Member Since: 12/08/2007
Band Members: The Battle of GodeuThe translation presented here was done by Revd. Robert Williams for W.F.Skene's Four Ancient Books of Wales. This poem is now beyond copyright restrictions and has been reprinted in W.F.Skene's Arthur and the Britons in Wales and Scotland edited by Derek Bryce of Llanerch Publishers, 1988. This poem is more commonly known as Cad Goddeu. It is found in the Book of Taliesin.---------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------I have been a mulitude of shapes,Before I assumed a consistant form.I have been a sword, narrow, variegated,I will believe when it is apparent.I have been a tear in the air,I have been in the dullest of stars.I have been a word among letters,I have been a book in the origin.I have been the light of lanterns,A year and a half.I have been a continuing bridge,Over three score river-mouths.I have been a course, I have been an eagle.I have been a coracle in the sea.I have been complaint in the banquet.I have been a drop in a shower;I have been a sword in the grasp of a hand.I have been a shield in battle.I have been a string in a harp,Disguised for nine years.In water, in foam,I have been a sponge in fire,I have been wood in covert.I am not he who will not sing ofA combat though small,The conflict of the battle of Godau of sprigs.Against the Guledig of Prydain,There passed central horses,Fleets full of riches.There passed an animal with wide jaws,On it were a hundred heads.And a battle was contestedUnder the root of his tongue;And another battle there isIn his occiput.A black sprawling toad,With a hundred claws on it,A snake speckled, crested.A hundred souls through sinShall be tormented in its flesh.I have been in Care Vevenir,Thither hastened grass and trees.Minstrels were singing,Warrior bands were wondering,At the exaltation of the Brython,That Gwydyon effected.There was a calling on the Creator,Upon Christ for causes,Until wehn the EternalShould deliver those whom he had made.The Lord answered them,Through language and elements:Take the forms fo the principal trees,Arranging yourselves in battle array,And restraining the public.Inexperienced in battle hand to hand.When the trees were enchanted,In the expectation of not being trees,The trees uttered thier voicesFrom strings of harmonyThe disputes ceased.Let us cut short heavy days,A female restained the din.She came forth altogether lovely.The head of the line, the head was a female.The advantage of a sleepless cowWould not make us give way.The blood of men up to our thighs,The greatest of importunate mental exertionsSported into the world.And one has endedFrom considering the deluge,And Christ crucified,And the day of judgement near at hand.The alder-trees, the head of the line,Formed the van.The willows and quicken-treesCame late to the army.Plum-trees, they are scarce,Unlonged for men.The elaborate medlar-trees,The objects of contention.The prickly rose bushes,Against a host of giants,The rasberry brake didWhat is better failedFor the security of life.Privet and woodbineAnd ivy on its front,Life furze to the combatThe cherry-tree was provoked.The birch, not withstanding his high mind,Was late before he was arrayed.Not because of his cowardice,But on account of his greatness.The laburnum held in mind,That your wild nature was foreign.Pine-trees in the porch,The chair of distributionBy me greatly exalted,In the presence of kings.The elm with his retinue,Did not go aside a foot;He would fight with the centre,And the flanks, and the rear.Hazel-trees, it was judgedThat ample thy mental exertion.The privet, happy is his lot,The bull of battle, the lord of the world.Morawg and MoryddWere made prosperous in pines.Holly, it was tinted with green,He was a hero.The hawthorn, surrounded by prickles,With pain at his hand.The aspen-wood has been topped,It was topped in battle.The fern that was plundered.The broom in the van of the army,In the trenches he was hurt.The gorse did not do well,Notwithstanding let it overspread.The heath was victorous, keeping off on all sides.The common people were charmed,During the proceeding of the men.The oak, quick moving,Before him, tremble heaven and earth.A valiant door-keeper against an enemy,His name is considered.The blue-bells combined,And caused a consternation.In rejecting, were rejected.Pear-trees, the best intrudersin the conflict on the plain.A very wrathful wood,The chestnut is bashful,The opponent of happiness,The jet has become black,The mountain has become crooked,The woods have beceom a kiln,Existing formerly has the great seas,Sine was heard the shout:---The tops of the birch covered us with leaves.And transformed us, and changed our faded state.The branches of the oak have ensnared usFrom the Gwarchan Mwelderw.Laughing on the side of rock,The rold is not an ardent nature.Not of mother and father was I made,Did my Creator create me.Of nine-formed faculties,Of the fruit of fruits,Of the fruit of the primordial God,Of primroses adn blossoms on the hill,Of the earth, of an earthly course,When I was formed,Of the flower nettles,O fthe water of the ninth wave.I was enchanted by Math,Before I became immortal,I was enchanted by GwydyonThe great purifier of the Brithon,Of Eurwys, of Euron,of Euron, of Modron.Of five battalions of scientific ones,Teachers, children of Math.When the removal occurred,I was enchanted by the Guledig.When he was half-burnt,I was enchanted by the sageOf Sages, in the primitive world.When I had a being;When the host of the world was in dignity,The bard was accustomed to benifits.To the song of praise I am inclined, which the tongue recites.I played in twilight,I slept in purple;I was truly in the enchantmentWith Dylan, the son of the wave.In the circumfrence, in the middle,Between the knees of kings,Scattering spears not keen,From heaven when came,To the great deep, floods,In the battle there will beFour score hundreds,That will divide according to their will.Are they neither older or younger,Than myself in their divisions.A wonder, Canhwr are born, every one of nine hundred.He was with me also,With my sword spotted with blood.Honor was allotted to meBy the Lord, and protection (was) where he was.If I come to where the boar was killed,He will compose, he will decompose,He will form languages.The strong-handed gleamer, his name,With a gleam he rules his numbers.They would spread out in a flame,When I shall go on high.I have been a speckled snake on the hill,I have been a viper in Llyn.I have been a bill-hook crooked that cuts,I have been a ferocious spearWith my chasuble and bowlI will prophesy not badly.Four score smokesOn every one that bring.Five battalians of armsWill be caught by my knife.Six steads of yellow hueA hundred times better ismy cream-colored steed,Swift as the sea-mewWhich will not passBetween the sea and the shore.Am I not pre-eminent in the field of blood?Over it are a hundred chieftans.Crimson (is) the gem of my belt,Gold my shield border.There has not been born, in the gap,That has been visiting me,Except Goronwy,From the dales of Edrywy.Long white my fingers,It is long since I have been a herdsman.I have travelled the earth,Before I was proficient in learning.I have travelled, I made a circuit,I slept in a hundred islands.A hundred Caers I have dwelt in.Ye intelligent Druids,Declare to Arthur,What is there more earlyThan I that they sing of.And one is comeFrom considering the delugeAnd Christ crucified,And the day of future doom.A golden gem in a golden jewel.I am splendidAnd shall be wantonFrom the oppression of the metal-workers.
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