Translations into English Verse from the Poems of Davyth ap Gwilym/The Dream

Translations into English Verse from the Poems of Davyth ap Gwilym
by Dafydd ap Gwilym, translated by Arthur James Johnes
3993802Translations into English Verse from the Poems of Davyth ap GwilymArthur James JohnesDafydd ap Gwilym

THE DREAM.


The bard is visited by a terrific vision. He awakes, and deplores Morvyth’s marriage with Hunchback.


As yester eve I journey’d late,
To shun the edged and naked blast,
Amid the fern my limbs I cast,
And as I lay it was my fate
(The earth my couch, the grove my bower,)
To fall asleep—I slept an hour.
And there I saw a dream of fear:
Sudden my place of slumber near
A pallid flood appears to quiver,
And rolling on to threat me seems
With billows mighty as the streams
That rise in Taf’s o’erflooded river;
Like bulls, in fury and in might,
The breakers seem intent to mite;
Out from a hundred glens they speed;
Then was I desolate indeed!

Into the billows rough and wild
I fell, with many a frantic call—
Hoar-headed billows steeply piled—
Alas! it was a dreadful fall!
And with the breakers fierce and strong
I buffetted and struggled long;
And oft I prayed to Christ to save
And give me strength against the wave.
But ceaseless struggles robbed at length
My heart of hope, my limbs of strength;
My breast the rocks of ocean tore,
And ocean’s host of billows hoar.
I saw the day-light disappear,
And night with hideous gloom draw near;
The wind with loud and wrathful shout
Waged battle with the deluge stout.
I rode upon the billow’s breast,
Until at last, by waves oppressed,
I sunk as evening closed around,
And death amid the darkness found.
At dawn awaking from the pain
And terror that had racked my brain,
With mournful heart I learned too well
The meaning of that dream to spell.
Long years a constant suit I’ve paid
To Morvyth, the ungrateful maid[1].

*****

Oh! I could read the vision well!
Her kindred heartless hostile men,
These are the floods that on me fell
From every hill and hollow glen;

These are the waves I had to fight
In that dread vision of the night!
And still, fantastic fool! I tread
Too deep, too deep, as in the dream;
A weight of waters o’er my head,
Still strive to swim against the stream!
Again I’ll plunge—but not in sleep—
For ever in Taf’s billows deep!

  1. A number of lines containing a mere repetition of his grievances are here omitted.