The Foster-son
Love is mine in fosterage,
a brash, spoilt foster-son,
a handsome boy, most uncouth,
4 handed over to me by an amorous slender maid.
Today (no good denying)
because of longing, love is my foster-son.
My foster-son (scowl of distress)
8 has caused me great harm:
demanding to be borne for a girl's sake,
demanding to wait for a greeting;
demanding to wander in bracken,
12 demanding to be seduced by a girl;
my travail is too great by far,
demanding to be concealed and found;
the fair maid knows all about my courtesy,
16 demanding to be jealous in silence.
I have nurtured love (how I've pined)
like a foster-son, poetry of betrayal.
To nurture a fair tame serpent
20 in a bosom, because of love for a gentle girl,
was for me to foster (forsaking my own well-being)
in my bosom a slim lovely young boy.
This boy (and I will prove it)
24 is strange in his ways during a summer month:
love does not wish to be denied
or revealed to a great crowd;
he won't budge from the heart's confines,
28 he lives only in the top of my bosom;
he cannot remain still,
he won't calm down after song;
he would not sit even if he were the Pope,
32 he won't lie down, my unchaste son;
splendid love (of gentle nature)
won't stand, and won't wait for a maiden's labour.
I've increased her praise as far as the river Teifi,
36 I'm foster-father to the girl's love.
He is still (I've been anxious)
a difficult son to nurture between my ribs.
This year he is restless,
40 the son I've raised as my own.
I've raised (I'm a passionate, handsome man)
the dear son of the slim-browed maid.
I've received scant reward (shining jewel)
44 for raising a son for her.
A curse (splendidly nurtured love)
upon the girl who put him into fosterage,
unless she's willing to pay (plenty of care for a multitude)
-
48 this is my threat - for raising him.