English Translation: 56 - Y Fiaren

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The Briar

A loveless journey, I courted a Tegau,
complaint resulting from a gentle pact, I remember it well,
a lovely tender embrace,
4gift of a proud one, no shallow love.
I made a firm decision,
the memory causes long sleeplessness,
distressing favour, the intent was faultless,
8to go on a journey to make love to a fair girl.
A regretful path to make love,
it was a tiresome morning's journey,
splendid gift, kindly work,
12while the day was still young,
hope is a fine thing, before anyone in my area
knew where I intended to go.

I was about to make my way to the court
16to try to see the slim beauty, bright treasure,
fine wealth, so I thought,
[though] it's no easy matter to gain access by trust,
bitter deceit is more likely, as well I know,
20the result above the high ground was worse.
Having heard praise of the shining girl's love
I avoided meeting a single soul,
secret profit, cunning stratagem,
24I was very skilful.

I left the main road and popular path
and made my own way yonder.
I walked amongst the oak saplings
28along hollows and tumps for miles,
from the edge of the valley to the lovely chancel [of the woods]
along a non–existent path between hill and church.
The track made me seek the shade
32of the thick dark trees, overpowering love.
I stumbled over one of them
into the briars for a maiden's sake.
It dug clingingly into me by the slope,
36horrid ugly thing, hedge's intestine,
with its tight grip, like an ensnaring thong,
diseased spectre.
Swift its teeth above a bank,
40omen of shame, although it looks thin,
it gave me a nasty lesson in limping,
my lust was in vain, and it caught me tight.
On the brink of the valley, wild wood,
44it twisted itself round my legs.

I fell and tumbled there
head over heels all of a sudden
on the brink of the valley, nasty accident,
48it was hard to move easily, tenacious assault.
Shame on the filthy churlish thing!
It snared a poet and left its mark on me.
It deserved no peace because of the way
52its thousand teeth, sorry tale,
wounded my two legs,
harsh scorn, stupid tugging.
Its crop is tiresome and horrible,
56blackberry fruit with its silly shape and colour;
too troublesome withe,
agonising is the pain caused by the bush's hair band.
Vicious is the way it scratches trees,
60halter from a miser's barren field;
leg of a dour heron under the signs of the stars,
vain clinging branches;
net–line thrown away in anger,
64snare on the slope of field's peak;
tether, it was in a gap,
string of the trees of the valley, it was strong.

May there soon be a fire, the lanky lout,
68it gave me a nasty reward,
spiky sharp–toothed one which cost me dear,
which will burn it to avenge my wrath.