Y Gododin: A Poem of the Battle of Cattraeth - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel Y Gododin: A Poem of the Battle of Cattraeth Part 8 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
XCVI.
Am drynnv drylav drylen Am lwys am diffwys dywarchen Trihuc baruaut dreis dili plec hen Atguuc emorem ae guiau hem Hancai ureuer uragdenn At gwyr a gwydyl a phrydein At gu kelein rein rud guen Deheuec gwenauwy mab gwen
XCVII.
Am giniav drylav drylen Trym dwys tra diffwys dywarchen Kemp e lumen arwr baruawt asgell Vreith edrych eidyn a breith.e.l.l Goruchyd y lav loften Ar gynt a gwydyl a phryden A chynhyo mwng bleid heb pren Eny law gnavt gwychlaut ene lenn Prytwyf ny bei marw morem Deheuec gwenabwy mab gwen
THE G.o.dODIN.
I.
He was a man in mind, in years a youth, {79a} And gallant in the din of war; Fleet, thick-maned chargers {79b} Were ridden {79c} by the ill.u.s.trious hero; A s.h.i.+eld, light and broad, Hung on the flank of his swift and slender steed; His sword was blue and gleaming, His spurs were of gold, {80a} his raiment was woollen. {80b} It will not be my part To speak of thee reproachfully, A more choice act of mine will be To celebrate thy praise in song; Thou hast gone to a b.l.o.o.d.y bier, Sooner than to a nuptial feast; {80c} Thou hast become a meal for ravens, Ere thou didst reach the front of conflict. {80d} Alas, Owain! my beloved friend; It is not meet that he should be devoured by ravens! {81a} There is swelling sorrow {82a} in the plain, Where fell in death the only son of Marro.
II.
Adorned with his wreath, leader of rustic warriors, {82b} whenever he came By his troop unattended, {83a} before maidens would he serve the mead; But the front of his s.h.i.+eld would be pierced, {83b} if ever he heard The shout of war; no quarter would he give to those whom he pursued; Nor would he retreat from the combat until blood flowed; And he cut down like rushes {83c} the men who would not yield.
The G.o.dodin relates, that on the coast of Mordei, {84a} Before the tents of Madog, when he returned, But one man in a hundred with him came. {84b}
III.
Adorned with his wreath, the chief of toil, his country's rod {84c} of power, Darted like an eagle {84d} to our harbours, {84e} when allured To the compact {85a} that had been formed; his ensign was beloved, {85b} More n.o.bly was his emblazoned resolution {85c} performed, for he retreated not, With a shrinking mind, {85d} before the host of G.o.dodin.
Manawyd, {85e} with confidence and strength thou pressest upon the tumultuous fight, Nor dost thou regard {86a} either spear or s.h.i.+eld; No habitation rich in dainties can be found, That has been kept out of the reach of thy warriors' charge. {86b}
IV.
Adorned with a wreath was the leader, {87a} the wolf {87b} of the holme, Amber beads {87c} in ringlets encircled his temples; {87d} Precious was the amber, worth a banquet of wine. {87e} He repelled the violence of men, as they glided along; For Venedotia and the North would have come to his share, By the advice of the son of Ysgyran, {88a} The hero of the broken s.h.i.+eld. {88b}
V.
Adorned with his wreath was the leader, and armed in the noisy conflict; Chief object of observation {88c} was the hero, and powerful in the gory field, Chief fighter {88d} in the advanced division, in front of the hosts; Five battalions {89a} fell before his blades; Even of the men of Deivyr and Bryneich, {89b} uttering groans, Twenty hundred perished in one short hour; Sooner did he feed the wolf {90a} with his carcase, than go to the nuptial feast; {90b} He sooner became the raven's prey, than approached the altar; {90c} He had not raised the spear ere his blood streamed to the ground; {90d} This was the price of mead in the hall, amidst the throng; Hyveidd Hir {90e} shall be celebrated whilst there remains a minstrel.
VI.
The heroes marched to G.o.dodin, and Gognaw laughed, {91a} But bitter were they in the battle, {91b} when they stood arranged according to their several banners; Few were the years of peace which they had enjoyed; The son of Botgad caused a throbbing by the energy of his hand; They should have gone to churches to do penance, The old and the young, the bold and the mighty; {91c} The inevitable strife of death was about to pierce them.
VII.
The heroes marched to G.o.dodin, Gwanar {92a} laughed, As his jewelled army {92b} went down {92c} to the terrific toil.
Thou slayest them with blades, when there is not much chattering; Thou, powerful supporter of the living law, producest the silence of death. {92d}
VIII.
The heroes marched to Cattraeth, loquacious was the host; Blue {93a} mead was their liquor, and it proved their poison; {93b} In marshalled array they cut through the engines of war; {93c} And after the joyful cry, silence {93d} ensued!
They should have gone to churches to perform penance; The inevitable strife of death was about to pierce them.
IX.
The heroes marched to Cattraeth, filled with mead and drunk, Compact and vigorous; {94a} I should wrong them were I to neglect their fame; Around the mighty, red, and murky blades, Obstinately and fiercely the dogs of war {94b} would fight; If I had judged you to be of the tribe of Bryneich, {94c} Not the phantom of a man would I have left alive. {94d} I lost a friend, myself being unhurt, As he openly withstood the terror of the parental chief; Magnanimously did he refuse the dowry of his father-in-law; {94e} Such was the son of Cian {95a} from the stone of Gwyngwn.
X.
The heroes marched to Cattraeth with the dawn; Their peace was disturbed by those who feared them; A hundred thousand with three hundred {95b} engaged in mutual overthrow; Drenched in gore, they marked the fall of the lances; {96a} The post of war {96b} was most manfully and with gallantry maintained, Before the retinue of Mynyddawg the Courteous. {96c}
XI.
The heroes marched to Cattraeth with the dawn; Feelingly did their relatives {96d} regret their absence; Mead they drank, yellow, sweet, ensnaring; That year is the point to which many {96e} a minstrel turns; Redder were their swords than their plumes, {97a} Their blades were white as lime, {97b} and into four parts were their helmets cloven, {97c} Even those of {97d} the retinue of Mynyddawg the Courteous.