Literature:Cwengâr/Verse

Cwyshŷn ô Angyn hÔlhon

Te rhà e hêd gwôlhud fà urŷn?
Tengâr angyn hôlhon e hâd tyl c'hyshŷn,
âcwemaff ngyshŷn, mocwaff ngyshŷn,
Anengŷn rhà cwe e rhà nŷn.

Te rhà hêd lŷm êrô hôrhêc'hon?
Tengâr cwyshŷn tyl angyn hôlhon,
Cwârh rhà tyl sŷn, Â su nôrhêc'hon,
ffen lengârh rhà dàs o lengon.

Cwŷn du cwe bôlyraff o rulhôf,
Femogw lhut ashâff su tyl nylhôf,
Cwâm rhà hâd, o dô tyl âcwemaff,
Te âtyff du nenâmemaff.

Ane du fà cwâp ât târ ataff
pen te du fà rô ngyr ryn rataff
Cwâr du rataff âtyff het tengâr
o lenârh ulhà het cwynâr.

Lhucwâr perabàf angâm m'hocwaff,
Cweffer cwec'han angâr 'emocwaff,
Cwec'hâr pelhôtŷn shân lyr ngelem,
O te merhôl cwy rhà nâcwem.

Aryn du e hêd te e c'hec'hâr,
Amed du hen shed cwe rhà ât nâr,
nŷ gwônegw du cwâ su nâcwem,
nŷ gwônŷn du cwâ petan cwelem.

Tenerhôdôn du angyn ratel,
Tengâm du e hâr dol nanŷffel,
Tenelh rhà êrô hâr nŷsheffel,
Angôdolh rhà c'hyn cwe c'hel.

Tenganô rhà, tengônemerhôl,
O ffen shenô cwy rhà angyn ngôl,
Ane du fà cwâp rhà pelhocw ngâr,
Ô gwônânalh rhà peren hâr.

Lenârh shengêgw lhe lhe nânŷl,
Ô tenalh lhe gwàr nge cwemarh gwŷl,
O tenânalh lhe peren e hâr.
Ô temerhôl e lhe ngânâr

Ô tengeffer cwec'han lhe cwarhôn,
O telhucwâr perab e ladôn,
cwe c'hyshŷn merhôl nâcwem,
Ât ffemocw pelhôtŷnàf g'helem.

The King and The Wild Man (Translation)

Who are you, who sits alone? Spoke the wild man to the King,
A King of Halls, A King of Words,
You rule but in your sleep.

Who are you that looks like a mouse?
Spoke the King to the wildman,
You speak from dreams, little mouse,
Speak again and die.

I rule in plains and hills,
The birds invoke me from mountains,
If you saw this, you would go from these halls,
they are your hiding place.

I have no need to do these things,
For I have twelve hundred hands,
And these hands speak what is spoken of
and will do what must be done.

The oak trees whisper forgotten words,
Rain weeps for names unspoken,
The Wolf sings of the Moon's distant home,
Yet, there is silence in your halls.

I have no love for these things which are sung,
I have no want of one thing on this earth of yours,
If I cannot feast in my hall,
And sleep in my peaceful home.

I have tasted the earth's wild fruit,
I have seen her great despair,
You live as an exile of the world,
You are unfit to rule over a people.

You could have left or kept silence,
And returned under your lawless sun,
I have no need for your words,
So let your blood cover earth.

He took his blade,
He put throat to iron,
So silent was his tongue
And earth covered by his blood.

Thus rain wept his death,
And the oak whispered of sadness,
Over the King's silent halls,
which wolves call home.