Arth yn llwrw, byth hwyr y techai.
Blaen
17
Blaen, first out from splendid Eidyn’s fort,
in his men he fired trust.
Regally reclined in goosedown,
he passed the drinking horn.
Blaen’s was the first brew of bragget,
first pick of purple and gold,
Blaen’s the first choice of the swiftest horse,
and at the rallying battle-cry
Blaen was the first to ride to war,
and, like a bear, the last to flee.
18
Anawr gynhorfan,
Huan ar wyran.
Gwledig cwdd gyngain
Nef Ynys Brydain?
Garw rhyd rhag rhyn,
Aes i lwrw buddyn.
Bual oedd arwyn
Yng nghyntedd Eidyn.
Ei riydd rhyodres,
Ei fedd meddwawd,
Yfai win wirawd.
Oedd erfid fedel,
Yfai win gofel.
Aerfaidd yn arfedd,
Aer gennin fedel.
Aer adan glaer,
Cenyn gywydd aer.
Aer seirchiog,
Aer edenog,
Nid oedd dirf ei ysgwyd
Gan waywawr plymnwyd.
Cwyddyn gyfoedion
Yng nghad blymnwyd.
Diesig ei ddias,
Difefl as talas.
Huddid ei wyllias
Cyn bu clawr glas
Bedd Gwrwelling fras.
Gwrfelling
18
Power in the front line,
sunlight on the grass.
Where will we find him,
prince of Britain, our paradise?
Rushing the ford
behind his shield.
Raising his drinking horn
in the hall of Eidyn,
famous, glorious,
heady with mead,
fuelled by wine,
reaper in the field.
He took sweet liquor,
his mind on war,
plucked a leek to wear,
bright badge of the tribe,
warbled a war-call,
rode braced into battle.
Winged for the field,
with spear-scored shield,
as his brothers fell,
his war-cry a bell,
he brought guts to the brawl,
his vengeance quelled,
until green grew the grass
on the grave of Gwrfelling Fras.
19
Teithi edmygant,
Tri llwry nofant,
Pymwnt a phymcant.
Trychwn a thrychant,
Tri chadfarchog
Eidyn euruchog,
Tri llu llurugog,
Tri aur deyrn dorchog,
Tri marchog dywal,
Tri chadgyhafal,
Tri chyfnaid cyfnar
Chwerw ffysgynt esgar.
Tri yn nhrin yn drwm,
Llew lleddynt blwm,
Aur yng nghad gyngrwn,
Tri theyrn maon,
A ddyfu o Frython,
Cynri a Chynon,
Cynrain o Aeron.
Gogyferchi ynnon,
Deifr diferogion,
A ddyfu o Frython
Ŵr well no Chynon,
Sarff seri alon?
Cynon
19
They are thrice honoured:
three bloody spears.
Five tens, five hundred.
Three hounds, three hundred,
three war-horse riders
from Eidyn’s gold.
Three mail-clad soldiers,
three gold-torqued kings,
three unbroken stallions.
Three equal in the brawl,
three leaping as one
to slaughter the foe.
Three in a tight fight,
three lions to the kill,
gold in the ruck.
Who were born Britons?
Cynri and Cynon,
Cynrain of Aeron.
Ask tribes of sly Deirons:
‘Was there a Briton greater than Cynon,
snake on the enemy’s path?’
20
Yfais i win a medd ym mordai.
Mawr maint ei fehyr
Yng nghyfarfod gwŷr,
Bwyd i eryr erysmygai.
Pan grysiai Gydywal dwyreai awr
Gan wyrdd wawr cyfi doddai,
Aesawr dellt annibellt adawai.
Parau rhyn rhwygiad
Dygymynai yng nghad,
Blaen bragad briwai.
Mab Sywno, sywiedydd a’i gwyddiai,
A werthws ei enaid
Er wyneb grybwylliaid.
llafn llifaid lladdai,
Lleddesid ac Athrwys ac Affrai.
Er amod arfod arfaethai,
Ermygai galanedd
O wŷr gwychyr gẃnedd,
Ym mlaen Gwynedd gwanai.
Cydywal
20
In the hall he drank his share.
On the field with spears to spare
he fed the eagles human flesh.
In the green glow of an eastern dawn
Cydywal answered the call to war,
splintering shields. His spear alone
tore through the front row.
Son of Swyno, a seer foretold –
died for his honour, to be called a
hero, killed Athrwys and Affrai
with his own sword.
True to his word,
he stormed Gwynedd’s front row,
made meat of the foe.
21
Yfaist ti win a medd ym mordai:
Can yfaist, disgynnaist ran ffin, ffawd ud,
Nid didrachywedd colwedd ddrud,
Pan esgynnai pawb ti ddisgynnud.
Cyfai gwin gwaed meirw maint a wanud
Tair blynedd a phedair meddud:
Yn fawr i’th faer as cymyrrud.
A’th fo di gwas nyf gwerth na thechud:
Present gyfadrawdd oedd Breichiawl glud.
Breichiawl
21
You drank mead and wine in the hall,
then, fired up, you charged the border.
Strong-hearted, bold,
when you attacked, the enemy fled.
Were blood of the dead turned to wine,
it would last three years or four,
your steward’s work done.
You gave no ground. May heaven do well
by you, the famous, brave Breichiawl.
22
Gwŷr a aeth Gatraeth, buant enwawg:
Gwin a medd o aur fu eu gwirawd
Blwyddyn yn erbyn urddyn ddefawd,
Trywyr a thri ugaint a thrychant eurdorchawg.
O’r sawl yd grysiasant uch gormant wirawd
Ni ddiengis namyn tri o wrhydri ffosawd,
Dau gatgi Aeron a Chynon daerawd,
A minnau o’m gwaetffrau gwerth fy ngwenwawd.
Aeron and Cynon
22
Men rode to Catraeth. Theirs the fame,
three hundred and sixty gold-torqued men
drank mead and wine for a year
from golden cups, as was the custom.
Of those who rushed in, too much drink taken,
just three survived the killing field,
two dogs of war, Aeron and Cynon,
and I, the bloodstained poet, for my song.
23
Fy nghâr yng ngwirwar ni’n gogyffrawd
Oni bai o gŵyn dragon durawd.
Ni ddidolid yng nghyntedd o fedd gwirawd,
Ef gwnâi ar beithing beithing arfodiawg,
Ef disgrain yng nghad, disgrain yn aelawd.
Nis adrawdd Gododdin gwedi ffosawd
Pan fai no Llifiau llymach nebawd.
24
Pan gyrchai yng nghywlad ei glod oedd anfonawg,
Ef dilyddai win, gŵr eurdorchawg.
&nb
sp; Ef rhoddai gloyw ddull glân i wychiawg,
Ardwyai can ŵr arwr mynawg,
Anfonawg eisyllud, alltud farchawg,
Un maban i Gian o dra Bannawg.
Nis adrawdd Gododdin ar glawr ffosawd
Pan fai no Llif llymach nebawd.
Llif
23
Cousin, comrade, stood fast in war,
though he swayed, drunk, at the dragon’s feast,
at court he never lacked for mead,
before he slaughtered with his sword.
Daring in war,
firm against fear,
men of Gododdin home on leave
report no fighter more fierce than Llif.
24
In border country they knew his story,
gold-torqued soldier, paid in mead.
They glowed in the glass of his glory,
three hundred men in his company.
From over the border, nobleman, horseman
from beyond Bannog, Cian’s only son.
While at the front, the Gododdin told,
no braver man than Llif was killed.
25
Arf anghynnull, anghyman ddull, anghysgoged,
Trachywedd fawr, treiglesyd llawr Lloegrwys giwed,
Heesid ais yng nghynnor trais yng nghad ferau,
Gorug wŷr llyddw a gwragedd gwyddw cyn no’i angau,
Graid fab Hoywgi rhag ysberi ryberi crau.
Graid
25
Weapons scattered, ranks awry,
he savaged the Saxon soldiery,
placed a palisade of lances as a wall
stabbed in the ground before the brawl.
Until he fell he took men’s lives,
he made widows of their wives,
behind the barricade he died,
son of Hoywgi, Graid.
26
Arwr ardwy ysgwyd o dan ei dalfrith
Ac ail tith orwyddan,
Bu trydar yn aerfre, bu tân,
Bu ehud ei waewawr, bu huan,
Bu bwyd i frain, bu budd i frân,
A chyn edewid yn rhydon,
Gan wlith, eryr tith tirion,
Ac o du gwasgar gwaneg tu bron,
Beirdd byd barnant ŵr o galon.
Diebyrth ei gerth ei gyngyr,
Difa oedd ei gynrain gan wŷr,
A chyn ei olo o dan Eleirch Fre –
Ydoedd wryd yn ei arch –
Gorolches ei grau ei seirch,
Buddfan fab Bleiddfan ddihafarch.
Buddfan
26
Hero, his brow freckled behind his shield,
he moved with a stallion’s stride,
a war-whoop on the slope, a burning blade.
His spear was lightning. He fed carrion
to the crow, men’s flesh to ravens.
Until he fell at the ford
in the falling dew, eagle of grace,
by the cliff in the spindrift of waves,
the world’s poets named him brave,
unbeaten in the battle place.
Betrayed, he died beside his men,
strong until laid in his grave
under Eleirch Fre, his armour bathed
in enemy blood, son of Bleiddfan,
Buddfan the brave.
27
Cam ei adaw heb gof, camp ehelaeth:
Nid adawai adwy er adwriaeth.
Nid edewis ei lys les cerddwriaeth
Ddyw Calan Ionawr yn ei arfaeth.
Nid erddid ei dir cyfai diffaith,
Dra chas anïas ddraig ehelaeth,
Dragon yng ngwyar gwedi gwinfaeth,
Gwenabwy fab Gwen, gynnen Gatraeth.
Gwenabwy
27
Wrong to leave his part unpraised:
he fled no enemy breach in fear;
his minstrels never went unpaid;
tipped generously at the New Year.
His land untilled, but not laid waste;
a dragon in the bitterest brawl;
a warrior-prince after the feast,
Gwen’s son, Gwenabwy, in Catraeth’s war.
28
Bu gwir mal amceuddai Gadlew,
Ni ddeliis meirch neb Marchlew.
Heesid waywawr yng nglyw
I ar llemenig llwybrdew.
Cyn ni faged am fyrn, am borth,
Dywal ei gleddyfal yn ei orth.
Heesid onn o bedryollt ei law
I ar feiniell fygedorth.
Yd rannai rhygu ei rywin,
Yd laddai â llafn fraith oeithin.
Fal pan fêl medel ar freithin
Y gwnâi Farchlew waedlin.
Marchlew
28
As Cadlew told,
no horseman outraced Marchlew.
He thrust spears in battle
from astride his horse, fettle
though no heavy-weight,
his steel slicing in the fight.
Stabbing spears into the ground
from astride his steaming stallion,
flushed with wine and blushed with blood,
he thrashed with his bright blade
and as a reaper till the weather turned
cut down the foe before he died.
29
Isag anfonog o barth Dehau,
Tebyg môr lliant ei ddefodau
O wyledd a llariedd
A chain yfed medd.
Men yd glawdd ei offer ei bwyth maddau,
Ni bu hyll dihyll na heu dihau.
Seiniesyd ei gleddyf ym mhen mamau,
Mur graid, oedd molaid ef mab Gwyddnau.
Isag
29
Isag, esteemed man of the south, his
manners smooth as summer seas,
genial, generous
as the flowing mead.
No comeback when he thrust his sword
with his steady hand and eye.
His blade cried in mothers’ hearts.
Battle-wall, hailed son of Gwyddnau.
30
Ceredig caradwy ei glod,
Achubai, gwarchadwai nod.
Lledfegin, ys tawel cyn dyfod ei ddydd,
Gowychydd ei wybod;
Ys deupo câr cyrdd cyfnod
Yng ngwlad nef, addef adnabod.
31
Ceredig caradwy gynran,
Ceimiad yng nghad gofaran,
Ysgwyd eurgrwydr cadlan,
Gwaewawr uswydd anghyfan,
Cleddyfal dywal diwan,
Mal gŵr cadwai wyalfan.
Cyn cystudd daear, cyn affan,
O ddaffar diffynnai ei fan.
Ys deupo cynnwys yng nghyman
Can Drindod yn undod gyfan.
Ceredig
30
Ceredig, celebrated, famed,
loved life dearly, as his name tells –
favoured, favourite, till his day came.
Quiet and courteous,
may he who loved song find his place
at home in Paradise.
31
Ceredig, dear chieftain,
a hero on the field,
his gold-fretted shield
split spears to smithereens.
His sword-stroke strong and sound,
he stood a man’s ground
until grief came, and agony.
Heaven, unite him with the Trinity.
32
Pan grysiai Garadog i gad,
Mal baedd coed, trychwn drychiad,
Tarw byddin, yn nhrin gomyniad,
Ef llithiai wyddgwn o’i angad:
Ys fy nhyst Ywain fab Eulad
A Gwrien a Gwyn a Gwriad.
O Gatraeth, o gymynad,
O Fryn Hyddwn cyn caffad,
Gwedi medd gloyw ar angad
Ni weles yr un ei dad.
33
Gwŷr a grysiasant, buant gydnaid,
Hoedlfyrion, meddwon uch medd hidlaid,
Gosgordd Fynyddog, enwog yn rhaid,
Gwerth eu gwledd o fedd fu eu henai
d:
Caradog a Madog, Pyll ac Ieuan,
Gwgon a Gwion, Gwyn a Chynfan,
Peredur Arfau Dur, Gwawrddur ac Aeddan,
Achubiaid yng ngawr, ysgwydawr anghyfan.
A chyd lleseint, wy lladdasan;
Neb i eu tymyr nid atgorsan.
Caradog
32
When Caradog charged to war
gored three men like a wild boar,
bull of the army, war machine,
he hand-fed the wolves. Owain
son of Eulad was my witness,
before they were gone from Catraeth,
from the slaughter at Bryn Hyddwn,
Gwrien and Gwriad and Gwyn,
after much gold mead taken,
none saw his father again.
33
Soldiers stormed, fired up by mead,
Mynyddawg’s men, as one they died.
Famous in the war, they paid
for all-night feasting with their lives.
Caradog, Madog, Pwll and Ieuan,
Gwgon, Gwiawn, Gwyn and Cynfan,
steel-armed Peredur,
The Gododdin Page 3
