Skene's Four Ancient Books of
LXVII. BLACK BOOK OF CAERMARTHEN
O little pig! thou happy little pig!
Bury not thy snout on the top of the mountain;
Burrow in a secluded place in the woods,
For fear of the hunting dogs of Rydderch, the champion of the faith.
And I will prognosticate, and it will be true,
As far as Aber Taradyr, before the usurpers of Prydein,
All the Cymry will be under the same warlike leader;
His name is Llywelyn, of the line
Of Gwynedd, one who will overcome.
II. Listen, O little pig! it is necessary to go,
For fear of the hunters of Mordei, if one dared,
Lest we be pursued and discovered;
And should we escape, I shall not complain of fatigue,
And. I will predict, in respect of the ninth wave,
And in respect of the single white-bearded person, who exhausted Dyved,
Who erected a chancel in the land for those of partial belief,
In the upland region, and among wild beasts.
Until Cynan comes to it, to see its distress,
Her habitations will never be restored.
III. Listen, O little pig! I cannot easily sleep,
On account of the tumult of grief which is upon me;
Ten years and forty have I endured pain;
Evil is the joy which I now have.
May life be given me by Jesus, the most trustworthy
Of the kings of heaven, of highest lineage!
It will not be well with the female descendants of Adam,
If they believe not in God, in the latter day.
I have seen Gwenddoleu, with the precious gifts of princes,
Gathering prey from every extremity of the land;
Beneath my green sod is he not still!
The chief of sovereigns of the North, of mildest disposition.
IV. Listen, O little pig! it was necessary to pray,
For fear of the five sovereigns from Normandi;
And the fifth going over the salt sea,
To conquer Iwerdon with its pleasant towns;
He will cause war and confusion,
And ruddy arms and groanings in it.
And they, certainly, will come from it,
And do honour on the grave of Dewi.
And I will predict that there will be confusion
From the fighting of son and father, the country shall know it;
And that there will be to the Lloegrians the falling of cities,
And that deliverance will never be to Normandi.
V. Listen, O little pig! be not drowsy;
There comes to us a sad report
Of petty chieftains full of perjury
And husbandmen. that are close-fisted of the penny.
When there shall come over the sea men completely covered with armour,
With war-horses under them, having two faces,
And two points on their terribly destructive spears;
There will be ploughing without reaping in the world of war;
The grave will be better than life to all the wretched;
Horns will be on the women of the four quarters;
When the vigorous young men shall become corpses,
There will be a severe morning in Caer Sallawg.
VI. Listen, O little pig! thou pig of peace!
A Sibyl has told me a wonderful tale;
And I will predict a summer full of fury,
Between brothers, treachery from Gwynedd.
When a pledge of peace shall long be required from the land of Gwynedd,
There shall come seven hundred ships of the Gynt with the north wind;
And in Aber Dau their conference will be.
VII. Listen, O little pig! thou blessed little pig!
A Sibyl has told me it tale which frightens me;
When Lloegyr shall encamp in the land of Ethlin,
And make Dyganwy a strong fort,
By the . . . of Lloegyr and Llywelyn,
There will be it child on the shoulders . . . baggage.
When Deinoel, the son of Dunawd Deinwyn, becomes enraged,
The Frank shall flee the way he does not seek;
In Aber Dulas their support will be exhausted,
Of a ruddy hue will be their garments around them.
VIII. Listen, O little pig! listen to the calls for attention!
For the crime of the necessitous God will make remissions.
. . . what is becoming, be it mine,
And what is . . . let him seek.
IX. Listen, O little pig! it is broad daylight,
Hark thou to the song of water-birds whose notes are loud!
To us there will be years and long days,
And iniquitous rulers, and the blasting of fruit,
And bishops sheltering thieves, churches desecrated,
And monks who will compensate for loads of sins.
X. Listen, O little pig! penetrate into Gwynedd;
Have a partner when thou goest to rest.
Little does Rydderch Hael know to-night at his feast
What sleeplessness last night I bore.
The snow was up to my knee, owing to the wariness of the chief,
Icicles hung to my hair; sad is my fate!
Tuesday will come, the day of fierce anger,
Between the ruler of Powys, and the region of Gwynedd.
When the beam of light will arise from its long repose,
And defend from its enemy the frontiers of Gwynedd.
Unless my Maker will grant me a share of his mercy,
Woe to me that I have existed, miserable will be my end!
XI. Listen, O little pig! utter not a whisper,
When the host of war marches from Caermarthen,
To support, in the common cause, two whelps
Of the line of Rys, the stay of battle, the warlike commander of armies,
When the Saxon shall be slain in the conflict of Cymmerau,
Blessed will be the lot of Cymry, the people of Cymrwy.
XII. Listen, O little pig! blessed little pig of the country!
Do not sleep in the morning, burrow not in the fertile region,
Lest Rydderch Hael and his cunning dogs should come,
And before thou couldst reach the wood, thy perspiration trickled down.
XIII. Listen, O little pig! thou blessed pig!
Hadst thou seen as much severe oppression as I have,
Thou wouldst not sleep in the morning, nor burrow on the hill.
When the Saxons repose from their serpent cunning,
And the castle of Collwyn is resorted to from afar,
Clothes will be smart, and the black pool clear.
XIV. Listen, O little pig! hear thou now;
When the men of Gwynedd lay down their great work,
Blades will be in hands, horns will be sounded,
Armour will be broken before sharp lances.
And I will predict that two rightful princes
Will produce peace from heaven to earth--
Cynan, Cadwaladyr, thorough Cymry.
May their councils be admired.
The laws of the country, and the exclusion of troubles,
And the abolition of armies and theft;
And to us then there shall be a relief after our ills,
And from generosity none will be excluded.
XV. Listen, Q little pig! is not the mountain green?
My cloak is thin for me there is no repose;
Pale is my visage, Gwendydd does not come to me.
When the men of Bryneich will bring their army to the shore,
Cymry will conquer, glorious will be their day.
XVI. Listen, O little pig! thou brawny pig!
Bury not thy snout, consume not Mynwy;
Love no pledge, love no play.
And an advice I will give to Gwenabwy,
"Be not an amorous youth given to wanton play."
And I will predict the battle of Machawy,
When there will be ruddy spears. in the Riw Dydmwy,
From the contention of chieftains; breast will heave on the saddles;
There will be a morning of woe, and a woeful visitation;
A bear from Deheubarth will arise,
His men will spread over the land of Mynwy.
Blessed is the lot that awaits Gwendydd,
When the Prince of Dyved comes to rule,
XVII. Listen, O little pig! are not the buds of thorns
Very green, the mountain beautiful, and beautiful the earth?
And I will predict the battle of Coed Llwyvein,
And ruddy biers from the attack of Owein,
When stewards shall make short disputes,
When there will be perjury and treachery amongst the children of the land;
And When Cadwaladyr comes to conquer
Mona, the Saxons shall be extirpated from lovely Prydein.
XVIII. Listen, O little pig! great wonders
Will be in Prydein, and I shall not be concerned;
When come the inhabitants of the regions about
Mona to question the Brython, there will be troublesome times;
A successful leader will uplift radiant spears,
Stout Cynan, appearing from the banks of the Teiwi,
Will cause confusion in Dyved;
May there be to him for riches melody in it!
XIX. Listen, O little pig! how wonderful it is
That the world is never long in the same condition!
How far the Saxons proclaim the cause of strife
With the generous Brython, the sons of trouble!
And I will predict before the end
The Brython uppermost of the Saxons; the Picts say it;
And then will come upon its the spirit of joyfulness,
After having long been of a tardy disposition.
XX. Listen, O little pig! hear thou the melody
And chirping of birds by Caer Reon.
One I have that I would place on Mynydd Maon,
To view the comely forms of the lovely ones.
And I will predict a battle on the wave,
And the battle of Machawy, and a battle on a river,
Ant] the battle of Cors Vochno, and the battle of Minron,
And the battle of Cymminawd, and the battle of Caerlleon,
And the battle of Abergwaith, and the battle of Ieithion;
And when there shall be an end of music at the land's end;
A child will arise, and good there will be to the Brython.
XXI. Listen, O little pig! a period will come,
How miserable that it should come, but come it will!
Maids will be bold, and wives wanton;
They will love, but will not revere their kindred;
Liberal will not the prosperous be towards one another.
Bishops will be of a different language, worthless, and faithless.
XXII. Listen, O little pig! thou little speckled one!
List to the voice of sea-birds, great is their energy!
Minstrels will be out, without their appropriate portion;
Though they stand at the door, a reward will not come,
I was told by a sea-gull that had come from afar,
That strange sovereigns will make their appearance;
Gwyddyl, and Brython, and Romani
Will create discord and confusion,
And in the name of gods will come into it,
And vigorously fight on both banks of the Tywi.
XXIII. Listen, O little pig! thou stout-armed little one!
Hark to the voice of sea-birds, whose clamour is great.
Minstrels will be out, without an honourable portion,
There will be repugnance to hospitality; a youth will have his own opinion,
Without protection of countenance, without an honourable portion.
When two brothers will be two Idases for land,
From their claim will be cherished a lasting feud.
XXIV. Listen, O little pig! to me it is of no purpose
To hear the voice of water-birds, whose scream is tumultuous,
Thin is the hair of my head, my covering is not warm;
The dales are my barn, my corn is not plenteous;
My summer collection affords me no relief,
Before parting from God, incessant was my passion.
And I will predict, before the end of the world,
Women without shame, and men without manliness.
XXV. Listen, O little pig! a trembling pig!
Thin is my covering, for me there is no repose,
Since the battle of Ardeleryd it will not concern me,
Though the sky were to fall, and sea to overflow.
And I will predict that after Henri
Such and such a king in troublesome times.
When there shall be a bridge on the Taw, and another on the Tywi,
There will be an end of war in it.