Lament for Madawg ap Maredudd
Black Book of Carmarthen XXXVII

I ask of my Lord, hope's blessing,
I ask (I have asked so often)
To weave of my lofty words a rich song
For my lordly comrade,
To mourn for Madawg, surfeited with mead,
Whose foes spoke in all tongues.
Fortress portal, shield-companion,
Buckler in battle, gold-embossed,
Roar of gorse thrashing and blazing,
Router of foes, shield a door-bolt,
Lord of myriad songs, minstrels' hope,
Crimson, unhindered, firm comrade,
Madawg was called before his death
A snare of vile, voracious foes.
Lavish to me, Gascon stallion,
Red spear of Bran ap Llyr Llediaith,
High his praise for heaping plunder,
He evades no raiding war-band.
Constant in kindness, pledged comrade,
Blade of fear in strife, in slaughter,
Blade of blood that loves contending,
Hand quick below many-hued shield,
Helm of Powys, land left hopeless,
Claim pressed, man who craves no childsplay,
High-spirited, shield of four tongues,
Heir of ancient iron-clad kings,
Warm-hearted Madawg, wealth fast-sealed,
Since he left, his death leaves us lost,
Since covered, gone is comradeship.
He was bards' friend, bard's flawless song,
Strong anchor in the desolate deep,
Long-welcoming, open-handed, benign,
A war-cry of blood in his combats, 
Tangy drinking-horn, blood-pledged buttress,
Lion of Cadiath's warrior line,
Reproachless, powerful comrade of lords,
Monarch armed in iron, iron-crowned.
May his end be, now his death has come,
Making amends for what wrongs were his,
In the saints' light, in the bright passage,
In perfect freedom's blessed brightness.


Clancy, Joseph P. The Earliest Welsh Poetry. NY: MacMillan, 1970. p.141-142