The Husbandry of Love
I have been loving, though I am languishing,
and I am [now loving] more or twice more [than before];
watching over a very gentle love,
4 pain's cripple, clear offspring of memory.
I have kept love in my breast,
deceiver, gnawer of flesh.
It's increasing (it knew pain)
8 in my breast (mother of deceit)
quicker than the growth (a powerful creation)
of a rod on a thick-topped planted tree.
It was my aim to seek a crop of love
12 appropriately and continuously.
I have made a winter tilth (with due care),
a payment of painful passion.
The brave, joyful and profound breast was ploughed
16 (a deep stroke of ash-wood) in one furrow.
The ploughshare is in my heart
and the coulter of love [is] above the slopes.
On the right breast (sudden wound)
20 [there is] sowing and harrowing of a flood of passion,
and a fine, perfect and wise plough
to fallow the other breast.
And in three months (a mind's bright choice)
24 in springtime (pain of sleepless deceit)
anguish took root in me;
a field kills me, passion's mockery.
I shall have nothing but trouble from great love,
28 no-one believes how busy love is
between the tenure (hidden nourishment of sorrow)
of January and Morfudd's love.
On May Day, lest I should in any way willingly have
32 a period of idleness in my life,
I made an enclosure (lively violence of foolish pride)
around it, I am a lonely man.
While the love of this generous girl
36 (a lame man's condition) throughout my breast
was lively, fair and flourishing (I'm not concerned)
[and] maturely abundant,
I went to and fro (I did not postpone [paying] wages)
40 [about] the arrangements for the reaping party of pain.
The complete loss of all the wheat was sad,
the pourer of the world is always tribulation.
The wind came (the long journey of a thunder-bolt)
44 from the south of a heart broken in two.
And two stars of love (a lover's anguish)
darkened in my head:
floodgates of bitterly flowing tears,
48 eyes, passion's swimmers.
They looked (a picture of flooding)
at Morfudd, gentle golden girl,
chimneys of floodwaters,
52 laborious, talentless streams.
Bad weather from the angry west (an armful of woe)
was cruel for the stubble,
and heavy, sad and constant rain comes
56 from the eastern sky to cheeks.
This breast tonight has been beaten
by blue water (a remorseful conclusion).
Under my breast is the concentration of pain,
60 my eyes leave no bundle of dry wheat.
Flowing tears for [a girl with] Eigr's appearance do not allow
(spoilt crop) any sleep for an eye.
O love (deceitful seeds),
64 after the pain, woe is you because of the thought
that I could not (strong pain of betrayal)
gather you between two showers.
The good, long-lasting love has fallen;
68 I have been deceived about sustenance.