Arthurian and Grail Poetry

Gweith Argoet Llwyfein or The Battle of Argoed Llwyfain

This poem is taken from Llyfr Taliesin and is one of the praise songs to Urien Rheged. The text is as edited and annotated by Sir Ifor Williams. The translation is by Tony Conran with minor changes by Saunders Lewis.
A cheneu vab coel bydei kymwyawc really is a reference to Coel as in "Old King Cole".
This is the earliest example of the awdl-gywydd metre.

Gweith Argoet Llwyfein

E Bore duw sadwrn kat uawr a uu.
or pan dwyre heul hyt pan gynnu.
dygrysswys flamdwyn yn petwar llu.
godeu a reget y ymdullu.
dyuwy o argoet hyt arvynyd.
ny cheffynt eiryos hyt yr vn dyd.
Atorelwis flamdwyn vawr trebystawt.
A dodynt yg gwystlon a ynt parawt.
Ys attebwys. Owein dwyrein ffossawt.
nyt dodynt nyt ydynt nyt parawt.
A cheneu vab coel bydei kymwyawc
lew. kyn as talei o wystyl nebawt.
Atorelwis vryen vd yr echwyd.
o byd ymgyfaruot am gerenhyd.
dyrchafwn eidoed oduch mynyd.
Ac am porthwn wyneb oduch emyl.
A dyrchafwn peleidyr oduch pen gwyr.
A chyrchwn fflamdwyn yn y luyd.
A lladwn ac ef ae gyweithyd.
A rac gweith argoet llwyfein
by llawer kelein.
Rudei vrein rac ryfel gwyr.
A gwerin a grysswys gan einewyd.
Armafy blwydyn nat wy kynnyd.

Ac yny vallwyfy hen
ym dygyn agheu aghen.
ny bydif ymdyrwen
na molwyf vryen.

The Battle of Argoed Llwyfain

There was a great battle Saturday morning
From when the sun rose until it grew dark.
The fourfold hosts of Fflamddwyn invaded,
Goddau and Rheged gathered in arms,
Summoned from Argoed as far as Arfynydd --
They might not delay by as much as a day.
With a great blustering din, Fflamddwyn shouted,
'Have these hostages come? Are they ready?'
To him then Owain, scourge of the eastlands,
'They've not come, no! they're not, nor shall they be ready.'
And a whelp of Coel would indeed be afflicted
Did he have to give any man as a hostage! 
And Urien, lord of Erechwydd, shouted,
'If they would meet us now for a treaty,
High on the hilltop let's raise our ramparts,
Carry our faces over the shield rims,
Raise up your spears, men, over our heads,
And set upon Fflamddwyn in the midst of his hosts
And slaughter him, ay, and all that go with him!'
There was many a corpse beside Argoed Llwyfain;
From warriors ravens grew red
And with their leader a host attacked.
For a whole year I shall sing to their triumph.

Until I am old and ailing,
in the dire necessity of death,
I shall not be in my element
if I don't praise Urien.