Aeddan and Gwawrddur.
Shield-shattered fighters slew and were slain.
Not one of them came home again.
34
Gwŷr a grysiasant, buant gydfaeth,
Blwyddyn odd uch medd, mawr eu harfaeth,
Mor dru eu hadrawdd wy, angawr hiraeth,
Gwenwyn eu hadlam, nid mab mam a’u maeth.
Mor hir eu hedlid ac eu hetgyllaeth,
Yn ôl gwŷr pybyr tymyr gwinfaeth.
Gwlgod Gododdin, yn erbyn ffraeth,
Ancwyn Mynyddog enwog y’i gwnaeth,
A phrid er prynu breithell Gatraeth.
Gwlgod
34
Men partied for a year
then, fed for the fight, they rode to war.
I grieve to tell – unbearable sorrow –
their homes are bitter and childless now,
long-lamented, passionate men,
lost to those who nurtured them,
Gwlgod of Gododdin, his bequest
the famous feast.
Its price
the battle of Catraeth.
35
Gwŷr a aeth Gatraeth yng nghad, yng ngawr,
Nerth meirch a gwrmseirch ac ysgwydawr,
Peleidr ar gychwyn a llym waywawr,
A llurugau claer a chleddyfawr.
Rhagorai, tyllai trwy fyddinawr,
Cwyddai bum pymwnt rhag ei lafnawr:
Rhufon Hir, ef rhoddai aur i allawr,
A ched a choelfain cain i gerddawr.
Rhufon Hir
35
Men rode to Catraeth with a rallying cry, in
blue-dark armour, their horses fleet, sharp-
pointed spear-shafts raised on high,
blades and mail-coats gleaming.
Rhufon Hir, who gave God gold,
and generously paid the bard,
sliced through the army, took the lead,
cut down five cohorts with his sword.
36
Ni wnaethpwyd neuadd mor orchynnan,
Mor fawr, mor orfawr i gyflafan:
Dyrllyddud meddud, Morien tân!
Ni thraethai na wnelai Cynon galan:
Un seirchiog, saffwyog, sôn edlydan,
Seiniesyd ei gleddyf ym mhen garthan.
Nog y cysgyg carreg fawr ei hadfan
Ni mwy gysgogid Wid fab Peithan.
Morien, Cynon, Gwid
36
Never was raised so famous a hall,
so powerful, so great the killing.
Fiery Morien earned his mead.
None doubted Cynon would count the dead,
spearsman famous for his muscle,
his sword rang above the wall.
Steady as a standing stone,
stubborn Gwid, son of Peithan.
37
Ni wnaethpwyd neuadd mor anfonog.
Oni bai Forien ail Caradog
Nid engis yn nhrwm i lwrw mynog
Dywal ddywalach no mab Fferog.
Ffêr ei law, ffaglai ffowys farchog,
Glew dias, dinas i lu ofnog.
Rhag byddin Ododdin bu wasgarog ei gylchwy,
Dan ei gymwy bu addefog.
Yn nydd gŵyth bu ystwyth, neu bwyth adfeilliog:
Dyrllyddai feddgyrn aillt Mynyddog.
Morien
37
Never was raised so great a hall
as by Morien, son of Caradog.
None more bravely joined the fray,
none more fierce than Fferawg’s boy.
A fortress for those afraid, his own
hand felled the fleeing knight.
His shield sheared ahead of the field.
He gave no ground in Gododdin’s fight.
Mynyddawg’s men had earned their feast,
fit for the day, yet the battle was lost.
38
Ni wnaethpwyd neuadd mor ddiesig …
No Chynon, lary fron, geinion wledig.
Neud ef eisteddai yn nhâl lleithig,
Y neb a wanai, nid adwenid.
Rhaglym ei waywawr,
Calchdrai, tyllai fyddinawr,
Rhagfuan ei feirch, rhagrygïawr.
Yn nydd gŵyth adwyth oedd ei lafnawr,
Pan grysiai Gynon gan wyrdd wawr.
39
Ni wnaethpwyd neuadd mor ddianaf lew …
Mor hael, baran llew, llwybr fwyaf
Chynon, lary fron, addon decaf,
Dinas i ddias ar lled eithaf,
Dôr, angor byddin, budd eiliasaf,
O’r sawl a welais ac a welaf ym myd
Ef lladdai oswydd a llafn llymaf,
Mal brwyn yd gwyddynt rhag ei adaf.
Mab Clydno clod hir, canaf it, iôr,
Glod heb or, heb eithaf.
Cynon
38
Never was built a hall more generous
than by jewelled Cynon, lord of grace.
At the table’s head he took his place.
In war, one blow, an enemy felled,
his blade keen on the battlefield,
he’d rip through armies with scored shield.
On the day of wrath, horses and men
racing ahead, his blade brought ruin
when Cynon charged in a green dawn.
39
None ever raised a hall as famous
as this by the gracious,
most blessed one,
lion-hearted Cynon.
In war, defender of the outer wing,
protector of the farthest flung,
armed for battle with blade and shield,
scythed men like rushes in a field.
I sing your unbounded praise, Cynon,
son of Clydon.
40
Disgynsid yn nhrwm, yng nghysefin,
Ef diodes gormes, ef dodes ffin.
Ergyrwayw riau, rhyfel chwerthin,
Hud effyd ei wryd i lwrw Elffin,
Eithinyn folaid, mur graid, tarw trin.
41
Disgynsid yn nhrwm, yng nghysefin,
Gwerth medd yng nghyntedd a gwirod win.
Heesid ei lafnawr rhwng dwy fyddin,
Ardderchog farchog rhag Gododdin,
Eithinyn folaid, mur graid, tarw trin.
42
Disgynsid yn nhrwm rhag dwyrain alaf,
Cynhebyg i gelew: erydmygaf.
Gwanannon gwerth medd, gwryd fwyaf,
A gwych ffodiog, gwychog hynaf,
Eithinyn folaid mab Boddw Adaf.
43
Gwŷr gormant aethant cennyn,
Gwinfaith a meddfaith oeddyn.
O ancwyn Mynyddog
Handwyf cymrwynog
O goll gŵr gẃnedd rhyn.
Mal taranawr
Ef tarddai sgwydawr
Rhag rhynnawdd Eithinyn.
Eithinyn
40
He led the attack from the fore,
repelled the foe and set the line,
a lord fearless to war.
As brave as Elffin,
famous Eithinyn,
battle-wall, wild bull.
41
He led the attack from the front,
earned his wine-feast in the hall,
stabbed spears into the ground
between two armies, great horseman,
famous Eithinyn of Gododdin,
battle-wall, wild bull.
42
Before the cattle woke in the east
he leapt like a lion – I praise him
who paid dear for Gwanannon’s feast
on the battlefield, the best of men,
favourite, daring son
of Boddw Adaf, famed Eithinyn.
43
Fine men set out,
drunk on wine and mead.
At Mynyddawg’s feast
I grieve for him
lost as thunder drummed
and shields clashed
in Eithinyn’s onslaught.
44
Disgynsid yn nhrwm rhag dwyrain alafawr,
Wyre llu llaes ysgwydawr.
Ysgwydfriw rhag biw, Beli bloeddfawr,
Nâr odd uch gwyar, ffin ffestiniawr,
A’n deliid cynllwyd i ar gynhorawr,
Gorwydd gwareus, rhith rhyn, ych eurdorchawr.
Twrch gorug amod ymlaen ystre ystrywiawr,
Teilyng daith, gwrthiad gawr:
‘A’n gelwid i nef bid athleddawr ym mid!’
Ef crynid ei gadwaywawr.
Cadfannan ryorug clud, clod fawr,
Ni chynhennid na bai llu iddo llawr.
Cadfannan
44
Before the cattle rose in the east, he raced to war,
his soldiers drilled, shield-shatterer.
Weapons rang before the bellowing herd,
gold-torqued ox, mounted, grizzled warrior,
bone-headed boar at the dangerous border:
‘Lord save us who calls us to heaven,’
he roared, raising his javelin,
Cadfannan, praised soldier,
no doubting he trod armies under.
45
Am drynni drylaw drylen,
Am lwys, am ddiffwys dywarchen,
Am gwyddo gwallt i ar ben,
I am wŷr, eryr Gwyddien;
Gwyddug neus amug â’i wialen,
Dulliad, diwylliad ei berchen.
Amug Morien
Gwenwawd Myrddin a chyfrannu pen
Prif yng ngweryd â channerth a chamen.
Trywyr, er bodd bun, Bradwen:
Deuddeg, Gwenabwy fab Gwen.
Gwyddien, Morien, Bradwen,
Gwenabwy
45
For the war, the ruin, the sorrow,
for the beloved land laid waste,
for the hairs that fell from his head,
for his men, for Gwyddug,
the eagle Gwyddien
dealt his deadly blow.
Morien, protector of Myrddin,
muse of Welsh verse,
laid the chief’s head in the earth.
To a woman Bradwen was worth
three men. Worth twelve,
Gwenabwy son of Gwen.
46
Am drynni drylaw drylen,
Gweinyddiawr ysgwydawr yng ngweithien,
Yn arial cleddyfal am ben,
Yn Lloegr trychion rhag trychant unben.
A ddalwy mwng blaidd heb bren yn ei law
Gnawd gwychnawd yn ei len:
O gyfrang gŵyth ac asgen
Trengis, ni ddiengis, Bradwen.
Bradwen
46
For the war, the ruin, the sorrow,
for shattered shields, for the desolate land,
a sword-stroke to the head. In Lloegr,
men of three hundred lords laid low.
Who, unarmed, grasps a wolf by the scruff,
has a bold soul beneath his mail:
from his tryst with death, for Bradwen
there was no return.
47
Aur ar fur caer,
Crysgwyddiad claer …
Nis adrawdd a fo byw
O ddamweiniaid llyw
Odd amluch lafanad;
Nis adrawdd Gododdin yn nydd pleingiaid
Na bai Cynhafal cynheilwad.
48
Pan fuost ti cynifyn clod
Yn amwyn tywysen gorddirod,
O haeddod y’n gelwid rhyddyrch wŷr nod.
Oedd dôr ddiachor, diachor ddin drai,
Oedd mynud wrth olud a’i cyrchai,
Oedd dinas i fyddin a’i cretai:
Ni elwid gwynfyd men na bai.
Cynhafal
47
He was gold on a castle wall.
He was glorious in the brawl.
No witness lives to tell
of his courage, his counsel.
No word from Gododdin
survives the day of action.
No word that Cynhafal failed
in their hour of need.
48
When you were a famous fighter
guarding the cornland of the border,
we were named famous.
You our citadel, our fastness,
civil to all who sought your care,
a soldier’s sure fortress.
Joy died when you weren’t there.
49
Nid wyf fynog blin,
Ni ddialaf orddin,
Ni chwarddaf chwerthin
O dan droed rhonin.
Estynnog fy nglin
Yn nhŷ deyerin,
Cadwyn heyernin
Am ben fy neulin.
O fedd o fuelin,
O Gatraeth werin,
Mi na fi Neirin,
Ys gŵyr Taliesin
Ofeg gywrennin,
Neu cheint Ododdin
Cyn gwawr dydd dilin.
Aneirin’s Song
49
I am no weary warlord.
I avenge no wrong.
I sing no song
beneath a crawler’s foot.
I stretch out my knee in my earth house,
an iron chain about my knees.
For mead in the drinking horn,
for the men of Catraeth,
I, yet not I, Aneirin
– the wordsmith Taliesin knows it –
sang Y Gododdin
before the new day dawned.
50
Gwroledd Gogledd, gŵr a’i gorug,
Llary fron haeladdon ’n ei eisyllud:
Nid ymdda daear, mam nid ymddûg
Mor eirian gadam, haearn gaddug.
O nerth y cleddyf claer y’m hamug,
O garchar anwar daear y’m dug,
O gyfle angau, o angar dud,
Cenau fab Llywarch, ddihafarch ddrud.
Cenau
50
Northern grit: owned by one man.
His nature generous, glad:
no man walks the earth,
no mother gave birth
to one so clear-eyed,
strong-boned, iron-clad.
A bright sword in his hand,
he saved me from death,
from burial in a bitter land,
Llywarch’s son, Cenau.
51
Nid ef borthi gwarth gorsedd Senyllt
A’i llestri llawn medd:
Goddolai gleddyf i garedd,
Goddolai lemain i ryfel.
Dyfforthai lynwysawr o’i fraich
Rhag byddin Deifr a Brynaich.
Gnawd yn ei neuadd fythfeirch,
Gwyar a gwrmseirch,
Ceingiell hiriell o’i law,
Ac yn ei lid brysiaw.
Gwên ac ymhyrddwen hyrddbaid,
Diserch a serch ar dro,
Gwŷr nid oeddyn ddrych draed ffo,
Heilyn achubiad pob bro.
Heilyn
51
The court of Senyllt bore no shame,
its flaming mead cups brimmed.
He put scoundrels to the sword,
gave his life to lead the war,
bore bleeding soldiers in his arms
before Deifr and Brynaich’s men.
From his hall swift horses raced,
On steel-dark armour he shed blood.
Wielding his spear with its whetted edge,
he paced in restless rage.
In war his soldiers, fierce or mild,
knew Heilyn was at their side.
52
Ergryn ei alon arf
Eryr brwydrin, trin tra chwardd.
Cwr ei fanceirw am gwr Bancarw,
Bysedd brych briwant bar.
Ambwyll, amddistair, amddistardd,
Ambwyll, amroddig, amrychwardd,
Ys browys brys treuliodd Rhys yn rhodres:
Ni hu wy ni gaffwy eu neges.
Nid angwy a wanwy oddiwes.
Rhys
52
Foes feared his sword,
wild eagle soaring to war.
Around Bancarw, antlers, deer-horns,
he’d break a skull with freckled hands.
Fickle, fitful, boisterous, brash,
moody, broody in the clash.
Rhys raced to war unwavering.
None escaped his overtaking.
53
Ni mad waned ysgwyd
Ar Gynwal carnwyd;
Ni mad ddodes morddwyd
Ar freichir meinllwyd.
Gell ei baladr, gell,
Gellach ei obell.
Y mae dewr yn ei gell
Yn cnoi angell
Bwch, budd o’i law;
Iddaw poed ymbell.
Cynwal
53
Not luck for genial Cynwal
that he shook his shield.
Not luck he laid his thigh