Classic Poem

I praise a patron high-hearted in strife,
Wolf of warfare, challenging, charging,
Singing the pleasure of his presence,
Singing his power, mead-nourished worth,
Singing his fervour, swift-winged falcon,
Singing a lofty soul's lofty thoughts,
Singing daring deeds, lord of war-hounds,
Singing of one who inspires high praise,
Singing a song for my lavish lord,
Singing words of praise to praise Owain.
In arms against Angles in Tegeingl's lands,
Blood spilling in streams, blood pouring forth.
Dragons encountered, rulers of Rome,
A prince's heir, red their precious wine.
In strife with the Dragon of the East,
Fair Western Dragon, the best was his.
Ardent the lord, sword bright above sheath,
Spear in strife and outpouring from sword,
Sword-blade in hand and hand hewing heads,
Hand on sword and sword on Norman troops,
And constant anguish from the sight of death,
And spilling of blood and revelling,
Blood covering men, their skulls bloodied.
For flesh I heard a pledge to the birds,
In the piercing thrust of spear in hand,
In the blood-trail inviting ravens.
They rode on corpses for a thousand crows,
Brynaich's riders, Owain's war-ravens,
Slaughter by the barrel, carcasses stiff,
A tidbit for them, dead men's entrails.
In hosts we went, for his prize, for his praise,
Many minstrels for Owain's bounty,
To Cadell Hiriell Hiriein's bold offspring,
To Coel's line's guardian, for their reward.
Battlefield's spear-thrust, lavish with praise,
Buckler-bearing, onrushing eagle,
Court's courageous, alert defender,
Three-coloured his spear, savage assault.
At Aberteifi they cut through falling spears
As at Badon Fawr, valiant war-cry.
I saw war-stags and stiff red corpses,
It was left to the wolves, their burial;
I saw them routed, without their hands,
Beneath birds' claws, men mighty in war;
I saw their ruin, three hundred dead,
I saw, battle done, bowels on thorns;
I saw strife cause a dreadful uproar,
Troops contending, a rout collapsing.
I saw struggle, men falling from sea-cliffs,
I saw their fortress, enemy slain,
I saw soldiers' spears round a stone wall,
I saw lances red from Owain's rush,
I saw for Saxons sorry corpses,
Long day at an end, princes' reaping.
Battle won, prince of his country's sons,
Battle dear-bought, he may scorn pursuit.
I saw at Rhuddlan a bright red tide,
Hero's host, for man, for glory,
I saw in Penfro a flawless ruler,
I saw in Penardd a lord roving,
I saw their brave slaughter, brave troops down
That a brave land bears, seagull's bounty.
I saw fierce throngs, I saw scurrying,
I saw zeal cry, resounding signal,
I saw a rout of troops, of comrades,
I saw strife round Caer, round Coed Llwyfain.
They were not, Gwynedd's valour, mere boys:
You were fearless, shepherd of Britain.