XCVII.
On account of the afflicting [203f] of the skilful and most learned man
Grievously and deeply, when he fell prostrate upon the ground,
The banner was pompously [204a] unfurled, and borne by a man in the flank; [204b]
A tumultuous scene was beheld [204c] in Eiddin, and on the battle field.
The grasp of his hand performed deeds of valour
Upon the Cynt, [204d] the Gwyddyl, and the Prydyn.
He who meddles with the mane of a wolf, without a club
In his hand, will have it gorgeously emblazoned on his robe.
Fain would I sing,—“would that Morien had not died.”
I sigh for Gwenabwy, the son of Gwen. [204e]