| Gruffydd Gryg's Fourth Debate Poem | |
| Gweirful, a lady of wise intention, | |
| woe that, beautiful wisdom, | |
| I have to, for some time, | |
| 4 | delay in writing poetry to you; you are a lady. |
| Plenty of poems came to you from my tongue, | |
| and how I loved you, by Mary! | |
| But there came a twist, there's a bad angel | |
| 8 | preventing poetry, hidden looseness: |
| Weak Dafydd ap Gwilym, | |
| he prevents me, because of enmity, | |
| from singing satire to anyone who deserves it, | |
| 12 | or singing at all, more than the flow of the sea. |
| Don't sulk, the hue of the fair moonlight, | |
| Gweirful, for your faithful poet. | |
| Whilst I'm satirizing full time, | |
| 16 | farewell to you, I'm unworthy of mention. |
| Tudur Goch, leprous badger of the worthless poets, | |
| son of Iorwerth, stringy wax stomach, | |
| I complain that I can't, because of distress, | |
| 20 | you dunghill dog, sing to you. |
| A plague on your sour stroppy poem, | |
| you're a worthless one, farewell, Tudur. | |
| I must take revenge on Dafydd, the weaver of verse, | |
| 24 | for what he said. |
| The harmony of a nightingale in a grove, | |
| he accompanies the one great his stride. | |
| He commits himself to attempting to get a grade | |
| 28 | by having a bardic debate against me in Anglesey. |
| Nobody sees him as a fair son of his mother, | |
| he's not straight, by the Pope's hand. | |
| I am not of the same father, I'm lively and beautiful, | |
| 32 | nor the same mother as the satirical poet. |
| I have seven companions | |
| at Aberffraw in Anglesey, | |
| I have plenty of proven gift–makers, | |
| 36 | for every one which Dafydd has, and more. |
| Every useless poet has great need of a poem, | |
| like Dafydd, the jealous bard. | |
| He challenges open fighting | |
| 40 | before his tongue's poetry. |
| He expected to have, wise grip, | |
| a crutch on a weak and foolish man. | |
| But I will be free of fear of the poet from the south, | |
| 44 | and will not cease if he ceases. |
| I pitch my body against my enemy | |
| because I never was feeble, | |
| and my entertaining song under bright green birches, | |
| 48 | and my cunning, and my brave liveliness. |
| Speaking of nobility, he expressed to me, | |
| with comfort, and the support of a woman, | |
| it should be asked, a fair, distant gentle one, | |
| 52 | to Ardudful, whether she knows any better. |
| She knows how to avoid lies, | |
| I'm a husband to her from Anglesey. | |
| If he was my own son, common knowledge, | |
| 56 | if any part of me is in him, |
| the petitioner respects so badly, | |
| the poet Dafydd, his own father. | |