The Poet and the Grey Friar | |
Woe is me that the celebrated | |
maiden, whose court is in the grove, | |
does not know about the conversation | |
4 | with the mouse–coloured friar about her today. |
I went to the Friar | |
to confess my sin. | |
I did admit to him, indeed, | |
8 | that I was a sort of poet, |
and that I had long loved | |
a white–faced black–browed girl, | |
and that for the life of me | |
12 | I could get no favour or satisfaction from the lady, |
but only loving her constantly | |
and pining greatly for her love, | |
and carrying her praise throughout Wales | |
16 | and being without her for all that, |
and longing to feel her | |
in my bed between me and the wall. | |
The Friar said to me, | |
20 | 'I will give you good council. |
If you have loved the foam–hued one, | |
colour of paper, for a long time until now, | |
reduce the pain of the day to come, | |
24 | it is good for your soul to stop, |
and leave your cywyddau | |
and start saying your prayers. | |
God did not redeem man's soul | |
28 | for the sake of a cywydd or an englyn. |
Your songs, you minstrels, | |
are nothing but nonsense and vain voices, | |
and inciting men and women | |
32 | to sin and falsehood. |
Praise of the flesh which carries the soul | |
to the devil is no good thing'. | |
I did answer the Friar | |
36 | for every word that he said. |
'God is not as cruel | |
as old men say. | |
God will not let a gentle man's soul | |
40 | be lost for loving a woman or a maiden. |
Three things are loved throughout the world: | |
woman and fine weather and health. | |
A girl is the fairest flower | |
44 | in heaven besides God himself. |
Every man was born of woman | |
of all the peoples except three men. | |
And for that reason it is no wonder | |
48 | that girls and women are loved. |
All gaiety comes from heaven | |
and all sadness from hell. | |
Song gladdens the hearts | |
52 | of old and young, sick and healthy. |
It is just as fitting for me to sing poems | |
as it is for you to preach sermons, | |
and just as right for me to live by minstrelsy | |
56 | as it is for you to live by begging. |
What are the hymns and sequences | |
but englynion and odes, | |
and are not the psalms of the Prophet David | |
60 | cywyddau to holy God? |
God does not feed every man | |
with the same food and delicacies. | |
There is a time for food | |
64 | and a time for prayer, |
and a time for preaching | |
and a time for making merry. | |
Song is sung in every feast | |
68 | to entertain young girls, |
and a pater noster in church | |
to seek the land of Paradise. | |
It is true what Ystudfach said | |
72 | when carousing with his poets, |
'The joyful man will have a full house, | |
and misfortune will come to the sad man'. | |
Though some love holiness | |
76 | others love merriment. |
Very few know a sweet cywydd | |
and everyone knows his pater. | |
And therefore, you dogmatic Friar, | |
80 | song is not the greatest sin. |
When everyone is as glad | |
to hear a pater to harp accompaniment | |
as the young girls of Gwynedd are | |
84 | to hear a merry cywydd |
I will sing, by my hand, | |
the pater without end. | |
Until then shame on Dafydd | |
88 | if he sings a pater rather than a cywydd. |