Samuel Puopolo

For a second installment of the Medieval Welsh poetry in (poor) translation series, I have here two poems from the so-called “historical Taliessin.” Taliessin is alluded to as an ancient poet with the antiquity of Anierin and a manuscript has come down to us in his name, the Book of Taliessin. Like Virgil, Taliessin’s persona turned into that of a wizard at some point, and he became associated with a tail of multiple metamorphoses akin to Ennius’. As such, the antiquity of most of the poems in the manuscript is in question, as they seem to refer more to a magician than an ancient court poet. The following poems, dedicated to historical personages, have been seen by some to come from an “historical” Taliessin – in line with the “historical” idea of Taliessin as the court poet of Urien and his son Owain. Other scholars seem to be suspicious of this separation of historical and legendary Taliessins. The first poem is the “Gwaith Argoed Llywfain” about Urien and Owain’s battle against the enemy Fflamddwyn. The second is the “Marwnad Owain ab Urien” about the death of Owain in battle.


Saturday morning there was a big battle
From when the sun rose to when it set.
Fflamddwyn attacked with four hosts;
Goddau and Rheged to prepare for battle,
Summons from Argoed to Arfynydd,
They did not delay even on day.
Fflamddwyn of Big-Bluster cried
“Have they given hostages? Are they ready?”
To him answered Owain, Scourge of the East,
“They did not give them, they were not and are not ready;
A whelp of Coel will be an agitated
Lion before he pays hostages to anyone.”
Urien, lord of Erechwydd, shouted
“If there will be a confrontation for kin,
Let us raise the palisades above the mountain,
And let us bear our faces a bove the rim,
And let us raise our spears above our heads, men,
And let us attack Flamddwyn in his host,
And let us kill him and his company.”
Before Argoed Llywfain there were many corpses;
They gave freedom for warriors.
And the people charged with their lord,
I propose for a year a song of their victory.


Soul of Owan son of Urien,
      May the Lord think of his need.
Lord of Rheged, O heavy-green his covering,
      Not shallow was his praiseworthiness.
In a cell underground a warrior renowned in song of praise
      The flashing rays of dawn his whetted spears,
Since no peer could be found
      For the splendid lord of Llwyfenydd.
A reaper of enemies, a captor,
      With the nature of his father and grandfather.
When Owain killed Fflamddwyn
      It was no more than sleeping.
A broad host of England slept
      With the light in their eyes;
And some did not flee very much,
      They were bolder than there was need.
Owain punished them dearly,
      Like a pack of wolves chasing sheep.
A handsome man upon his variegated harness
      He gave horses to suppliants.
Though he amassed them like a miser,
      He shared much for his soul.
Soul of Owain son of Urien,
      May the Lord think of his need.