The Briar

	A loveless journey, I courted a Tegau,

	complaint resulting from a gentle pact, I remember it well,

	a lovely tender embrace,

4	gift of a proud one, no shallow love.

	I made a firm decision,

	the memory causes long sleeplessness,

	distressing favour, the intent was faultless,

8	to 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,

12	while 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

16	to 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,

20	the 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,

24	I was very skilful.

	I left the main road and popular path

	and made my own way yonder.

	I walked amongst the oak saplings

28	along 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

32	of 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,

36	horrid ugly thing, hedge's intestine,

	with its tight grip, like an ensnaring thong,

	diseased spectre.

	Swift its teeth above a bank,

40	omen 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,

44	it 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,

48	it 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

52	its thousand teeth, sorry tale,

	wounded my two legs,

	harsh scorn, stupid tugging.

	Its crop is tiresome and horrible,

56	blackberry 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,

60	halter 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,

64	snare 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,

68	it gave me a nasty reward,

	spiky sharp–toothed one which cost me dear,

	which will burn it to avenge my wrath.