Welsh Journals

A DAY WHICH ENDURES NOT (Adapted from the Welsh of Elidr Sais, 13th-century poet) As for me I have seen Llywelyn With all the valiant men of Wales around him, His armies like the hosts of Merfyn; And have marched with chieftains mustering On the steep hills and the deep lowlands, Pillars of war were they all, and mighty. I have seen brave youth in battle And heard the high thunder of horsemen: And have drunk rare wines from chalices With rich meats laid on fine linen In the bountiful palaces of princes. I have listened to much oratory, To the jewelled harmonies of bards Declaiming their lyrics in intricate metres: I have heard the songs and satires Of itinerant minstrels, And shared the merriment of maidens Tickled by the saucy tales of story-tellers. I have had my fill also Of festivals and ceremonies, The gleam and glitter of contests Where strong men rejoiced in their prowess And the clever in their cunning. But now all these are gone Like dreams in the morning: And thus, each soul must journey forth At the time of his reckoning From a day which endures not: In this the lord of many lands The poor man's master Gains no reprieve, no respite: He passes through the portal with the peasant. A. G. Prys-Jones