ywau, {200a} of gallant bravery,
Let Tre Essyd be ours in one entire dale. {200b}
Since the stabbing of the delight of the bulwark of battle,
Since Aneurin was under ground, {200c}
My voice has not been divorced from Gododin.

XCIV.

Echo speaks of the formidable {200d} and dragon-like {200e} weapons,
And of the fair game, {200f} which was played in front of the unclaimed
course of Gododin.
Profusely did he bring a supply {200g} of wine into the tents, for the
benefit of the natives, {200h}
In the season of the storm, as long as it trickled from the vessels,
And the army, a well nourished host, continued to drop in.
A splendid troop of warriors, successful against a hundred men,
Is led from Dindovydd in Dyvneint. {201a}
Before Doleu {201b} in battle, worn out were the shields, and battered
the helmets.

XCV.

He brought ruin upon every fair region, {201c}
And a fettering valour he displayed;
The front of his shield was pierced;
Caso Hir, arrayed in pomp, {201d}
Protected Rhuvoniawg.
A second time were they wounded, {201e} and crushed
By his warlike steeds, and gore-stained were their coffins. {201f}
Always immoveable, always liberal of aid,
Would be his gallant nobles, when roused to anger.
Severe in the conflict, with blades he slaughtered;
And agonising news from the war he brought,
Which he wove into a hundred songs for the calends of January.
Adan {202a} the son of Urvei there did pierce,
Adan pierced the haughty boar,
Even he who was like Urien, {202b} a maid, and a hero.
And as the youth was thus endowed with the properties of a king,
Lord of Gwynedd, and of the blood of Cilydd, {202c} he proved our
deliverer;
Ere the turf was laid upon the face of the generous dead,
Wisely did he seek the field, with praise and high sounding fame:
The grave of Gorthyn Hir {202d} is seen {202e} from the highlands of
Rhuvoniawg.

XCVI.

On account of the piercing of the skilful and most learned man, {203a}
On account of the fair corpse, which fell prostrate upon the ground,
Thrice six officers judged the atrocious deed {203b} at the hour of
mattins,
And Morien lifted up again his ancient lance,
And, roaring, stretched out {203c} death
Towards the warriors, the Gwyddyl, {203d} and the Prydyn; {203e}
Whilst towards the lovely, slender, blood-stained body of Gwen,
Sighed Gwenabwy, the only son of Gwen.

XCVII.

On account of the afflicting {203f} of the skilful and most learned man
Grievo