I drank of the wine and the mead of the Mordei;
Great was the quantity of spears,
In the assembly of the warriors;
He {110d} was solemnising a banquet for the eagle.
When Cydywal {110e} hurried forth to battle, he raised
The shout with the green dawn, and dealt out tribulation, {110f}
And splintered shields about the ground he left,
And darts of awful tearing did he hew down;
In the battle, the foremost in the van he wounded.
The son of Syvno, {111a} the astronomer, knew,
That he who sold his life,
In the face of warning,
With sharpened blades would slaughter,
But would himself be slain by spears and crosses. {111b}
According to the compact, {111c} he meditated a convenient attack,
And would boast {111d} of a pile of carcases
Of gallant men of toil,
Whom in the upper part of Gwynedd {111e} he pierced.