| A Girl taunts him for his Cowardice | |
| Modest maid, lovely slender lady, | |
| dark–browed, adorned with gold and jewels, | |
| consider, Eigr, store of counting stones, | |
| 4 | beneath your golden hair, whether there is any payment coming to me |
| (firm reproach in a clear voice) | |
| face like a jewel, for what I sang | |
| to your bright colour, brilliant language, | |
| 8 | and to your fine form, eight times brighter than the colour of gossamer. |
| 'I will forsake you for a long time, Dafydd. | |
| Love is deranged. You are taunted | |
| with being too cowardly, disciplined reputation, | |
| 12 | well aware of hinderances. |
| None but the bravest shall have me, | |
| with God's protection, you're a strange one.' | |
| 'You with the hood of fine hair the colour of gossamer, | |
| 16 | you do me wrong, chopsy girl. |
| Although I'm a cowardly lad in battle, | |
| tender and refined, unprotected breast, | |
| I'm no coward at the work of Ovid's book | |
| 20 | where the trees are green and fresh. |
| And also, likeness of Eigr, | |
| remember, fitting reward, | |
| provoking pain, that it is never wise to love | |
| 24 | a brave lad, and it was grim torment, |
| lest the warrior should be too cruel, | |
| not a nice thing to acknowledge. | |
| He will be wild-natured and too savage. | |
| 28 | He will love war and conflict. |
| If he hears, strict conscription, | |
| that there is battle in France or Scotland, | |
| a challenge for a mighty man, | |
| 32 | he'll head straight off there to enlist in the ranks. |
| Should he escape and come back | |
| from there, he can bridle Frenchmen, | |
| he'll be scarred, an archer will leave his mark on him, | |
| 36 | and bloody, you fine bright girl. |
| He'll have more affection for his heavy spear | |
| And his sword (woe who puts faith in him) | |
| and mail coat and dark shield | |
| 40 | and war horse than for a pretty girl. |
| He won't protect you when cry of anguish comes, | |
| he won't take you from your home except by force. | |
| I on the other hand with my eloquent words, | |
| 44 | were I to win you, colour of shining bright gossamer, |
| I could protect you forever, | |
| I'd produce true praise, come girl. | |
| Were I to gain two kingdoms | |
| 48 | by firm possession, you of Deifr's colour, |
| twice as bright as the sun and eight times brighter than day, | |
| they wouldn't make me go from your fine house.' | |