Red Book of Hergest V
I
Let it be red, the rooster's crest;
that she [raises] her piercing voice from her triumphal bed;
the joy of man, God praises it.
II
Let the swineherd be happy when the wind blows;
the friend of silence is welcome.
May misfortune always [found] on the wicked.
III
Let him be skilful in preventing, the sergeant;
let it be a torment, evil; and let the clothes be loose;
let him who loves the bard be very generous.
IV
Let him be brave, the chief, and let him be liberal;
let him be wolf against wolf in the breach;
and not turn his face to [anyone] to whom he has not given a gift.
V
May they be quick, the couriers, at the confines of the mountain;
let sorrow [dwell] in my heart;
let him be the inconstant libertine.
VI
Let him be in the light, the rider;
let him be in the shade, the thief;
she is [easily] seduced, the wife of the rich;
he is a companion of the wolf, the lazy shepherd.
VII
That she walks on crutches, the truth;
that it runs, the error; let the son of science be eager [to learn];
that the libertine has two words.
VIII
Let it be brown, the cow; let him be gray, the wolf;
and quick the horse [fed] with barley,
[the horse that has] soft grain pressed into its flanks.
IX
Let it be curved, the trap; let it be hard, the dungeon;
[let him be] quick in battle,
the horse [which has] soft grain pressed into its chest.
X
Let the stunned be inconstant;
that the deaf person is uncertain; let the madman be a fighter;
happy is he who sees his friend!
XI
May it be deep, the lake; let it be sharp, the great spear;
let the cheek of the sick warrior inflame at the battle cry;
may he be the happiness of the wise, the God who elevates him!
XII
Let it be pungent, the gorse; let him be a wanderer, the stranger;
let him be rough, the hero;
How the fool loves to laugh!
XIII
Let it be wet, the furrow; let there be many sureties;
let him be weak, the patient; let him be joyful, the healthy man;
let him be grumpy the bichon; let her be gruff, the old woman.
XIV
Let it be lamentable, the cry [of pain];
let it be mobile, the army; that the parasite is playful;
let the warrior be brave, and let the mountain be [covered] with frost.
XV
Let it be white, the gull; let it be noisy, the wave;
that he likes to curdle, the blood, on the spear [of ash];
that the jelly is gray; let the heart be a lion.
XVI
Let the plain be verdant;
let him be beyond reproach, the speaker;
let the spear repel the spear in the fray;
that the wicked woman deserves the blame.
XVII
Let the hen scratch; let the lion cause a tumult;
that the madman likes to fight;
may he be broken, his heart, with pain.
XVIII
May beauty be coveted by many;
let the tower be white; let the armor be black;
let the glutton be greedy; let the clerics be intercessors.
XIX
Let the wicked be hated;
let old age be destitute;
let it be delicious, the mead, in the banquet.
XX
Let him be grumpy, the bichon; let the snake be poisonous;
that we cross the ford by swimming, in spite of the spears:
adultery is no better than the thief.
XXI
May the sea be green, may the wave break with a crash;
let him groan who is in pain;
let the old man in pain be sad.
Red Book of Hergest VI
The wind
I
Usually the wind [blows] from the south; ordinarily the gifts [abound] in the holy place;
usually the weak man [is] very slender;
[it is] common for a man to ask for news,
usual for the child to the nanny [to ask for] delicacies.
II
Usually the wind blows from the east; usually the man with the prominent chest is proud;
the blackbird [sings] among the thorns;
usually, in the face of oppression, [arise] a great cry;
ordinarily, in the recesses, one finds food for crows.
III
Usually the wind [blows] from the north; usually the ladies [are] gentle,
ordinarily the man is handsome, in Gwened;
usually the prince presides over the feast; ordinarily, after the meal, torpor.
IV
Ordinarily the wind [blows] from the sea;
usually the wave is stormy;
[it is] common for the sow to feed on refuse;
usual for swine to dig up wild roots.
V
Usually the wind [blows] from the mountain;
usually [there are] puddles in the [flat] country;
stubble is usually found in marshes;
ordinarily the man of religion feeds on dairy;
usually trees [have] leaves and branches.
VI
Ordinarily, the eagle's area [is] at the top of the oak tree,
and men gossip in the assembly,
and the eye of the lover [is] on the one he loves.
VII
Ordinarily, [all] the day, the fire shines in the dampness of winter,
surrounded by warriors with a very free language;
ordinarily, the felon's home [turns] into solitude.
VIII
The reed [is] fragile and the flood [reigns] in the valley.
The Saxon and the silver are allied.
[It's a] hard soul [that] of the stepmother!
IX
The leaf twirls in the wind;
woe to that which has its destiny!
She is old, [although] born in the year.
X
Though he is small, he has an artistically [built] dwelling,
the bird, in the depths of the woods:
of the same age are happiness and kindness.
XI
Cold, wet [is] the mountain;
cold, wet snow; trust in God; he will not deceive you;
too much caution does not make a long wound.
Red Book of Hergest VII
The Calends of winter
I
At the calends of winter, hard grain, drooping leaves;
pond full in the morning, before we go out.
Woe to him who trusts abroad!
II
At the winter calends, shiny interior;
both wind and storm:
hiding a secret is very heavy work.
III
At the calends of winter, the roe deer [are] lean;
the head of the birch turns yellow; the summer house [become] widowed.
Woe to him who reproaches for a trifle!
IV
At the calends of winter the ends of the branches bend;
disorder usually [comes] out of the bad guy's head;
where there is no gift [of genius], there will be no education.
V
At the calends of winter, harsh temperature;
[it’s] the opposite of May Day;
apart from God, there is no seer.
VI
At the calends of winter, the feathers of the birds are white,
the short day, the cuckoos moan:
mercy is the first duty of God.
VII
At the winter calends, [it is] hard, [it is] dry;
the crow is jet black; faster [the arrow soars] from the bow;
when the old man falls, the young man's lip laughs.
VIII
At the calends of winter, the deer graze.
Woe to the patient, when the stars have provided a short career!
in truth, better is goodness than beauty.
IX
At the calends of winter, no brush fire [on the mountains];
plow in the furrow, ox at work:
out of a hundred, rarely a friend.
Red Book of Hergest VIII
I
The boxwood serves as a crutch; the ash is gnarled;
teals frequent the lake; the wave whitens on the shore;
stronger than a hundred [men] is the affliction of the heart.
II
[During] the long nights, the ocean is noisy;
tumult is common in combat:
evil and good do not form a society.
III
The vigorous twig of the green-headed birch
pull my foot from the fetter:
do not entrust your secret to the young man.
IV
The vigorous branch of the oak, in the wood,
pull my foot from the chain:
don't confide a secret to the girl.
V
The vigorous twig of the leafy oak
pull my foot from prison:
don't confide a secret to the gossip.
VI
The vigorous branch of the bramble covered with blackberries,
and the blackbird on its nest, and the storyteller,
are never silent.
VII
It's raining outside! the fern is wet;
the sea sand is bleached;
the foam [of the waves] is swollen;
the most beautiful light [is] the intelligence of man.
VIII
It's raining outside! [My] shelter (is) very narrow,
the yellowing heather, the lean parsnip.
God, king of heaven, why did you create a mourner [like me?]
IX
It's raining outside! my hair is damp;
the patient is groaning;
the sheer mountain; the dark ocean; the salty sea.
X
It's raining outside! it's raining in the ocean;
the wind whistles in the tops of the reeds;
any game without gain is sterile.
Red Book of Hergest IX
The Splendors
I
[It is] very dazzling, the tops of the ash trees [in bloom]
which are white for a long time when they grow in the torrent:
the sick heart [sees] its pain last a long time.
II
[It is] very dazzling, the surface of the torrent,
at the long hour of midnight: every intelligent man must be honoured:
the woman must bring sleep to pain.
III
[It is] very dazzling, the top of the willow [in bloom];
the fish is happy in the lake; the wind whistles in the end of the small branches:
nature prevails over instruction.
IV
[It is] very dazzling, the top of the heather [in bloom];
trust the wise; and beware of the fool:
there is no seer but God.
V
[She is] very dazzling, the stem of the clover;
the man without courage is moaning; the envious [are] exhausted:
ordinarily worries [found] on the weak man.
VI
[She is] very dazzling, the top of the [flowering] reed:
the envious [is] full of anger, seldom is there [anyone] to satisfy him:
it is the act of the discreet man to love loyally.
VII
[She is] very dazzling, the mountain peaks in winter, enemy of sleep:
the reed [is] fragile; heavy is the oppression:
in the face of hunger, there is no timidity.
VIII
[It is] very dazzling, the crest of the mountains [exposed] to the violent cold of winter:
the reed is fragile; the foam covers the mead:
needs are bitter in exile.
IX
[It is] very dazzling, the top of the oak;
bitter [is] the bud of the ash tree; in front of the ducks, the waves open:
mighty is deception:
For a long time worries have [dwelled] in my heart.
X
[It is] very dazzling, the top of the oak;
bitter [is] the bud of the ash tree, sweet the parsnip, laughing the flood:
the cheek does not hide the trouble of the heart.
XI
[She is] very dazzling, the head of the [flowery] rosehip;
necessity has no law; that everyone finds his home:
the worst fault is incivility.
XII
[She is] very dazzling, the one of the [flowery] broom;
the lover converses [at length];
golden yellow [are] the well-nourished branches [of the broom];
the ford [is shallow: usually the happy man sleeps well.
XIII
[She is] very dazzling, the head of the [blooming] apple tree;
every happy man is welcomed,
[he is] intolerable to others, and, after love, indiscreet.
XIV
[She is] very dazzling, the head of the [blooming] apple tree;
everything happy is welcomed;
in the long days, the pools (are] lukewarm:
a veil [spreads] over the dawn of the blind prisoner.
XV
[She is] very dazzling, the head of the hazel [flowering] on Mount Digoll:
all crazy is irreproachable.
It is the work of a hero to obtain an armistice.
XVI
[She is] very dazzling, the head of the reed [in bloom];
usually the ponds [are] asleep,
and young people (busy] in learning: only the madman breaks his faith.
XVII
[She is] very dazzling, the plume of the iris;
let every hero be a heavy drinker;
let the word of the family be sacred:
ordinarily the liar breaks his word.
XVIII
[It is] very dazzling, the surface of the heather;
ordinarily failure follows timidity; the wave breaks violently on the shore;
ordinarily the truthful man keeps his word.
XIX
[She is] very dazzling, the extremity of the reeds;
she is sweet, my cow; they flow, my tears today;
there is no consolation for man.
XX
[She is] very dazzling, the crest of the fern;
yellow [is] the flower of marigold;
the barrier-free sea for the blind; running, restless children.
XXI
[It is] very dazzling, the top of the service tree;
worries usually [dwell with] the old man,
like bees in solitude:
[To no one] but God belongs vengeance.
XXII
[It is] very dazzling, the top of the holm oak;
violent the storm, fragile the brushwood:
ordinarily the frolic laughs too much.
XXIII
[It is] very dazzling, the dome of the hazel grove; so of the fern.
Here are the leaves sprouted at the oaks:
whoever sees what he likes is happy.
XXIV
[It is] very dazzling, the top of the oak;
cold and boiling are the waters:
let the cow seek the stem of the birch!
let the arrow wound the superb!
XXX
[It is] very dazzling, the top of the hard holly, when it opens its golden leaves.
When everyone sleeps on their mattress,
God does not sleep when he gives assistance.
XXXI
[It is] very dazzling, the top of a fragile and tender willow;
the courier, in the long [summer days is] limp:
He who loves another does not disdain him.
XXXII
[It is] very dazzling, the tip of the rushes;
rowed [are) the trees:
when he has retired under his sheets, the gallant has a superb spirit.
XXXIII
[It is] very dazzling, the head of the hawthorn [in flower]:
bold is the eye of the steed:
usually the lover [is] grateful;
good luck to the messenger in a hurry!
XXXIV
[It is] very dazzling, the leaf of the watercress;
the horse is belligerent; wood is the adornment of the floor;
the spirit laughs at those who love it.
XXXV
[It is] very dazzling, the top of the [flowered] bush;
the horse is precious;
it is a good [thing] that intelligence united with force:
let the incapable be powerless!
XXXVI
[It is] very dazzling, the top of the groves;
birds are a beautiful ornament; the long day is a gift from the sun;
mercy is the first duty of God.
XXXVII
[They are] very dazzling, the furrows, and very harmonious the woods;
violently the wind blows [among] the trees;
do not intercede for the hardened man, it is useless.
XXXVIII
[It is] very dazzling, the stem of the elderberry [in flower];
impatient is the solitary singer;
usually the violent man oppresses,
and vice takes good from the hands.
Red Book of Hergest X
The song of the cuckoo
I
Sitting on the mountain, [I feel] my warrior spirit defeated;
and also he no longer pushes me forward; my days [will be] short henceforth;
my house is in ruins.
II
The wind is cutting; life, a heavy penance;
although the wood takes back its summer dress,
I am terribly ill today.
III
I am not hunting, I have no bloodhounds;
I cannot walk:
as long as it suits him, let the cuckoo sing his song!
IV
The chattering cuckoo sings with the day
his melodious calls in the valleys of Kiok:
“better the rich than the poor,” he said.
V
At the haven of Kiok the cuckoos sing
on flowering branches;
woe to the sick person who listens to them in their joy!
VI
At the haven of Kiok the cuckoos sing;
their song unpleasantly affects my mind;
May those who hear them also not be sick!
VII
Didn't I hear the cuckoo [singing] on the tree surrounded by ivy?
Have I not let my shield fall?
What I loved is odious to me; what I loved is no more.
VIII
On the hill, from the joyful top of the oak,
I heard a bird's voice coming down:
[the voice of the] cuckoo from the hill, [whose] thought [is] with every lover.
IX
Singer of happy songs, your voice is boring to me!
Accustomed to wandering, to fleeing the hawk, oh cuckoo,
you are very noisy at Kiok haven!
X
How noisy they are, the birds!
The valleys are wet; the moon has him; how cold midnight is!
how my mind is troubled by the anguish of illness!
XI
How white is the surface of the valley!
How long the midnight hour is!
We honor every merit; but he has no right in any respect to the sleep of old age.
XII
How noisy the birds are! the shore is wet;
the leaves have fallen; the exile [seems] indifferent;
I don't hide it: I'm very ill last night.
XIII
How noisy the birds are!
The sand is wet, the firmament clear, the wave swollen:
how the heart withers with boredom!
XIV
How noisy the birds are! [It is] wet the shore;
[it is] brilliant the flow; [his] course [is] rapid;
what I did in my youth, would I love it, if I could still find it?
XV
How noisy the birds are! They smell like flesh!
How resounding is the voice of dogs in the desert?
How noisy the birds are again!
XVI
On the first of May, [when] every seed shines,
when warriors fly into battle, I do not go,
my infirmities do not allow me to do so.
XVII
On the first of May, when shining on their horses,
the warriors run to the battlefield, I do not go there,
infirmities envelop me.
XVIII
It is gray, the summit of the mountain;
it is beautiful, the top of the ash tree.
At the entrance [of the rivers] the wave is pushed back;
sweet laughter is far from my heart!
XIX
Ah! how I suffer! Today is the end of the month, it's a party;
I no longer go there: my mind is troubled;
fever is my portion.
XX
The sentry's gaze is piercing;
Let the coward brag! [for me] my mind is troubled,
the illness overwhelms me.
XXI
O riches, [you are] like the [clay] vessel that contains mead,
I don't want you. Happiness is rest.
The key to knowledge [is] tenacity.
XXII
O riches, [you are] like the [clay] vessel that contains liquor,
to the disappearing serpent, to the abundant shower, and to the deep ford.
[You are for] the mind a leaven of betrayal.
XXIII
A bad action is a leaven of betrayal;
she will find [her] punishment,
when those who sell little [things] at high prices will be purified.]
XIV
Let the liar foment treason!
when God judges in broad daylight,
lies will be placed in darkness, truth in light.
XXV
[There is] peril on [this] evil earth;
[they wear] a slave's collar, those who are joyful after drinking;
fragile reed [what] wealth in heaps!
XXVI
Listen all to the heavy wave;
that its blows are loud among the gravel and pebbles;
my mind is overwhelmed by torpor this night.
XXVII
The brow of the oak is branchy, the taste of the ash tree is bitter,
sweet the parsnip, laughing the flow:
the cheek does not hide the anguish of the heart.
XXVIII
My continual sighs tell me,
after all my dreams of happiness:
“God does not give happiness to prevaricators. »
XXIX
Happiness! to prevaricators it is not given;
[they have] only sadness and worry:
God does not undo what he has done.
XXX
He was young, the son of sorrow;
he was chief in the prince's court.
May he see God [now] when he leaves! [of the earth].
XXXI
The event depends on the work:
Whoever reads this should think carefully:
“[the object of] the hatred of man here below is the hatred of God above. »
Red Book of Hergest XIII
Song of Maenwinn
I
Maenwinn, when I was your age,
my coat was not trodden on my feet;
My land was not plowed without blood being shed.
II
Maenwinn, when I was in your position,
my youth following me,
the stranger did not break my boundary.
III
Maenwinn, when I was in your situation,
following me my youth,
the stranger did not like my anger.
IV
Maenwinn, when I was in my flower,
following the furious carnage,
I was doing the work of a man, although I was young.
V
What I liked [then] was a spearhead covered with its sheath,
[an iron] sharp as a thorn.
[So] it wasn't work for me to lift the rock.
(Maenwinn means rock lever)
VI
[Also] as a present they sent me,
from the Mévernion valley, locked in a box,
a sharp iron that is thrown by hand.
VII
Maenwinn, judge yourself with severity;
let repentance drive away the fault!
let Maelgoun look for another steward!
VIII
Bless the lonely old [woman]
who had shouted from the threshold of his cabin:
“Maenwinn, don’t give up your dagger! »
Red Book of Hergest XI
Song of Llywarc'h-Henn about his old age
I
Before I was lame on crutches,
I was eloquent at the feast; I was honored, and no wonder,
for the men of Argoed always assisted me.
II
Before I was lame on crutches,
I was fearless; I was received in the assembly of Powys,
this paradise of the Kemris.
III
Before I was lame on crutches,
I was beautiful; my spear was the first between the spears;
my back [now] arched, was the first in force;
I'm heavy! I'm miserable!
IV
O my crutch! isn't it autumn,
[that] the fern [is] red, the reed yellow?
Have I not hated what I love?
V
O my crutch! isn't it winter now,
[that] men talk after drinking?
Isn't the edge of my bed neglected?
VI
O my crutch! isn't it spring,
that the cuckoos roam [the air], that the foam [of the seas] shines?
I am no longer loved by the girl.
VII
O my crutch! isn't it the first day of May?
Are not the furrows red; does not the seed grow?
Ah! I get irritated at the sight of your butt!
VIII
O my crutch! the branch [of which you are made]
How happy is it to serve as support for a morose old man,
to Liwarc'h, the big talker?
IX
O my crutch! O hard branch! bear with me;
May God protect you, you who are called
the wood faithful to the shaky [steps]!
X
O my crutch! stand up straight,
you will support me better;
I won't be Liwarc'h for much longer!
XI
Here is old age playing on me,
from my hair to my teeth,
in my eyes that women loved.
XII
The wind whispers; the tops of the woods are white,
the deer is light; the mountain without dew,
the old man is feeble; he moves with difficulty.
XIII
Isn't this leaf being tossed around by the wind?
Woe to those who are destined to do so!
It is old, although it is of the year.
XIV
What I loved, when I was young, is odious to me:
the stranger's daughter and the gray steed;
I am no longer any good to them.
XV
The four things I hated most in my life
fall on me together:
cough and old age, sickness and sorrow.
XVI
I am old, I am alone, I am deformed and frozen;
no more bed of honor; I am miserable,
I'm folded in three.
XVII
I am an old man bent in three; I am all shaky;
I am inconsiderate; I am intractable:
whoever loved me, loves me no more;
XVIII
They don't love me anymore, young girls!
No one lifts me [from my bed]; I cannot move.
Ah! misfortune! O death! you are not favorable to me!
XIX
[Nothing] is favorable to me, neither sleep nor happiness,
since the murder of Laour and Gwenn;
I am fierce, decrepit; I am old!
XX
What a sad fate was destined for Liwarc'h,
the night he was born:
long sentences, without relief from burden!
XXI
“No longer adorn [your] plaintive songs;
let not your spirit be grieved, [if] the wind is sharp
and the harsh spring [for you] »
Ah! do not curse me, mother; I am your son!
XXII
There is no ornament to my inspiration;
[it is] in a sweet existence that we sing [well]:
it has three natural foundations, inspiration.
XXIII
You are sharp, my javelin, you are impatient to fight;
I am ready to watch at the ford of the river:
support of the weak, O God, support me!
XXIV
If you turned back, [O my spear], I would weep over you,
if you were broken, I would wail for you;
Oh! don't lose sight of the fighters!
XXV
I won't lose sight of you too, uncertain price of the battle:
when the brave has equipped his steed,
I carry the [weight of the] fight, before changing places.
XXVI
She runs, the wave along the shore;
I'm out; any plan to fight with the enemy is destroyed:
running away is the habit of the talker.
XXVII
As for me, I say:
there are sections of spears in the places where I live:
I am neither talkative nor evasive.
XXVIII
The quagmire [is] soft, the hill is hard;
under the [horse's] hoof the reed on the shore breaks;
a promise that has not been kept does not exist.
XXIX
Let the torrent spread around the walls of the fortress!
and I too am getting ready;
my shield will be broken before I step back!
XXX
Urien gave you a horn,
with a golden circle at its opening;
Breathe into it, if something bad happens to you.
XXXI
The fear [that] misfortune might happen to me from the perfidious Logriens
will not make me stain my honor;
I don't attack women!
XXXII
When I was this young man's age
who puts on gold spurs,
I pushed the javelin vigorously.
XXXIII
Truly, youth, you remained faithful to me;
you still live, and your sign is destroyed:
ah! he who is old was not weak when he was young!
Song of Liwarc'h-Henn on the death of his sons
XXXIV
Gwenn kept vigil yesterday evening on the banks of the Laouen,
where Arthur never let go;
he rushed, through the carnage, onto the green bank.
XXXV
Gwenn was watching yesterday evening on the banks of the Laouen,
his shield on his shoulder, and, as he was my son,
he was [full] of vigilance.
XXXVI
Gwenn kept watch yesterday evening on the banks of the Laouen,
the moving shield; as he was my son,
he did not flee.
XXXVII
O keen-sighted Gwenn, torment of my thoughts,
your death makes me very angry;
Do you have a parent who doesn't moan about it?
XXXVIII
Gwenn, with a large hole in her thigh, kept watch yesterday evening on the bank,
at the crossing of the Morlaz river;
and as he was my son, he did not flee.
XXXIX
O Gwenn! I know your race;
you were the eagle that swoops down at the mouth of the rivers;
If I had been happy, you would have escaped death.
XL
Let the wave break with a crash, cover the shore,
when united spears fight;
O Gwenn, woe to him who is too old to avenge you!
XLI
Let the wave break with a crash, cover the plain,
when united spears rush;
O Gwenn, woe to him who is too old, since he has lost you!
XLII
My son was a man; and he was a hero,
a generous warrior, and he was nephew of Urien:
Gwenn was killed at the Morlaz ford.
XLIII
Here is the beer made for his proud vanquished enemy,
after having surrounded it on all sides, the army of the Logrians;
here is the grave of Gwenn, son of old Liwarc'h.
XLIV
Softly sang a bird on a pear tree,
above Gwenn's head, before it was covered with grass;
he broke old Liwarc'h's heart.
XLV
I had twenty-four sons,
wearing the golden necklace and army leaders;
Gwenn was the bravest of them all.
XLVI
I had twenty-four sons,
wearing the golden necklace and war leaders;
Gwenn was the bravest; [he was] his father's son.
XLVII
I had twenty-four sons,
wearing the golden necklace and supreme leaders;
compared to Gwenn, they were children.
XLVIII
There were twenty-four sons in the family of Liwarc'h,
all people of heart, [full] of warlike fury;
their marches were secret, their glory beyond [all] measure.
XLIX
Twenty-four sons guarded my body:
by my tongue they were killed;
the measure of my misfortune is fulfilled!
L
When Peil died, it was from a large wound,
and [with] blood on his disheveled hair,
and with the clash of arms, on both banks of the Fraou.
LI
We would build a room with the remains of shields
raised on each other,
which Peil broke with his hand.
LII
The elite man among my sons,
when each of them assailed his enemy, was the beautiful Peil,
whose effort [was like] the flame that rushes towards the hearth hole.
LIII
That he placed his thigh well on the saddle of his steed,
near and far, Peil,
whose effort [was like] the flame that rushes towards the hearth hole.
LIV
How beautiful he was! that his arm was terrible in combat;
how rich his soldiers were!
It was a citadel that beautiful Peil on his horse;
what a hideous roof separates us!
LV
When he appeared at the threshold of his tent,
mounted on his gray steed,
she was proud of her husband, Peil's wife.
LVII
How many thick skulls have been crushed before Peil!
rarely the coward, the mourner keeps silence;
the weak are satisfied with nothing.
LVIII
Beautiful Hair! How far does your fame extend!
that you gave me strength! When you came [to the world],
O my son, I recognized [in you] lightning!
LIX
The three men under the sky
who best defended their home:
Peil and Selef and Sanzef.
LX
The shield that I gave to Peil,
before falling asleep [forever],
Did he not pierce it by saving his home from ruin?
LXI
When the Kemris advanced against the devastating army of the Logrians,
with many [auxiliaries] on each side,
it was Peil who gave them the momentum.
LXII
Neither Peil nor Madok lived long.
If, according to custom, we shouted to them:
“Are they [your men] surrendering? – They don’t surrender! » [they replied.]
They never asked for quarter!
LXIII
Here [rests] my son; he was without flaws.
Dearest to the bards, where would the glory of Peil not have reached,
if he had lived longer!
LXIV
Maen, and Madok and Medel [were] valiant warriors,
intrepid brothers of Selef,
Heilen, Laour and Liver.
LXIV
Gwel's grave is in Riou-Vélen;
the tomb of Souel in Langollen;
Laouer guards the Lorien fort.
LXVI
Doesn’t this thick turf hide a bloody grave?
Is the grass of Ammarc'h soiled by the tomb of Lenghédoué,
son of Liwarc'h?
LXVII
The three men of their country
who best defended their homes
were Eizar, and Ersar and Argad.
LXVIII
The three sons of Liwarc'h, all three indomitable in combat,
sad travelers all three:
Lef, and Arao and Urien.
LXIX
It would have been better, for their benefit,
be buried on the banks of the river,
in the company of gray men:
LXX
The bull of tumult, the warlord,
support in battle, the sublime torch,
the sky regulator has been listened to too much!
LXXI
At dawn, at daybreak,
when the Great Burner of cities advanced,
they were not strangled, the horses of Mer'hez.
LXXII
In front of my cabin, there is in the plain
a corpse in blood:
it is as a result of the meeting of Run and another brave man.
LXXIII
A cry rises from the top of Mount Lug,
from the top of Kenlug's tomb:
“My punishment is me who inflict it on myself!” »
LXXIV
In vain the valley is covered with snow;
warriors fly into battle:
I don't go there; the illness does not leave me.
LXXV
You are not a cleric, you, [my son],
you are not a hermit; and however]
you shall not be called ruler in the day of need;
Oh! Kenzilik! what a woman you have been!
LXXVI
[It is] far from here the haven of Leu,
further still our two clans;
Oh Talan! I deserved your tears today!
LXXVII
Since I drank the wine from my cup,
an encounter took place between men armed with spears:
like the wings of dawn, my great spear of Duok shone.
LXXVIII
I regretted having made a request [to God],
since they did not get what they wanted, [my sons]:
that their life be generously increased by a month.
LXXIX
It pleases, the language of the crow, in misfortune:
“When in the assembly[, he said,] the chief of warriors comes down,
he will deserve a cup of wine. »
LXXX
May the rider [be] victorious [in the] plain!
as long as God wills my good,
I will not feed, like the swine, on acorns!
LXXXI
– O old Liwarc’h, do not be discouraged;
you will soon find a sweet retirement;
dry your eye; shut up, don't cry.
LXXXII
– I’m old, I didn’t recognize you;
the gift, in my opinion, [which suits me, is] a tomb; I implore him:
Urien is dead! The pain [weighs] on me!
LXXXIII
– Is it your opinion to consult the crow,
with a sinister and screaming song?
They are all dead, the sons of Urien!
LXXXIV
– He does not believe the crow, he does not believe Dunod;
he will not obtain protection from it,
the feeble shepherd [who was once] a traveling man-at-arms.
LXXXV
– Here is [the church of] Lanvor beyond this river
of which the sea glory;
[but] I don't know [if you have anything] in common with her.
LXXXVI
– [Yes,] here is Lanvor, the majestic,
where Kloued joins Klévédok;
I don't know if I have anything in common with her.
LXXXVII
– The Deverdoui has overcome its banks;
[he rode] from Melor'h to Traweren,
O feeble shepherd, once a traveling man-at-arms.
LXXXVIII
Ah! what a sad fate was destined for Liwarc'h,
the night he was born:
long sentences without relief from burden!
LXXXVIV
My shield is very thin on my right side!
I am very old! and yet, if I may,
I will watch over the banks of Morlaz!
Black Book of Caermarthen XXII
Red Book of Hergest XIV
Death song of Ghérent, son of Erbin
I
When Ghérent was born, the doors of heaven opened;
Christ granted what was asked of him:
happy times, glory to the Brittany.
II
Let everyone celebrate the red Ghérent, the army leader;
I myself celebrate the red Ghérent, the army leader;
I myself celebrate Gherent, the enemy of the Saxons, the friend of the Saints.
III
Before Ghérent, merciless towards the enemy,
I saw the horses [threatened] with a common disaster by the battle,
and, after the war cry, a tough effort.
IV
Before Ghérent, fear of the enemy,
I saw the horses under [the blow of a] common disaster,
and, after the war cry, a furious resistance.
V
Before Ghérent, scourge of the enemy,
I saw the horses white with foam,
and, after the war cry, a furious torrent [of warriors].
VI
At LongPort I saw tumult,
and corpses [swimming] in blood,
and men red [with blood] before the enemy assault.
VII
At Longport I saw the carnage,
and corpses in large numbers,
and men red [with blood] before the assault of Ghérent.
VIII
At Longport I saw the blood flow,
and corpses before the weapons,
and men red [with blood] before the onslaught of Death.
IX
At Longport I saw the spurs of men
who did not shrink from the fear of spears,
and who had drunk wine from shining glasses.
X
At Longport I saw a thick vapor [rising],
and men enduring deprivation
and lack after abundance.
XI
At Longport, I saw [the weapons of the warriors shine,
and [flow] blood in the valleys,
and, after the war cry, a terrible conflagration.
XII
At Longport I saw the engagement,
men in turmoil and blood on their cheeks,
in front of Ghérent, the illustrious son of his father.
XIII
At Longport I saw tumult;
on the rocks the crows feasting;
and, on the eyebrow of the general in chief, a red spot.
XIV
In Longport I saw a rolling press
of men gathered together, and blood on their feet:
“Let those who are the warriors of Ghérent hurry! »
XV
At Longport I saw a tumultuous conflict of men united,
blood up to both knees,
before the assault of Erbin's great son.
XVI
At Longport Ghérent was killed,
the valiant warrior of the wooded country of Domnonée,
killing them, they killed him.
XVII
At Longport valiant soldiers were killed at Arthur
which cut with steel;
[to Arthur] the generalissimo, the conductor of the works [of the war].
XVIII
The steeds were light under Ghérent's thigh,
high on legs [fed on] barley grain,
impetuous [like the] brush fire on the desert mountain.
XIX
The steeds were light under Ghérent's thigh,
high on legs [fed with] large grains, red,
impetuous [like] strong eagles.
XX
The steeds were light under Ghérent's thigh,
high on legs [fed with] fatty, red grains,
impetuous [like the] white eagles.
XXI
The steeds were light under Ghérent's thigh,
high on legs [fed with] winnowed grain, red,
impetuous [like the] red eagles.
XXII
The steeds were light under Ghérent's thigh,
high legged; grain was their food; [they were] red,
impetuous [like the] gray eagles.
XXIII
The steeds were light under Ghérent's thigh,
high on legs [fed with] excellent grain, red,
impetuous [like the] blue eagles.
XXIV
The steeds were light under Ghérent's thigh,
high on legs fed with grain, red,
impetuous [like the] black eagles.
XXV
The steeds were light under Ghérent's thigh,
high on legs [fed with] grain of wheat, red,
impetuous [like the] spotted eagles.
XXVI
The steeds were light under Ghérent's thigh,
high legs [fed with] grain as desired, gray;
[and they wore on] the ends of their manes [ornaments] of silver.
Red Book of Hergest XII
Death song of Urien de Reghed
I
Ahead ! terrible Unour’h!
[good] countenance in battle!
better to kill than to parley!
II
Ahead ! terrible Unour’h!
we shouted from the threshold of Ler'h:
“Dunod, the son of Pabo, never backs down. »
III
Ahead ! terrible Unour’h!
He was bitter, [he was] dark as the laughter of the sea,
the tumult of war [around] strong-wristed Urien.
IV
[It was], Unour'h, a powerful, brave, generous eagle;
a pursuer [always] victorious, in fierce battles;
than Urien with the strong wrist;
V
It was Unour'h, a powerful eagle, full of intelligence,
as well on the shore of the seas
than in the defiles and the green plains.
VI
I carry at my side the head of him
who commanded the attack between two armies,
[the head] of the son of Kenvarc'h who lived magnanimously.
VII
I carry Urien's head on my side
who gently commanded the army:
on his white chest, a black raven!
VIII
I wear Urien's head in my tunic
who gently commanded the court;
on its white breast the raven gorges itself.
IX
I carry a head in my hand
who was never at rest:
rot eats away at the chief's chest.
X
On the side of my thigh I carry a head
who was a shield for his country, a pillar in battle,
a sword of battle for his free compatriots.
XI
I carry on my left a better head, while he was alive,
what was his mead;
[a head] which was a citadel for old men.
XII
I carry, from the promontory of Pennok,
a leader whose armies are famous far and wide;
the eloquent leader of Urien [whose] fame runs [throughout the world].
XIII
I carry a head on my shoulder
which did not make me ashamed:
woe to my hand! my master is killed!
XIV
The head that I carry on my arm
Did she not conquer the land of the Bernicians?
After the war cry, the horses [drag] hearses.
XV
I carry in the palm of my hand a head
who gently commanded his country,
the head of a powerful pillar of Brittany.
XVI
The head that I carry at the end of a black pike
is the head of Urien, the sublime Dragon (that is to say the chief of chiefs).
Ah! until the day of judgment comes, I will not be silent!
XVII
The head that I carry carried me; I will never find her again;
he will no longer come to my aid.
Woe to my hand! my shield is taken from me!
XVIII
The head that I carry from the slope of the mountain
has a mouth foaming with blood;
woe to Rheged today!
XIX
My arm is not weakened; [but] my rest is disturbed;
my heart, are you not breaking?
The head that I wear has carried me!
XX
Her delicate, white body will be covered today
mortar and stones;
woe to my hand! Owen's father is killed!
XXI
Her delicate, white body will be covered today
mortar and oak;
woe to my hand! my first cousin is killed!
XXII
Her delicate, white body will be covered tonight
of selected stones;
woe to my hand! What a fall was I destined for!
XXIII
Her delicate, white body will be covered tonight
mortar and thick turf;
woe to my hand! Kenvarc'h's son is killed!
XXIV
Her delicate, white body will be covered today
mottes surmounted by a sign;
woe to my hand! my lord is slain!
XXV
Her delicate, white body will be covered tonight
mortar and gravel; woe to my hand!
What a fall was in store for me!
XXVI
Her delicate, white body will be covered today
mortar and nettles; woe to my hand!
What a fall for my power!
XXVII
Her delicate, white body will be covered today
mortar and blue stones; woe to my hand!
What a fall for my power!
XXVIII
Order has been [given]; the brother began to pursue,
with the sound of the buffalo horn, [the horn] of the feast,
the wild beast that devastated Dark Rheged.
XXIX
Order has been [given]; the brother started to pursue
to the sound of the blaring buffalo horn
the wild beast that stripped the men of Rheged.
XXX
For Eurzel, she is in pain this night,
private as it is from the army chief:
at the harbor of Leu Urien was killed.
XXXI
She is sad, this night, Eurzel, after the tribulations
and the fall that was reserved for me:
at the harbor of Leu his brother was killed.
XXXII
Friday I saw great anxiety
among the baptized armies,
similar to a swarm without a hive.
XXXIII
Have I not received from Run, the illustrious warrior,
a hundred swarms and a hundred golden shields?
But one of these swarms was worth much more [than the others].
XXXIV
Have I not received from Run, the famous king,
a hundred villages and a hundred estates?
But one of them was better than all.
XXXV
When Run, the tireless runner, lived,
the wicked fell into his traps;
he chained the horses of injustice.
XXXVI
My genius, I know, is great;
to hear everyone of every age,
no one knows anything more than me.
XXXVII
What efforts did Dunod, the fast rider, make?
impatient to make corpses,
in front of the hot Owen!
XXXVIII
What efforts did Dunod make,
the impetuous leader, eager to hinder [the enemy]
opposite Pasken, impetuous like him!
XXXIX
What efforts did Gwallok, the rider of the tumult,
impatient to build a rampart
in front of Elfin, impetuous like him!
XL
What efforts Bran, the son of Mellern, was making!
He was a burning demon from hell,
a wolf suffocating under its burden.
XLI
What efforts Morgant made, he and his warriors!
He was, by temperament, a burning demon,
a lever attacking rocks.
XLII
What efforts did I make when Elgno was killed!
when Peil's radiant blade whirled,
this tent of his country!
XLIII
I live again, after the action,
the golden shield on Urien's shoulder.
There was a second Elgno-henn.
XLIV
Hair stood on end with fear
[at the sight] of the terrible warrior;
will there ever be a second Urien?
XLV
Although my lord was bald from his green youth,
the warriors did not like his anger;
many sovereigns were defeated by him.
XLVI
Urien's misfortune is a misfortune for me.
Let us do research in each canton,
to discover Lovan by foreign hands!
XLVIII
Silence to you, inspiring breath!
Songs of praise will be rare from now on,
except for Urien who is no more!
XLIX
More than one hunting dog, and more than one gray hawk
were drawn by him to the [battlefield],
before [the town of] Kerléon was desolate.
L
This home where the goat attaches itself,
was more accustomed to seeing around him
mead and drinkers chattering.
LI
Isn't this hearth covered with nettles?
As long as its guardian lived,
he was accustomed to solicitors.
LII
Isn't this fireplace covered with grass?
As long as Owen and Elfin lived,
in his cauldron the venison was boiling.
LIII
Isn't this fireplace covered in moldy mushrooms?
He was accustomed [to hearing] around the table
the sound of the terrible sword of the fearless [warrior].
LIV
Isn't this hearth covered by a hedge of brambles?
It was [filled] with firewood;
he was accustomed to the gifts of liberality.
LVI
Isn't this hearth covered with thorns?
He was more accustomed to the visit
good companions of Owen.
LVII
Isn't this home covered in ants?
He was more accustomed to bright torches
and at friends’ banquets.
LVIII
Isn't this hearth covered with wild sorrel?
He was more accustomed to seeing around him
mead and drinkers chattering.
LIX
Is not this hearth plowed by swine?
He was more accustomed to the cry of warriors,
and to the horn circulating in the banquet.
LX
Isn't this hearth scratched by the chicken?
He did not suffer from scarcity,
when Owen and Urien lived;
LXI
[So] this room and this other were more accustomed
to the cheers of the army
and at bard concerts!
EN 
FR 
ES