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The Spoils Of Anwen (Annwfn)
Taliesin
I praise the Lord, the Sovereign of the royal realm, Who has extended his sway over the tract of the world. Gwair's prison in Caer Siddi was in order Throughout the course of the story concerning Pwyll and Pryderi. No-one before him went into it - Into the heavy grey chain which was restraining the loyal youth. And on account of the spoils of Annwfn he was singing bitterly And our poetic invocation shall continue until Judgement-Day.
We went, three full loads of Prydwen, into it;I am one who is splendid in fame: the song was heard In the four-turreted fort, fully revolving. It was concerning the cauldron that my first utterance was spoken: It was kindled by the breath of nine maidens. The cauldron of the Chieftain of Annwfn: what is its faculty? Dark knotwork and pearls around its rim -
It will not boil the food of a coward;
And when we went with Arthur - resplendent toil -I am one who is splendid in (making) fame: the song is heard In the four-turreted fort, the island of the radiant door. Fresh water and jet are mixed. Sparkling wine (is) their drink (set) before their host.
We went, three full loads of Prydwen, by sea;I deserve better than readers concerned with the literature of the Lord Who had not seen Arthur's valour beyond the Glass Fort. Six thousand men were standing on its wall; It was difficult to converse with its watchman.
Three full loads of Prydwen went with Arthur;I deserve better than readers, their shields hanging down, Who do not know on what day ... What time ... was born ... Who made them who did not go to Dolau Defwy. They do not know about the brindled ox, stout his collar... Seven score links in its fastening.
And when we went with Arthur - a lamentable expedition -I deserve better than readers, feeble their intent, Who do not know on which day the Lord was created. What time ... the owner was born, What animal they guard, silver its head.
When we went with Arthur - a woeful encounter-Monks throng together like a wolf pack Because of the encounter of the masters to whom is made known Whether the wind goes along a single path, whether the sea is a single mass of water, Whether fire - an invincible tumult - is composed of a single spark.
Monks throng together like wolves I praise the Lord,
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