Читать книгу Some Specimens of the Poetry of the Ancient Welsh Bards - Evans Evan - Страница 10

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To Llewelyn-ap-Iorwerth, or Llewelyn the Great; in which many of his victories are celebrated.

Composed by Llywarch Brydydd y Moch, a Bard, who, according to Mr. Edward Llwyd of the Museum’s Catalogue of the British writers, flourished about the year 1240; but this poem is certainly of more ancient date, for prince Llewelyn died in the year 1240. However that be, the original was taken from Llyfr Coch o Hergest, or the Red book of Hergest, kept in the Archives of Jesus College, Oxon. I have no apology to make for the Bards’ method of beginning or concluding their poems, but that it was their general custom ever since the introduction of Christianity to this island, which was very early. We have no poems that I know of before that period, but some few remains of the Druids in that kind of verse called Englyn Milwr. It was the custom of the heathen poets themselves to begin their poems with an invocation of the Supreme Being. As for instance, Theocritus in the beginning of his Idyllium in praise of Ptolemœus Philadelphus,

Έκ Διὸς αρχώμιθα, κι εις Δία λπyετε, Μοισαι.

But I shall not here enter into a critical dissertation of their merits or defects; my business, as a translator, being to give as faithful a version from the original as I possibly could at this distance of time; when many of the matters of fact, the manners of the age, and other circumstances, alluded to in their poems, must remain obscure to those that are best versed in the records of antiquity.

May Christ, the Creator and Governor of the hosts of heaven and earth, defend me from all disasters; may I, through his assistance, be prudent and discreet ere I come to my narrow habitation in the grave. Christ, the son of God, will give me the gift of song to extol my prince, who giveth the warlike shout with joy. Christ who hath formed me of the four elements, and hath endowed me with the deep and wonderful gift of poetry—Llewelyn is the ruler of Britain and her armour. He is a lion-like brave prince, unmoved in action, the son of Iorwerth, [30a] our strength and true friend, a descendant of Owain [30b] the destroyer, whose abilities appeared in his youth. He came to be a leader of forces, dressed in blue, neat and handsome. In the conflicts of battle, in the clang of arms, he was an heroic youth. When ten years old he successfully attacked his kinsman. [30c] In Aber Conwy, ere my prince, the brave Llewelyn, got his right, he contested with David, [30d] who was a bloody chief, like Julius Cæsar. A chief without blemish, not insulting his foes in distress, but in war impetuous and fierce, like the points of flaming fire burning in their rage. It is a general loss to the Bards, that he is covered with earth. We grieve for him.—Llewelyn was our prince ere the furious contest happened, and the spoils were amassed with eagerness. [30e] The purple gore ran over the snow-white breasts of the warriors, and there was an universal havoc and carnage after the shout. The parti-coloured waves flowed over the broken spear, and the warriors were silent. The briny wave came with force, and another met it mixed with blood, when we went to Porth Aethwy on the steeds of the main over the great roaring of the floods. The spear raged with relentless fury, and the tide of blood rushed with force. Our attack was sudden and fierce. Death displayed itself in all its horrors: so that it was a doubt whether any of us should die of old age. Noble troops, in the fatal hour, trampled on the dead like prancing steeds. Before Rhodri was brought to submission, the church-yards were like fallow grounds. When Llewelyn the successful prince overcame near the Alun [31a] with his warriors of the bright arms, ten thousand were killed, and the crows made a noise, and a thousand were taken prisoners. Llewelyn, though in battle he killed with fury, though he burnt like outrageous fire, yet he was a mild prince when the mead-horns were distributed - - - - - - he gave generously under his waving banners to his numerous Bards gold and silver, which he regardeth not, and Gasgony prancing steeds, with rich trappings, and great scarlet cloaks, shining like the ruddy flame: warlike, strong, well-made destroying steeds, with streams of foam issuing out of their mouths. He generously bestoweth, like brave Arthur, snow-white steeds by hundreds, whose speed is fleeter than birds.

Thou that feedest the fowls of the air like Caeawg [31b] the hero, the valiant ruler of all Britain, the numerous forces of England tumble and wallow in the field before thee. He bravely achieved above Deudraeth Dryfan, [31c] the feats of the renowned Ogrfan. [31d] Men fall silently in the field, and are deprived of the rites of sepulture. Thou hast defeated two numerous armies, one on the banks of Alun of the rich soil, where the Normans were destroyed, as the adversaries of Arthur in the battle of Camlan. [32a] The second in Arfon, near the sea shore - - - - - - And two ruling chiefs, flushed with success, encouraged us like lions, and one superior to them both, a stern hero, the ravage of battles, like a man that conquers in all places. Llewelyn with the broken blade of the gilt sword, the waster of Lloegr, a wolf covered with red, with his warriors about Rhuddlan. His forces carry the standard before him waving in the air. Thou art possessed of the valour of Cadwallon, [32b] the son of Cadfan. He is for recovering the government of all Britain. He kindly stretched his hand to us, while his enemies fled to the sea shore, to embark to avoid the imminent destruction, with despair in their looks, and no place of refuge remained, and the crimson lance whizzed dreadfully over their brows. We the Bards of Britain, whom our prince entertaineth on the first of January, shall every one of us, in our rank and station, enjoy mirth and jollity, and receive gold and silver for our reward - - - - - - - Caer Lleon, [32c] the chief of Môn, has brought thee to a low condition. Llewelyn has wasted thy land, thy men are killed by the sea - - - - He has entirely subdued Gwyddgrug, [33a] where the English ran away, with a precipitate flight, full of horror and consternation. Thy fields are miserably wasted, thy cloister, and thy neat houses, are ashes. The palace of Elsmere [33b] was with rage and fury burnt by fire. Ye all now enjoy peace by submitting to our prince, for wherever he goeth with his forces, whether it be hill or dale, it is the possession of one sole proprietor. Our lion has brought to Trallwng three armies that will never turn their backs, the residence of our enemies ever to be abhorred. The numerous Bards receive divers favours from him. He took Gwyddgrug. See you who succeeds in Mochnant [33c] when he victoriously marches through your country. On its borders the enemy were routed, and the Argoedwys [33d] were furiously attacked, and covered with blood. We have two palaces now in our possession. Let Powys [33e] see who is the valiant king of her people, whether it argueth prudence to act treacherously. Whether a Norman chief be preferable to a conquering Cymro. We have a prince, consider it, who, though silent about his own merit, putteth Lloegr to flight, and is fully bent to conquer the land that was formerly in the possession of Cadwallon, the son of Cadfan, the son of Iago - - - - - A noble lion, the governor of Britain, and her defence, Llewelyn, numerous are thy battles, thou brave prince of the mighty, that puttest the enemy to flight. Mayest thou my friend and benefactor overcome in every hardship. He is a prince with terrible looks who will conquer in foreign countries, as well as in Môn the mother of all Wales. His army has made its way broad thro’ the ocean, and filled the hills, promontories, and dales. The blood flowed about their feet when the maimed warriors fought. In the battle of Coed Aneu, [34a] thou supporter of Bards, didst overthrow thy enemies. The other hard battle was fought at Dygen Ddyfnant, [34b] where thousands behaved themselves with manly valour. The next contest, where noble feats were achieved, was on the hill of Bryn yr Erw, [34c] where they saw thee like a lion foremost in piercing thy enemies, like a strong eagle, a safeguard to thy people. Upon this account they will no longer dispute with thee. They vanish before thee like the ghosts of Celyddon. [34d] Thou hast taken Gwyddgrug and Dyfnant by force, and Rhuddlan with its red borders, and thousands of thy men overthrew Dinbych, [34e] Foelas, [34f] and Gronant; [34g] and the men of Carnarvon, thy friends, were busy in action, and Dinas Emreis [34h] strove bravely in thy cause, and they vanquished with the renowned Morgant [34i] at their head all that stood before them. Thy pledges know not where to turn their faces, they cannot enjoy mirth or rest. Thou wert honourably covered with blood, and thy wound is a glory to thee. When thou didst resist manfully the attack of the enemy, thou wert honoured by thy sword, with thy buckler on thy shoulders. Thou didst bravely lead thy forces, the astonishment of Lloegr, to the borders of Mechain [35a] and Mochnant. Happy was the mother who bore thee, who art wise and noble, and freely distributest rich suits of garments, thy gold and silver. And thy Bards celebrate thee for presenting them thy bred steeds, when they sit at thy tables. And I myself am rewarded for my gift of poetry, with gold and distinguished respect. And should I desire of my prince the moon as a present, he would certainly bestow it on me. Thy praise reacheth as far as Lliwelydd, [35b] and Llywarch is the man who celebrates with his songs - - - - - - My praises are not extravagant to thee the prodigy of our age, thou art a prince firm in battle like an elephant. When thou arrivest at the period of thy glory, when thy praises cease to be celebrated by the Bard and the harp, my brave prince, ere thou comest, before thy last hour approaches, to confess thy sins, after thou hast through thy prowess vanquished thy enemies, mayest thou at last become a glorious saint.