boar, the head of a stag,
The head of a spotted moor-hen from the mountain,
The head of a fish from the falls of Derwennyd.
As many as thy father could reach with his flesh-hook,
Of wild boars, lions, and foxes.
None would escape except those that were too nimble.

If distress were to happen to me through extortion,
There would not come, there would not be to me anything more calamitous.
No man has been nursed in a hall who could be braver
Than he, or steadier in battle.
And on the ford of Penclwyd his horses were the best;
Far-spread was his fame, compact his armour;
And before the long grass covered him beneath the sod,
He, the only son of Ffervarch, poured out the horns of mead.

I saw the array from the headland of Adoyn,
Carrying the sacrifice to the conflagration;
I saw the two who from their station quickly fell;
By the commands of Nwython greatly were they afflicted.                       -
I saw the men, who made a great breach, with the dawn at Adoyn;
And the head of Dyvynwal Vrych, ravens devoured it.

Gododin, in respect of thee will I demand
In the presence of a hundred that are named with deeds of valour.
And of Gwarchan, the son of Dwywei of gallant bravery,
Let it be forcibly seized in one region.
Since the stabbing of the delight of the bulwark of battle,
Since earth has gone upon Aneurin,
My cry has not been separated from Gododin.

Echo speaks of the formidable and dragon-like weapons,
And of the fair game which was played in front of
          the unclaimed course of Gododin.
He brought a supply of wine into the tents of the natives,
In the season of the storm, when there were vessels on the sea,
When there was a host on the sea, a well-nourished host.
A splendid troop of warriors, successful against a myriad of men,
Is coming from Dindywydd in Dyvnwydd.
Before Doleu in battle, worn out were their shields, and battered their helmets.

With slaughter was every region filled.
His courage was like a fetter;
The front of his shield was pierced.
Disagreeable is the delay of the brave
To defend Rywyniawg.
The second time they reposed, and were crushed
By the war-horses with gory trappings.
An immovable army will his warlike and brave nobles form,
When they are greatly affronted.
Severe in the conflict with blades he slaughtered;
Sad news from the battle he brought;
And an hundred New-years’ songs he composed.
Adan, the son of Urvai, was pierced;
Adan, the haughty boar, was pierced;
One damsel, a maid, and a hero.
And when he was only a youth he had the rights of a king,
Lord of Gwyndyd, of the blood of Cilydd Gwaredawg
Ere the turf was laid on the face of the generous dead,
Wisely collected were his treasure, praise, and high-sounding fame,
The grave of Gorthyn Hir from the highlands of Rywynawg.

For the piercing of the skilful and most learned man,
For the fair corpse which fell prostrate on the ground,
Thrice six persons judged the atrocious deed early in the morning;
And Morien lifted up his ancient lance,
And, shouting, unbent his tight-drawn bow
Towards the Gwyr, and the Gwyddyl, and Prydein.
Towards the lovely, slender, bloodstained body
The sigh of Gwenabwy, the son of Gwen.

For the afflicting of the skilful and most learned man,
There was grief and sorrow, when he fell prostrate on the ground;
His banner showed his rank, and was borne by a man at his side.
A tumultuous scene was beheld in Eiddyn, and on the battle-field.
The grasp of his hand prevailed
Over the Gynt, and the Gwyddyl, and Pryden,
He who meddles with the mane of a wolf without a club in his hand,
He must naturally have a brave disposition under his cloak.
The sigh of Gwenabwy, the son of Gwen.

BOOK OF ANEURIN II.

HERE BEGINNETH THE GORCHAN OF TUDVWLCH.

THEY assemble in arms, the ranks are formed, tumult approaches;
In front are the warlike, in front the noble, in front the good;
While the trenches are full of motion, around are heard the
          curved horns, and are seen the curved falchions;
To the praise of the king with the host whose presence is devastation.
I saw dark gore arising on the stalks of plants, on the clasp of the fetter,
On the bunches, on the sovereign, on the bush, and the spear:
And ruddy was the sea-beach; and on the sea-beach, and in Ewionydd
And Gwynheidyd splendid excess prevailed.
The crowd made a firm stay before the ceremony, like the checking of excess.
Uplifted were the shields around the front of the aged
          when the excess prevailed.
A wolf in his lifetime was Bleiddiad, unrestrained in his bravery.
Active were the glittering shafts with the aspect of a
          serpent, from the radiance of serpents.
Wounded thou art, commander of rulers, and delight of females.
Thou lovedst partly to live: I wish thou livedst, O thou of victorious energy!
Unjustly oppressed bull (of conflict), I deplore thy death,
          thou who wert fond of the tumult!
In the face of the sea, in the front rank of men, around the pit of battle
Bran combats in Cynwyd.
A wave burst forth which afflicted the world.
He refused to the tribes of the country, and for the benefit of the infantry,
Four multitudes, four military troops of the world.
The shields were in splinters, and the blade in the hair of one from the square,
The man who poured the expressed mead out of the blue horns,
A man of quality, surrounded with purple, the stay of armies.
It was the performance of Tudvwlch of severe aspect, whose
          standard was of the colour of the blood of grapes.
By reason of mead free drunk, a multitude went over the boundary.
In the action at the goal, for the preservation of law.
Cynan, the energetic chief from Mona, acted justly as
          regards the higher orders.
Tudvwlch and Cyvwlch made breaches in the heights of Caers;
With Mynyddawg disastrous did their wassails prove.
A year of longing for the men of Catraeth is cherished by me;—
Their steel blades, their mead, their vehemence, and their fetters.
They assemble in arms, the ranks are formed; do I not hear the tumult?

AND SO IT ENDETH.

BOOK OF ANEURIN III.

HERE BEGINNETH THE GWARCHAN OF ADEBON.

THE apple will not fall far from the apple-tree.
The diligent cannot prosper with the prodigal.
The naked will not be bold among thistles.
All, when made to swear overmuch, will fail.
Would I love him who would love the rapacious?
Death will not occur twice.
His speech is of no use to the dumb.
Thou wilt not delight to put one of the same language in fear.
The horses of an effeminate person are his dainties.

•        •        •        •        •        •        •

At home peace has been lost.
Be thy mansion large, thou wert a hero in the day of conflict.
As long as there will be things to seek for thee there will be seekers.
High stones, a reaping to the foe.
The conclusion of the Gwarchan of Adebon.

AND SO ENDETH THE GWARCHAN OF ADEBON.

BOOK OF ANEURIN IV.

HERE NOW BEGINNETH THE GORCHAN OF CYNVELYN.

WERE I to praise,
Were I to sing,
The Gwarchan would cause high shoots to spring,
Stalks like the collar of Trych Trwyth,
Monstrously savage, bursting and thrusting through,
When he was attacked in the river
Before his precious things.
Carn Gaffon burst through,
Before the cairns of Riwrhon,
Those that delighted in war,
Whose bones were short, their horsemen shorter.
Gylvach burst through
The assaults of heroism.
Fury against the Angles is just;
It is right to kill; it is right to crush those who are crushing.
Before the congenial splendour
There will be light for furthering the project,
And ability to descend
To every daring enterprise,
Through nail, through snare,
Through trapdoor, and fetters,
And gold spread abroad;
And deep sorrow will happen
To Gwynassedd the yellow.
His blood will be around him
Concealed will be the froth
Of the splendid yellow mead;
Again there will be blood around him
Before the battles of Cynvelyn,—
From the indignation of Cynvelyn,
The uplifted pillar of wrath,
Food-provider for the birds.
With pendent stirrups
Will the graceful ones return,
Under the thigh of the heroes,
As swift as sprites move
On a pleasant lawn.
Sovereign of the land of song!
It is mine to lament him,
Until I come to the silent day!
The foe asked for
A long-handled weapon!
More powerful than the highly-honoured lays
Is the Gwarchan of Cynvelyn.
The Gorchan of Cynvelyn, to make the region weep.
A man of fortitude from Gwynedd has departed his country!
The brave are lamented;
Let the Caer of Eiddin deplore
The dread and illustrious men clothed in splendid blue.
Brilliant is thy ruddy gem—is it not precious?
Flowing panegyric is due to the horses
Of Eithinyn—are they not splendid?
The Gwarchan of Cynvelyn on Gododin!
Has he not, for a man, performed a reasonable part?
His heavy spear, adorned with gold, he bestowed on me;
Be it for the benefit of his soul!
His son Tegvan shall be honoured
In numbering and in partitioning, the grandson of Cadvan,
The pillar of ardency.
When weapons were hurled
Over the heads of battle-wolves,
Soon would he come in the day of distress.
Three men and three score and three hundred
To the conflict of Catraeth went forth;
Of those who hastened
From the mead of the cup-bearers, three only returned,—
Cynon, and Cadreith, and Cadlew of Cadnant;
And me, on account of my blood they deplored,
Son of the omen pile, my ransom they contributed,
Of pure gold, and steel, and silver.
For their heroism they received no protection.
The Gwarchan of Cynvelyn will celebrate their contribution.

HERE ENDETH THE GWARCHAN OF CYNVELYN.

BOOK OF ANEURIN V.

Every ode of the Gododin is equivalent to a single song, according to the privilege of poetical composition. Each of the Gwarchans is equal to three hundred and sixty-three songs, because the number of the men who went to Catraeth is commemorated in the Gorchans; and as no man should go to battle without arms, so no bard ought to contend without that poem.

Here now begins the Gwarchan of Maelderw. Taliessin sung it, and it is a privileged ode. His three Gwarchans are equal in poetical competition to all the odes in the Gododin.

The noise of two Abers around the Caer!
Arouse thyself to arms and splendour!
Cold is the passing and repassing of the breach of battle.
Lover of fame, seekest thou to sleep?
The variegated texture, the covering of heroism,
For the shelterless assault shall be woven.
The breach that has been attempted will not be effected.
Bear the patient exertion of heroism.
Sharply in arms he used to frown,
But mildly allured he the intellectual world.
A man that will run when thou pursuest,
Will have the rounded house of the sepulchre for his bed.
Call together, but do not reproach the over-anxious;
And meddle not with the fierce and violent.
Let him who has a just claim break the boundary.
He does not calculate upon praise
Who defends his shelter.
Praise is the meed of those who have made impressions.
The victor gazed towards the fair one.
Of bright and prominent uplifted front,
On the ruddy dragon, the palladium of Pharaon,
Which will in the air accompany the people.
Dead is every one that fell on his mouth
In the repulsion of the march of Teth and Teddyd.
Courteous was the great retinue of the wall, of ashen spears.
To the sea thou mayst not come;
But neither thy retreat nor thy counsel will fail,
Thou magnanimous soul in the defence of his boundaries.
No more can they extricate themselves,
Extricate themselves before the barrier of Eiddyn.
Cenan, the fair wall of excellence,
Placed a sword on the entrenchment of warriors.
Victorious was the chief
In dispossessing the sovereign,
The inconstant
Gray-headed chief of ministers,
Whose counsels were deep.
The mutually sweet will not produce the mutually bitter.
I have mutually wished,
I do mutually wish for the repose of Enlli
The fair aspect of which is filled with deep interest,
On the course on a serene morning.
It allures me, it plays upon my strong desire.
I will ask the men for a dwelling,
In order to lessen the loss.
Happiness was lost and recovered.
The northern Run, chieftain, thou hast caused to withdraw;
The fat one in returning thou wilt cause to return to me.
They call more for large trees than for honeysuckles.

(Three lines untranslated).

Let the sovereign stand firm between the looks of Dremrudd,
The ruddy glancer, whose purpose cannot be viewed for a sufficient time,
Whose purpose cannot be viewed for a sufficient time,
By those who with impunity plough the noisy sea.
First to be satisfied is the pale one,
The eccentric, whose throne is of complete form.
Before he was covered, Gownddelw
Was a tall man of great worth like Maelderw.
I will extol him who wields the spear,
Whose course is like that of the ruler of the mount,
The pervader of the land, by whose influence I am moved.
With active tumult did he descend to the ravine between the hills,
Nor was his presence a running shadow.
Whatever may befall the high land,
Disgrace shall never happen to the assembled train.
It is well that Adonwy came, Adonwy to those that were left.
What Bradwen did, thou hast done; thou didst kill and burn,
Thou didst not keep the rear or the van.
I know the aspect of thy helmet. I have not seen from sea
To sea a worse knight than Odgur.

Three hundred golden-torqued ones hastened along
To engage in the conflict; a sally ensued;
And though they were killed, they also killed;
And unto the end of the world honoured they shall be;
And of those who went in mutual amity,
Alas! except one man none escaped.

Three hundred wearing the golden torques,
Fond of valorous toil, and headlong in the course;
Three hundred haughty ones,
Unanimous, and equally armed.
Three hundred prancing horses
Did with them hasten.
Three chiefs and three hundred,
Alas! none returned.

Furious in the battle, unreceding in distress;
In the conflict there was no peace if he acted vigorously;
In the day of wrath, shunning was no part of his work;
The aspect of a boar had Bleiddig son of Eli;
Wine was quaffed in brimful vessels of glass;
And the day of battle, exploits did he achieve
On Arvwl Cann, before he died.
Ruddy-tinted carnage used to attract him:

Vigorously in the front of battles would he cause the crimson fluid to flow,
Powerful as an instrument in battle,
And splendidly covered with mail.
Report informs me
That the dexterous blade
Will not be manifested
To the diffident.

He would reduce men to ashes,
And make wives widows,
Before his death,—
Breint, son of Bleiddgi;
With spears would he
Cause blood to flow.

Great is the design of him who conceals his vigorous attack;
His weapon he will conceal
Like a hidden treasure.
When all ascended, thou descendest.
Ceneu Gwyn, the blood of the dead how didst thou shed!
Three years and four,
Thou, guardian, didst put on magnificent raiment.
And to protect thee,
Though a youth, it was not right for me, for thou didst not retreat.
Pressent narrates that he was carried away with the arms.

When he repaired to his native country, his fame was spread abroad;
He poured out the wine, the golden-torqued man!
He would give a gorgeously fine suit to a brave person,
And check a hundred men, courteous hero!
And send away the progeny of a foreign knight;—
The only son of Cian from beyond Bannawg,
Never did in Gododin tread on the surface of the fosse,
While he was, any one more ardent than Lliv.

Angor, the scatterer of the brave, serpent with the piercing pike,
An immovable stone in front of the army;
Accustomed to the preparation of attacks,
And greatly to reward the assaulting lance.
Perfect art thou called from thy just deed,
Leader, director, and bulwark of all that are of the sanme language:
Tudvwlch, the subduer in battle, the destroyer of Caers.

Angor, the scatterer of the brave, serpent with the
          piercing pike in the front of the army;
Perfect art thou called from thy just deed.
Faithful art thou called from thy faithful deed.
Leader, director, and the bulwark of every tribe,
Meryn, son of Madyeith, it is well that thou art born!

Gwolowy secured a gray wolf, whose roaring was as that of water.
Angor, the scatterer of the brave, an immovable stone in the front of the army.
Ruddy radiance, and horses, and men were in front of Gododin,
Whence so rapidly ascends the address
Of the Bard of the Cymry, Tottarth, in front of Garth Merin.

His shield, with endurance, he would not lower
Before the face of any one; wrong he would not encourage.
Urgent were the requests for horses in the entrance.
The gold of the heroes, the crowd of holly lances covered it with gore.
While his comrade was pierced, he pierced others;
Disgrace to thee he would not bring:
Active in martial valour, he made a noble display,
When he carried away the famous Cyhuran of Mordei.

Falsely it was said by Tudleo,
That no one’s steeds were overtaken by Marchlew,
As he was reared to bring support to all around:
Powerful was the stroke of his sword on the adversary;
Eagerly ascended the ashen spear from the grasp
Of his hand, from the narrow summit of the awful pile.

Direct us to heaven, the wished-for home of order!
Woe to us on account of constant lamentation and grief!
When the strangers came from Dineiddyn,
Every wise man was banished the country.
In the contention with Lloegyr of various conflicts,
Nine score for every one were made prostrate.
An array of horses, harness, and silken robes,
Gwaednerth arranged conspicuously from the battle.

From the retinue of Mynyddawg that hastened
In splendid order around the store of beverage regaled they themselves,
From the banquet of Mynyddawg, my mind has become sad,
Because of those of my true kinsmen I have completely lost.
Of three hundred golden-wreathed heroes, who marched to Catraeth,
Alas! except one man none escaped.

The retinue of Gododin rode on
Swan-coloured horses with quivering manes and drooping harness,
And in front of the host, the throng descended,
In defence of his generalship, and the mead of Eiddyn,
By the advice of Mynyddawg.
The shields were moved about,
The lances fell
Upon fair brows,
While the men were languidly dropping like fruit from the tree.
They bore no reproach, men that did not skulk.

Have I not drunk mead on the march,
A banquet of wine before Catraeth as a preservative?
When he made slaughter with his unyielding lance
In the conflict, it was no inglorious sight to see where thou wert.
A monster was no frightful object to thee while effecting deliverance,
Terrible and shielded Madawg Elved.

When they fairly met, there was no escaping for life.
Dialgur of Arvon fetched bright gold at the request
Of the Brython. High-mettled were the horses of Cynon.

Llech Lleudu, and Tud Lleuvre,
The course, the course of Gododin.
A hand! a hand! a counsel! a counsel!
A tempest over the sea! a vessel from beyond sea!
The host of Heidiliawn, the host of Meidlyawn, a degenerate host,
Moving from Dindywydd.
Battered was the shield before the bull of conflict, the van was broken.

Golden-mailed warriors were there on the walls of the Caer;
Slow was the excess, but the tumult of battle was not dilatory.
One feeble man with his shouts kept away
The birds of the region, like Pelloid Mirain.
No one living will relate what happened
At Lliw, about the banks of Llwch Llivanad;
No one living will relate of any one to whom in the day of conflict
Cynaval was not equal in merit.

No achievement to-day around Neimyn!
The same covering envelopes men of the noblest descent.
A numerous host engaged in battle which is worth relating,
The son of Nwython killed of the golden-torqued ones
A hundred chieftains, as far as it is related, the vehemence
Was greater than when a hundred men went to Catraeth.
He was like a mead-fed hero with a large heart.
He was a man of hosts; energetic was he in his coat of mail,
He was a man of conflict, fierce was he on the ridge of Cavall.
No man among a thousand brave warriors
Handled a spear, or a shield, or a sword, or a dagger,
Who was a braver man than Neim the son of Nwython.

While there was a drop, they were like three lions in purpose;
In the battle three brave, prompt, active lions.
Bribon who wielded the thick lance,

Accustomed was he to defend Gododin against a hero,
In the van of battle, against vehement ones,
Accustomed was he, in the manner of Alan, to be swift;
Accustomed was he before a horde of depredators to make a descent;
Accustomed was the son of Golystan, though he was
A sovereign, to listen to what his father said;
Accustomed was he, in the interest of Mynyddawg,
          to have a perforated shield,
And a ruddy lance, before the vigorous chief of Eiddyn.

The rulers did not celebrate the praise of the holy one.
Before the attack of the numerous host, the battle was broken through.
Like a raging fire through combustibles.
On Tuesday, they put on their splendid robes;
On Wednesday, bitter was their assembly;
On Thursday, messengers formed contracts;
On Friday, there were carnage and contusion;
On Saturday, they dealt mutual blows;
On Sunday, they were pierced by ruddy weapons;
On Monday, a pool of blood, knee-deep, was seen.
The Gododin, after tedious toil, cannot relate it.
Before the tents of Madawg after the return.

A grievous descent was made in front of the hoarded riches;
The first to chase them was a person renowned for activity;—
Gwannannon, honoured in the mead banquet, whose prowess I will extol;
And next to him the brave-minded and heroic
Eithinyn the renowned, the son of Bodw.

Men of excess went with them,
Who had been revelling in wine and mead,
In the banquet of Mynyddawg.
We are greatly grieved at the loss
Of a man of such terrible energy;
Like thunder from heaven was the clashing of his shield,
From the agitation caused by Eithinyn;

Swift and heroic he was when at early dawn
He would arise to lead his band;
But whether leading or following
Before a hundred he stood prominent.
He was so disposed to (assault) them,
As to drink mead or wine;
He was so unsparing,
When he transfixed the foes,
And forward was his course towards them.

Rapidly and heroically with the dawn they marched
To the conflict, with the commander in front of the course;
Gwair was greeted by the fluid gore
In the van of the battle;
He was a beloved friend
In the day of distress.
The defence of the mountain, the place,
And the forward beam of war, wore a murky hue.

His lances were seen among the hosts
Vigorously employed for mutual defence against the foe;
Before the din of his shields they concealed themselves,
They lay hid before Eiddyn, the lofty hill;
And of as many as he found none returned;
Of him the truth is related and sung:
Obstinately would he pierce armour, when he caused a trembling;
And he whom he pierced, would not be pierced again.
Repeated are the lamentations that his presents are gone;
His friends were as numerous as bees;
And before he was covered under the sward of the earth,
He caused the mead to flow.

(Five lines untranslated.)

The Gododin will not relate at the early dawn
Of any to whom Cynaval was not equal.

Blade weapons, broad and ruddy, were abundant before he was covered,
The hero who filled the plain with slaughtered men.
He was a joyous chief, an unflinching wolf-like hero, a firm wolf
In the camp, with a submissive retinue blessing him;
Before he was arrested, he was not feeble.
Perfect art thou called from thy righteous deed;
Leader, director, and bulwark of all that are of the same language,
Tudvwlch, the subduer in battle, the destroyer of Caers.

The slayer of hosts is gone to the black glebe:
A piece of earth has made
Sweet bitter to the people.
Withered leaves are driven too and fro on his patrimony;
It was not for the advantage of the country that the sod (should cover him);
The bull of conflict never retreated the width of an acre.
Sad is the fate that it should thus be!

He pierced upwards of three hundred of the foe,
He slaughtered the centre and the extreme;
He was worthy to be at the head of an army, most gentle;
He fed his horses upon barley in winter.
Black ravens croaked on the wall
Of the beautiful Caer. He was an Arthur
In the midst of the exhausting conflict,
In the assault in the pass, like Gwernor the hero.

I ought to sing to Cynon with the flesh-spears:
In action, and before the desolating spears of Aeron,
His hand was reckoned at the head of hoary heroes.
To me was distributed the best fare among the daring ones,
To the advantage of Mynyddawg, knight of the people,
He appointed me to harass the enemy
On Catraeth, where the golden-torqued heroes were loquacious.
They pierced and slaughtered those who stood before them;
Whelps committed ravages about their territories.
There was scarcely in the lists, on the part of the Brython,
At Gododin, from a distance a man better than Cenon.

It is incumbent on me to celebrate the complete acquisition
Of our warriors, who around Catraeth made a tumultuous rout,
With confusion, and blood, and treading, and trampling,
Where valour was trampled, and vengeance taken
          because of the contribution of mead.
As to the carnage of the combatants,
Cibno does not relate after the excitement of battle.
Since, he has received the communion he shall be interred.

Birds were allured (untranslated).

(One line untranslated.)

He put on gold before the battle-shout, in the front
          rank of the accomplished heroes.

(Three lines untranslated.)

Cibno the son of Gwengad had a long and splendid retinue.

I owe a complete song to the dog of Gwerunyd.
Let joy be in the chamber.

	This edition © Ogmios Press 2002 (all rights reserved) Original copy published in W.F. Skene The Four Ancient Books of Wales, Vol.1 (Edinburgh: Edmonston & Douglas, 1868).
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