Y Gododdin

Aneirin

Y Gododdin
Excerpts and translations
Welsh epic poem by Aneirin
Arrangement by Siobhán

For documentation and further information, contact
siobhan.an.einigh@gmail.com

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Hwn yw e Gododin. Aneirin - ae cant
Hwn yw e Gododin. Siobhán - yma canu
This is the Gododdin, Aneirin's master song.
This is the Gododdin, Siobhán sings it now.

Y Gododdin - Heros of Wales – Go Forth
Defend your land from Saesneag dictum.

XXI - 21
Men went to Catraeth, they were renowned.
Wine and mead from gold cups was their drink,
A year in noble ceremonial spent,
Three men and three score and three hundred, wearing the golden torques.
Of all those who charged, after much reveling,
Only three won free through courage in strife,
The two war-dogs of Aeron, Cenon the dauntless,
And myself, soaked in blood, for the sake of my song.

XLVIII - 48
Under foot for a while,
My knee is stretched,
My hands are bound,
In the earthen house,
With an iron chain
Around my two knees.
Yet of the mead from the horn,
And of the men of Catraeth,
I, Aneirin, will compose,
As Taliesin knows,
An elaborate song,
Or a strain to Gododdin,
Before the dawn of the brightest day.

LXIV (LXIII) - 64
Splendid the song! A war-band there was,
Soldiers surrounding Catraeth made war.
Bloody motley, trampled, trod on.
Warriors trod on!
Vengeance, mead's wages,
With corpses, though great was the cost.

LXVI 66
Splendid the song, bright the war-bands.
That, after the fatal impulse, filled Aeron.
Their hands satisfied the mouths of the brown eagles,
And prepared feast for the beasts of prey
For Mynyddawg's sake, ruler of men,
They set themselves against hostile spears.
Before Catraeth, keen were gold-torqued men:
They thrust, they slaughtered those who stood firm.

LXIX 69
Early they rose, at dawning
There was a conflict at the Aber in front of the course,
The pass and the knoll were in conflagration.
Like a boar they charged the hill.
Courteous, grave.
Savage were the dark spear-shafts.

LXXI 71
Early they rose, at matins.
After kindling a fire at the Aber in front of the fence,
When warriors charge in a band,
In the lead, leading, following,
Before hundreds the first to charge.
He was as eager for slaughter
As for drinking mead and wine.
With the fierce and impetuous stroke of the sword.
How irresistible was he when he would kill
The foe! would that his equal could be found!

LXIX - 89
No cowards could bear the hall's uproar.
Like a fire that rages when kindled.
On Tuesday they donned their dark armour,
On Wednesday, they polished their enamelled armour,
On Thursday, terms were agreed on,
On Friday, was brought carnage all around,
On Saturday, fearless, they worked as one,
On Sunday, crimson blades were their lot,
On Monday, men were seen waist-deep in blood.
After defeat, the Gododdin say,
Before Madawg's tent on his return
There came but one man in a hundred.

LXXVI - 76
Mynawg of the impregnable strand of Gododdin,
Mynawg, for him our cheeks are sad:
Before the raging flame of Eiddyn he turned not aside.
He stationed men of firmness at the entrance,
Formed a wall in the van,
Vigorously he descended upon the furious foe;
He caused devastation and sustained great weight.
Of Mynyddawg's war-band there returned
But a single blade, bitter, dripping.

XXXI 31
Men launched the assault, moving as one.
Short were their lives, made drunk by pure mead,
Mynyddawg's band, renowned in battle.
For a feast of mead they gave their lives,
Caradawg and Madawg, Pyll and Ieuan,
Gwgan and Gwiawn, Gwyn and Cynfan,
Steel-weaponed Peredur, Gwawrddur and Aeddan,
A war-band steadfast in battle, shields shattered.
And though they were being slain, they slew.
Not one to his own home returned.

XXXII 32
Men launched the assault, together were they regaled
That year over mead; great was their design:
How sad their tale, the insatiable hiraeth, longing.
Bitter their home, no child to cherish it.
How long the grief for them and mourning,
For ardent men of wine-nourished lands.
Renowned Mynyddawg's feast was fashioned,
And its cost, the battle of Catraeth.

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