Lament for Llwelyn ap Gruffudd

In praise of Llywelyn ab iorwerth
Bold was Arthur once, and his men, spreading
Anguish on every side,
Soldiers’ dearly loved soldier,
As you are today, bold man.

Bold man, llywelyn, most famvoured his bards
And his myiad men.
Christendom’s lord will not losse
England’s bonds, Arrogant race!

Arrogant any not bound to my lord,
Man who prizes not greed.
God made not, heaven’s high king,
Nor will make, a man so good.

You have made war, Britain’s mainstay, gold spear,
No delight to your foes.
To the Welsh, wrathful comrade,
England’s heaven surrendered.

High tide’s might, when at ease he is gentle,
A generous ruler,
Savage when he is close-pressed,
Fearsome assault, fierce pursuit.
Unconcealed your assault, Llŷr’s zeal and Brân’s And red-stained your spear-shaft.
There have you roved, lord of men,
Through sword-strokes, royal eagle.

Since you have ruled, the Welsh uproot England,
Seizing thousands of spoils,
Dragon’s wealth, fearsome ruler,
Savage lord’s horde, ill-gotten.

 



 


 

 

 

copyright © 2008 CelticBritain.net, Alle rechten voorbehouden.           Sitemap  Contact