Loyal soldiers rallied from Dinedyn,
chosen men from every watchful land,
against a mongrel host from England,
nine score to one, and all about them
herds of horses, silk garments, armour.
In war, Gwaednerth guarded his glory.
92
Gosgordd Gododdin i ar rawn rhyn,
Meirch eiliw eleirch a seirch gwehyn,
Ac yng nghynnor llu lliwed ddisgyn
Yn amwyn calledd a medd Eidyn.
O gusyl Mynyddawg
Trosasai ysgwydawr,
Cwyddasai lafnawr
Ar rannawr gwyn.
Wy ceryn gon gwylaes ddisgyn,
Ni phorthasan warth wŷr ni thechyn.
Mynyddog
92
On shaggy horses white as swans,
in the vanguard of a hostile band,
Gododdin’s men, mounts close-harnessed,
guarded the forest and Eidyn’s feast.
At Mynyddog’s word shields were shaken,
blades ripped pale cheeks.
They raced to the attack,
unfaltering, no turning back.
93
Neud eryfais fedd ar fy ngherdded,
Gwinfaeth rhag Catraeth, yn un gwared.
Pan laddai a’i lafnawr, anysgoged yn nhaer,
Nid oedd wael men yd weled.
Nid oedd hyll edellyll yn ymwared,
Adwythig sgwydog, Madog Elfed.
Madog Elfed
93
He downed his mead at a single draught
before the war-path to Catraeth.
When he wielded his sword, brutal
in war, no one called him cruel.
No grim ghost, his men defended,
lethal soldier, Madog Elfed.
94
Pan ddêl i gyfranc
Nid oedd hoedlddianc.
Dialwr Aeron,
Cyrchai aur geinion
Arwrthiad Brython:
Browys meirch Cynon.
Cynon
94
No saving himself
on the field of war,
Aeron’s avenger.
He attacked,
gold-adorned charger,
the Britons’ defender.
Restive for the course,
Cynon’s horses.
95
Ef lladdodd llu mawr
Yng ngwerth ei adrawdd.
Lladdodd mab Nwython
O eurdorchogion
Cant o dëyrnedd
Bu gwell pryd pan aeth
Can wŷr i Gatraeth.
Oedd aillt ŵr gwinfaeth,
Calon ehelaeth,
Oedd gŵr llwyd heinif,
Oedd llurig deinif,
Oedd gyrth, oedd cuall,
Ar gefn ei gafall.
Ni wisgwys ym mhlymlwyd,
Heinif ei wayw a’i sgwyd
A’i gleddyf a’i gyllell,
No Heinif ab Nwython
Gŵr a fai well.
Heinif
95
He slaughtered an army
to earn his fame,
the son of Nwython,
gold-torqued war-man.
Killed a hundred princes
to gain glory
and more on his return
with Catraeth’s soldiers.
Wine-fuelled, generous,
a man’s man, impetuous,
scatterer of the cuirass,
astride his horse.
No one stronger in action
with spear and shield,
with sword and blade,
than Heinif son of Nwython.
96
Tra Merin Iddew, trylew yng nghad,
Tri gwaeth ffrawdd ffrawddus lew,
Bubon a woreu, bardew.
Bubon
96
From over the sea of Iddew,
in war, in courage,
three times fiercer than a lion,
Bubon’s deeds driven by rage.
97
Gnawd i ar ffysgiolin amddiffyn Gododdin
Ym mlaen trin terydd rai,
Gnawd yn llwrw alan buan byddai,
Gnawd rhag teulu Dewr ef disgynnai,
Gnawd mab Golystan, cyn ni bai gwledig
Ei dad, yndewid a lafarai,
Gnawd ar les Mynyddawg sgwydawr trai,
Gnawd gwayw rhudd rhag udd Eidyn, Urfai.
Urfai
97
Usually on a spirited horse, fighting for Gododdin,
ahead of the bravest in the action.
Usually hunting, swift on the deer’s track.
Usually before the Deiron army he’d attack.
Usually trusted, the word of the son of Golystan,
though not a prince.
Usually, for Mynyddawg, shields were shattered.
Usually his spear was bloody, Urfai, lord of Eidyn.
98
Gweled ei lafnawr yn lliwed
Yn cyfamwyn gâl galed,
Rhag godwrf ei aesawr godeched,
Maint a gaffai ei law nid atgoriai ohonaw,
Cwyr oedd arnaw a thaned.
Cyndyniog, calchdrai, pan grynied gryniai,
Nid adwanai, rywanai, rywaned.
Oedd mynych gwedi cwyn i esgar ei gyflwyn,
Oedd gwenwyn yd traethed.
A chyn ei olo o dan dydwed daear
Dyrllyddai Edar ei fedd yfed.
Edar
98
In the host his sword was seen
bucking the bitter foe.
Men flew from the hill of Eidyn
at his shield’s echo.
Those he caught could not cut free
of the wax and the fire.
So he thrust, shield broken,
struck and was stricken.
His death was cruel.
Before his burial
beneath the earth,
Edar earned his mead.
99
Ef gwant tra thrichant echasaf,
Ef lladdai a pherfedd ac eithaf,
Oedd gwiw ym mlaen llu llariaf,
Goddolai o haid meirch y gaeaf.
Gochorai brain du ar fur caer
Cyn ni bai ef Arthur.
Rhwng cyfnerthi yng nghlysur,
Yng nghwnnor, gwernor Gwawrddur.
Gwawrddur
99
Charging ahead of the three hundred
he cut down the centre and the wing.
Blazing ahead of the finest army,
he gave horses from his winter herd.
He fed ravens on the fortress wall
though he was no Arthur.
Among the strongest in the war,
Gwawrddur, citadel.
100
Llithiesid adar ei adaf,
Edysmygaf edeifniad,
Eithiniad a rhwygiad:
Ef gwisgws awr
Yng nghynnor gawr,
Yng nghynfaran edeifniad.
Ballog, talgellog cad,
Trydydd Engiriawl,
Erlyniad gawr,
Arth arwynawl, arwygiad.
Gorfloddiad riallu,
Erglywiad hirlu,
Cain fu Gibno mab Gwengad.
Cibno
100
He hand-fed the crows.
I honour him, great lord,
savage ravager.
He wore gold
in the front row
in the war of heroes.
Freckled fighter,
foe-hunter,
wild bear,
attacker,
fierce saviour,
the army’s honour won,
Cibno the handsome,
Gwendad’s son.
Pais Dinogad
Pais Dinogad, fraith fraith,
O grwyn balaod ban wraith.
Chwid, chwid, chwidogaith!
Gochanwn, go
chenyn wythgaith.
Pan elai dy dad di i helia,
Llath ar ei ysgwydd, llory yn ei law,
Ef gelwi gŵn gogyhwg:
‘Giff, Gaff; daly, daly, dwg, dwg!’
Ef lleddi bysg yng nghorwg
Mal ban lladd llew llywiwg.
Pan elai dy dad di i fynydd
Dyddygai ef pen iwrch, pen gwythwch, pen hydd,
Pen grugiar fraith o fynydd,
Pen pysg o Raeadr Derwennydd.
O’r sawl yd gyrhaeddai dy dad di â’i gigwain,
O wythwch a llewyn a llwynain,
Nid angai oll ni fai oradain.
Dinogad’s Coat
Dinogad’s coat is brindled brown,
made of mottled marten skin.
Chwid! Chwid! Whistle down!
Eight slaves sing my refrain.
When your Tada tramped the land,
Spear on shoulder, club in hand,
He called his swift dogs, ‘Giff! Gaff!
Daly, daly, dwg, dwg! Riff! Raff!’
From his coracle he’d spear
fish as a lion kills a deer.
When he scaled the mountain crag
he’d bring a roebuck, boar or stag.
He hunted on the mountain wall
for freckled grouse, a doe, a deer,
fish from Derwennydd waterfall.
What your Tâd struck with his spear
unless it flew would not get clear.
About the Author
Gillian Clarke lives in Ceredigion. She was National Poet of Wales (2008–2016) and was awarded the Queen’s Gold Medal for Poetry in 2010. Her prose works include a writer’s journal, At the Source (Carcanet, 2008), and her poetry collections include Selected Poems (Picador, 2016) and Zoology (Carcanet, 2017). A new collection of essays and a journal, Roots Home, is forthcoming from Carcanet.
Copyright
First published in 2021
by Faber & Faber Ltd
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This ebook edition first published in 2021
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Translation and introduction © Gillian Clarke, 2021
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ISBN 978–0–571–35213–5