The Elegy for Llywelyn ap Gruffudd
Gruffudd ap yr Ynad Coch The heart of oak is cold behind the gates of Aberffraw. The hand that gave gold is still now – I cannot wear it, the apparel he put about me. This grief for my lord is a cloud on my soul This grief for the fate that his wounds brought us confounds the red spear of Cadwalader’s keeping. For us now the darkness, the hatred of Saxons A time of lamenting in the life left to us A time now to praise him to think of his glory to reproach even God who has left us without him; For him life eternal. What now for us left with a full load of weeping? The dark hand that felled him haunts his kingdom; his hall now the grave. A long vista of fear stretches before us. Lord Christ deliver him for the sake of our sorrow, Heavy the sword blows that struck him to earth Heir of brave princes, his flame burned brightly: strong Lion of Gwynedd Great was the need of the strength of his throne All Britain was struck down with