I address myself to God, the source of joy, the fountain of all good
gifts, of transcendent majesty. Let the song proceed to pay its tribute
of praise, to extol my hero, the prince of Arllechwedd, {36a} who is
stained with blood, a prince descended from renowned kings. Like Julius
Caesar is the rapid progress of the arms of Griffydd's heir. His valour
and bravery are matchless, his crimson lance is stained with gore. It is
natural to him to invade the lands of his enemies. He is generous, the
pillar of princes. I never return empty-handed from the North. My
successful and glorious prince, I would not exchange on any conditions.
I have a renowned prince, who lays England waste, descended from noble
ancestors. Llewelyn the destroyer of thy foes, the mild and prosperous
governor of Gwynedd, Britain's honour in the field, with thy sceptered
hand extended on the throne, and thy gilt sword by thy side. The lion of
Cemmaes, {36b} fierce in the onset, when the army rusheth to be covered
with red. Our defence who slighteth alliance with strangers, who with
violence maketh his way through the midst of his enemy's country. His
just cause will be prosperous at last. About Tyganwy {37a} he has
extended his dominion, and his enemies fly from him with maimed limbs,
and the blood flows over the soles of men's feet. Thou dragon of Arfon
{37b} of resistless fury, with thy beautiful well-made steeds, no
Englishman shall get one foot of thy country. There is no Cymro thy
equal.