The hero {98d} marched to Cattraeth with the day;
Truly {99a} he quaffed the white mead on serene nights; {99b}
Miserable, though success had been predicted, {99c}
Proved his mission, which he undertook through soaring ambition; {99d}
There hastened not to Cattraeth
A chief, with such a magnificent design of enterprize
Blazoned on his standard;
Never was there such a host
From the fort of Eiddin, {99e}
That would scatter abroad the mounted ravagers.
Tudvwlch Hir, {100a} deprived of {100b} his land and towns,
Slaughtered the Saxons for seven days; {100c}
His valour should have protected him in freedom; {100d}
His memory is cherished by his fair {100e} associates;
When Tudvwlch arrived, the supporter of the land, {100f}
The post of the son of Kilydd {100g} became a plain of blood.