Translations into English Verse from the Poems of Davyth ap Gwilym/Bardic Controversies
BARDIC CONTROVERSIES.
THE CONTROVERSY BETWEEN DAVYTH AP GWILYM AND GRYFFYTH GRYG.
This poetical dispute consists chiefly of terms of abuse; the following, however, the first poem by Gryffyth, has some naïveté and humour, and may serve as a specimen of the style in which these poetical quarrels were carried on.
GRYFFYTH GRYG’S SATIRE ON DAVYTH AP GWILYM.
This sad and simple bard of ours,
In song—a thousand sorrows kill him,
Despair o’er all his visions lowers,
And yet—he lives—the sweet ap Gwilym!
Still lives, and woos, and loves, and sings:
And though he suffers ten times more
Than Cambrian e’er endured before—
No sickness stops his carollings!
Pangs, numerous as the stars of night,
Consume the body of the wight!
And yet this tuneful man of sorrow,
From love—draws every pang and pain,
And thus, though slain to-day—to-morrow
He lives to groan and grieve again!
This warrior, against arms more stern
Than Morvyth wields, his fame must earn!
Were he—as oft he boasts in sighs—
A man of martial enterprise,
With goodly shaft and steady bow
His love and chivalry he’d shew!
The following poems, which were originally published in the Cambrian Quarterly Magazine, may serve as a more interesting specimen of the poetical quarrels of the Welsh bards.
CONTROVERSY BETWEEN TWO BARDS, THE LOVERS OF GWEN OF DOL.
Two bards were in love with this lady; one of them sent a peacock to her as a ‘llatai,’ or love messenger. As soon as his rival gained intelligence of this, he addressed himself to the fox in a strain, of which the following is an imitation, entreating him to murder the peacock.
TO THE FOX.
Most dainty thief, with dusky tail,
Wouldst thou on choicest food regale—
In lonely grove romantic dine—
To Dol thy lordly limbs incline!
Plump ducks thy crafty taste have fed
(As well thy dignity becomes);
All birds that skim the mountain’s head
Please thy white paunch and lordly gums;
Though wisdom dwells in thine own yellow sconce,
Yet, reynard, list to friendly tale for once:
The beauteous Elen[1] of my heart,
Fair as the waxen forms of art,
I love with all devotion true—
But, ah! another loves her too!
A rival—mid wild Snowdon dwelling,
A minstrel of his Awen[2] vain,
But still a bard, most bards excelling,—
Of him, sir envoy, I complain!
Dog of the earth, three choicest geese,
With a good lamb of fairest fleece,
To thee I’ll give—then mid the fern,
By Dol thy wages neatly earn;
But be penurious of thy sounds,
Beware of Eithig[3] and his hounds!
And when the worm-fed bird appears,
Then homeward chase from grove to grove,
And seize and slay with dental sheers,
The bright deluder of my love!
It would appear that the fox faithfully performed his commission; for Rhys Goch of Eryri, or Red Rhys of Snowdon, the other bard, has left us an ode in which he abuses the fox for killing his peacock. This poem is composed of such harsh sounds, that Sion Tudur, another bard, humorously termed it the ‘Shibboleth of Sobriety,’ because no man, when drunk, could possibly pronounce it.
RHYS GOCH TO THE FOX.
The wretch, my starry bird who slew,
Beast of the flameless embers’ hue!
Assassin! glutton of the night,
Mixed of all creatures that defile!
Land lobster! fugitive of light,
Thou coward mountain crocodile!
With downcast eye and ragged tail,
That haunt’st the hollow rocks,
Thief, ever ready to assail
The undefended flocks!
Thy brass-hued breast and tattered locks
Shall not protect thee from the hound,
When, with unbaffled eye, he mocks
Thy mazy fortress under ground;
Whilst o’er my peacock’s shattered plumes shall shine
A fretted bower of brightest eglantine!