Elegy for Madog Benfras
All this world is nothing but
a fragile delusive sieve.
The joyful young man tonight,
4 carefree as he may be,
a nightmare, swift cruel grief,
he will drop dead tomorrow.
Why does brilliant poetic inspiration disturb me,
8 sweet form, bright firm path,
a twin's bardic cry, because of Madog Benfras?
There was never a better minstrel.
He was brave and generous, oppression of verse,
12 there will never be another man like Madog
for mastery of a multitude of metres,
for good song, and it was manifest,
for thoroughly learned love-poetry,
16 for abundant entertainment and followers,
for love above all others,
the reputation of his wisdom was prodigious.
Dour is my cry this year
20 that Madog has been taken, he was faultless,
the trees are in mourning for men's teacher.
No living pupil can bring forth [a poem].
Clear song, sovereign of sense,
24 eloquent peacock, was he not guileless?
Battle's gimlet, tender heart,
plane of reason and song;
haven's brace and cruck, scenes of wine flowing,
28 his song as sweet as that of Myrddin,
and May's choice candle
and the trumpet and horn of poetry,
and chancel of passion and love
32 and colourer of song, and the host [is now] divided.
Sweet-sounding organ, jewel of the refined ones,
chieftain of poets' poetry.
Gold will be scarce, he merited payment,
36 the small leaves of May will be without succour;
Joyless poets will have no place of welcome,
the world will have no cywydd;
the sweet little nightingale will be songless,
40 Eigr will have no one to praise her [because of] the spread of disease;
birch trees will be without honour, none will preserve them,
the ash grove once so fine will be without hope.
Bright support, chapel of poetic inspiration,
44 compared to him everyone is copper; [every] girl is empty-handed.
If the world were thus - he has gone -
all the lands would be vulgar because he lived not.
Woe to the band of poets! His poetic voice was fine.
48 He has been left in the company of God.