A Lament for Owein

Attributed to Taliesin

The soul of Owein ap Urien
May the Lord have regard to his need!
The Prince of Rheged who lies under the heavy earth,
It was no shallow task to praise him!
The grave of a famous man renowned in song,
His sharp spears like the rays of dawn,
For the equal will not be found
Of the glorious prince of Llwyfenydd.
Reaper of enemies, captor,
Like his father and grandfather.
When Owein slew Flamddwyn
It was no more than to fall asleep.

The wide host of Lloegr [England] sleeps
With the light in their eyes.
And those that were loth to flee
Were bolder than was needed.
Owein punished them fiercely,
Like a pack of wolves chasing sheep.
A fine warrior in his many-coloured harness,
Who gave horses to suppliants.
Though he would gather like a miser,
It was given away for his soul's sake.

The Soul of Owein ap Urien,
May the Lord have regard to his need!