The Gododdin
Page 5
on the long-legged grey,
harness and saddle
adorned with gold.
The brave man in his cell
gnaws on a buck’s leg.
Food in his hand.
It won’t come again.
54
Da ddofod, Addonwy, a’m addawsud:
A wnelai Fradwen gwnelud; lladdud, llosgud,
No Morien ni waeth wnelud.
Ni chedwaist nac eithaf na chynnor.
Ysgwn ddrem ddibennor
Ni welaist ymorchwydd mawr marchogion:
Wy lleddyn, ni roddyn nawdd i Saeson.
Addonwy
54
Addonwy, you swore great deeds,
as Bradwen did; you burnt, slaughtered,
as fierce as Morien; with your clear eye
never lost sight of wing or van;
your surging furious horsemen
gave not an inch to the Saxon.
55
Cywyrain cedwyr, cyfarfuant,
I gyd yn un fryd yd gyrchasant.
Byr eu hoedl, hir eu hoed ar eu carant,
Saith gymaint o Loegrwys a laddasant.
O gyfrysedd gwragedd gwyddw a wnaethant,
Llawer mam a’i deigr ar ei hamrant.
56
O winfaeth a meddfaeth ydd aethant i gennyn,
Llurugogion, neus gwn llaith letgynt.
Cyn llwydedd eu lleas dyddarfu,
Rhag Catraeth oedd ffraeth eu llu.
O osgordd Fynyddog, fawr dru,
O drychant, namyn un gŵr ni ddyfu.
57
O winfaeth a meddfaeth yd grysiasant,
Gwŷr yn rhaid, molaid, enaid ddichwant.
Gloyw ddull i am droll yd gydfaethant,
Gwin a medd a mall a amucsant.
O osgordd Fynyddog handwyf adfeilliog,
A rhwy a gollais o’m gwir garant.
O drychan rhiallu yd grysiasant Gatraeth,
Tru, namyn un gŵr nid atgorsant.
Tears
55
The warriors rose, assembled
as one man, attacked.
Their lives were brief.
Love’s grieving long.
They slew the Saxon
seven times their number,
made widows of their wives,
brought tears to many mothers’ eyes.
56
After the wine and mead-feast they were away,
armed and ready; I know death’s sorrow,
slaughtered before their hair grew grey.
Before Catraeth, the pack was swift.
Loud the lament for Mynyddawg’s men.
Of three hundred, one came back.
57
After the mead-feast they raced to fight,
famous, reckless of their fate.
They’d feasted together, brightly clad,
passed the wine, the malt and the mead.
I mourn Mynyddawg’s men,
my brothers, gone.
All marched to Catraeth, every one.
Of three hundred, one came home.
58
Hu byddai yng nghywyre yn bresent
Mal pêl ar ry-re,
Hu byddai oni fai atre.
Hud amug Ododdin
Win a medd yn niedyng
Yng ystryng ystre,
Ac o dan Gadfannan cochre feirch,
Marchog godrudd ym more.
Cadfannan
58
In the hosting he was still
lively as a bouncing ball,
– so he would be until retreat, while
men of the Gododdin feasted
in the hall on wine and mead,
fired for battle on the border,
at dawn Cadfannan rode to war
fearless on a sorrel horse.
59
Angor, Dewr daen,
Sarff saffwy graen,
Sengi wrmgaen
Ym mlaen byddin.
Arth arwynawl,
Drwsiad dreisiawr,
Sengi waywawr
Yn nydd cadiawr
Yng nghlawdd gwernin.
Ail Neddig nâr,
Neus dug trwy far
Gwledd i adar
O drydar drin.
Cywir y’th elwir o’th gywir weithred
Rector, rhwyfiadur, mur cadfiled,
Merin am Madiain, mad y’th aned.
60
Angor, Dewr daen,
Anysgogfaen
Ym mlaen byddin.
Lledrudd llewyr,
A meirch a gwŷr,
Rhag Gododdin.
Re cŵn cyfarth,
Cyfwyrain barth,
Cymre tawd tarth
Rhag garth Merin.
Merin
59
Anchor, Deiron breaker,
poisonous snake,
broke blue-dark armour
in the front rank.
Brutal bear,
grim gate-keeper,
he trampled spears
in a ditch of alders.
A second Neddig,
raging he made
blood-feast for crows
from the bedlam of battle.
Named ruler,
battle-wall, bastion,
Merin son of Madiain,
blessed your birth.
60
Anchor, Deiron disperser,
standing-stone at the army’s head.
Bleeding bodies, men and horses
before Gododdin; baying dogs;
In the fog of war a mustering force,
Merin, rock, warhorse.
61
Angor, Dewr daen,
Sarff saffwy graen,
Ansgogedfaen
Ym mlaen byddin.
Arial arlwy,
Trais tra chymwy,
Yn rhwy gobrwy
Gorddwy läin.
Cywir y’th elwir o’th gywir weithred
Rector, rhwyfiadur, mur pob cyfiaith,
Tudfwlch, treisig aer, caer o ddylaith.
62
Llafnawr lledrudd,
Llawr gyfachludd,
Gwron gworudd ym maran;
Llawrwr, lleiddiad,
Llawen fyddad,
Stadal fleiddiad, blaidd cyman;
Lluarth teulu,
Llawr yn lladdu,
Cyn no’i ddallu ni bu gwan.
Cywir y’th elwir o’th gywir wraith
Rector, llywiadur, mur pob cyfiaith,
Tudfwlch, treisig aer, caer o ddylaith.
Tudfwlch
61
Anchor, Deiron scatterer,
venomous viper,
at the head of the army,
a steady rock.
Storehouse of stamina,
power past pain.
We praise your skill,
thruster of spears.
Famous in action,
lord and leader,
the people’s buttress,
Tudfwlch, citadel, soldier
62
Ground drowned
in blood and blades,
a war-gored hero,
champion, slayer.
Glad defender,
wolf of the pack,
the soldiers’ shield,
no holding back before your blinding.
Justly named
ruler, helmsman,
the patriot’s harbour,
Tudfwlch, safe haven.
63
Erddlyedaf canu cyman caffad:
Ein cedwyr am Gatraeth ry-wnaeth brithred,
Brithwe adwyar sathar sanged.
Sengid gwŷdd gẃnedd,
Dial am dâl medd,
O galanedd cyfrynged.
Nis adrawdd Cibno gwedi cyffro cad,
Cyfai cymun iddo, ceffi daered.
Cibno
63
A rousing rhyme for a brave war band,
they sang on the march to Catraeth.
Clothes blood-soaked, trees
trampled
and trashed,
they paid for their mead
with bodies of the dead.
Cibno, wordless when war was done,
took communion on his return.
64
Arddyledog ganu cyman ofri:
Twrf tân a tharan a rhyferthi.
Gwryd ardderchog, marchog mysgi,
Rhuddfedel, rhyfel a eidduni.
Gŵr gẃnedd difuddiog difyngi i gad
O’r maint gwlad ydd i clywi.
A’i ysgwyd ar ei ysgwydd hud arfolli woyw
Mal gwin gloyw o wydrlestri.
Ariant am ei fedd, aur dylyi;
Gwinfaeth oedd Waednerth fab Llywri.
Gwaednerth
64
A rousing rhyme for a bold war band,
sounding fire, flood and thunder.
Horseman in the moil and mire,
reaper of blood and thirsty for more,
recklessly raced to any shore
at a whispered rumour of war.
Shield shouldered, spear upraised
as a wine-filled, gleaming cup.
Silver his mead, gold his fee,
wine-fed Gwaednerth, son of Llywri.
65
Erddlyedaf canu claer orchyrddon:
A chyn bu difant dylaith Aeron
Rhifesid ei loflen pen eryron llwyd;
Yn annwyd gworeu bwyd i sglyfon.
Ar les Mynyddog, marchog maon,
Ef dodes ei du ar wayw galon.
Ar Gatraeth oedd ffraeth eurdorchogion,
Wy gwenynt, lleddynt seifogion,
Oedd ech eu tymyr trais ganaon.
Oedd odid ym mid o barth Brython
Gododdin o bell gwell no Chynon.
Cynon
65
A rousing rhyme for a bright war-band,
before the guardian of Aeron was slain,
beaks of grey eagles pecked from his hand;
his fury fed flesh to birds of prey.
Of all the gold-torqued men that day
riding to Catraeth on Mynyddawg’s
way, not one of the Britons of Gododdin
more cunning in war than Cynon.
66
Erddlyedaf canu cyman cywraint:
Llawen llogell byd, bu diddichwant.
Hu mynnai yng nghylch byd eidol anant
Er aur a meirch mawr, a medd feddwaint,
Namyn yn y delai o fid hoffeint
Cynddilig Aeron wŷr nofant.
Cynddilig Aeron
66
A rousing rhyme for war-bound men
in the genial small world of a hall.
He yearned the praise of poets,
revelry, horses, gold and wine,
praise after war, should he return,
by bloodstained men for Cynddilig Aeron.
67
Arddyledog ganu claer orchyrddon
Ar neges Mynyddog, mynog maon,
A merch Eudaf Hir, drais Gwanannon,
Oedd borffor wisgiadur, dir amdrychion.
68
Ni phorthynt feiri molud nyfed
Rhag trin riallu, trin orthorred,
Tebyg tân terydd trwy gyneued.
Diw Mawrth gwisgasant eu cain dudded,
Diw Merchyr bu chwerw eu cyduned,
Difiau cenhadau amoded,
Diw Gwener calanedd cyfrifed,
Diw Sadwrn bu difwrn eu cydweithred,
Diw Sul llafnau rhudd a adranned,
Diw Llun hyd hen clun gwaedlin gweled.
Neus adrawdd Gododdin gwedi lludded
Rhag pebyll Madog pan atgoried
Namyn un gŵr o gant ni ddeled.
Mynyddog
67
A rousing rhyme for a bright-clad band,
a song for Mynyddog, lord of hosts,
a song for the daughter of Eudaf Hir,
Gwanannon’s foe, rich-purple-dressed
in a wounded land.
68
The rowdy hall made the stewards flinch
as men were roused to wrangle and brawl,
fuelled by mead.
On Tuesday, they put on dark blue armour.
On Wednesday, white-limed their shields for war.
On Thursday, agreed their battle plan.
On Friday, they counted the dead.
On Saturday they fought as one.
On Sunday they raised red blades.
On Monday they waded in blood.
Exhausted men of Gododdin told,
in Madog’s tent, on their return,
but one in a hundred would come home.
69
Moch arwyraith ym more
I gynnif â pheryf rhag stre,
Bu cyfarth weirwiad
Yng nghynnor cad,
Cyfaill argarad
Yn yd gre.
Bu golud, mynud, bu lle,
Bu gwanar gweilging gwrmdde.
70
Moch arwyraith ym meitin
Pan grys cynrain ym myddin,
O dywys yn nhywys yn dilin,
Rhag cant ef gwant gysefin.
Oedd garw y gwnaewch chwi waedlin,
Mal yfed medd trwy chwerthin;
Oedd llew y lladdewch chwi ddynin,
Cleddyfal dywal ffysgiolin.
Oedd mor ddiachar
Yd laddai esgar
Gwrhafal ym myddin.
Gwrhafal
69
Rising early in the morning
to fight a chief where rivers meet,
in the battle-van
a bitter enemy,
a dear comrade
where he loved.
He was steadfast, courteous, grave,
his soldiers’ hawk of war.
70
Rising early in the morning,
soldiers raced to the battle front.
Taking one track then another,
he led his men to war.
Downing his mead, he’d laugh,
then face the foe. Blood flowed
as like a lion he killed,
fierce, swift and bold.
Pitiless, he slew the enemy,
Gwrhafal in the army.
71
Disgynnwys yn affwys dra phen,
Ni ddeliyd cywyd cywrennin ben,
Dysgïawr braint fu ei ladd ar gangen.
Cynneddf i Ywain ar ystre esgyn,
Ystwng cyn gorod gorau gangen,
Dylud dilain, cathlau ddilen …
Dysgïawr pan fai bun barn ben,
Perchen meirch a gwrmseirch ac ysgwydawr iäen,
Gogyfoed gogyfergyr, esgyn, disgyn.
72
Aer dywys, rydywys ryfel,
Gwlatgordd garai gwrddfedel.
Gwyrdd weryd gwaed am irfedd,
Seirchiawr am ei rudd yd fedd.
Seingiad am seirch, seirch seingiad,
Ar ddelw llaith dygïawr lludded.
Peleidr yn ais yn nechrau cad,
Hynt am leu bu goddeu peleidriad.
73
Ceint amnad am ddifa dy gell
Ac ystafell yd fyddad.
Dyrllyddai medd melys maglawr,
Gwrŷs aergynglys gan wawr,
Ced lwys Lloegrwys liwedawr,
Rhy benyd ar hyd ydd atawr.
Aillt Wynedd clywer ei ardderchedd,
Gwanannon bid fedd.
Safwy cadafwy Gwynedd,
Tarw byddin, trais trin tëyrnedd
Cyn cywest daear, cyn gorwedd:
Bid orffin Gododdin bedd.
74
Byddin orddyfnad yn agerw,
Mynog lluyddog llawchwerw,
Bu doeth a choeth a syberw,
Nid oedd ef wrth gyfedd gochwerw,
Mudyn geinion ar ei helw,
Nid oedd ar lles bro Pobddelw.
A’n gelwir or a chynnor ym mhlymnwyd
Yn nhryfrwyd peleidr, peleidr gogymwyd.
Goglysur heyrn llifaid llawr yn arswyd,
Sychyn yng ngorun, yn nhrydar,
Gŵr ffrwythlon fflamddur
rhag esgar.
Owain
71
Headlong he fell into the depths,
leader, his promise lost.
Oh, bitter wrong his spear-death.
Owain would mount in border-land,
bend his best spear, lie low and long
for the fight. I lament his loss in song.
Shy with a girl, fine horseman
with shield and spear, armour blue-black,
warriors at his side, in retreat, attack.
72
Battle-leader, first to the war.
The people adored him, great reaper.
Blood on the grass and a fresh grave,
his clothes crimson beneath his armour.
Trampler of steel, steel-trampled.
Weariness descends like death.
Spears splintered at the action’s start,
spears thrust to clear their path.
73
I sang a rhyme of wrecking your room