Celtic Historic Literature by Aneirin, translation by Joseph Clancy
Support in the front line, sunlight on the grass:
Where can heaven's lord of Britain be found?
Ford roiled by his rush, shield for a shelter.
Resplendent the lord in Eidin's great hall, grandeur his glory.
His mead made men drunk; he drank vintage wine.
A reaper in War, he drank the sweet wine.
Mind bent on battle, he reaped battle's leeks.
Battle's bright band sang a battle song armed for battle,
Battle's pinions, his shield was sheared thin by spears in the strife.
Comrades were fallen in battle-harness.
Stirring his war-cry, faultless his service, spellbound his frenzy,
Before green covered Gwrfelling Fras' grave.
They revere the right: three spears stain with blood fifty, five hundred.
Three hounds, three hundred: three stallions of war from golden Eidin,
Three mail-clad war-bands, three gold-collared kings.
Three savage stallions, three peers in battle,
Three leaping as one, they crushed foes fiercely,
Three in hard fighting, three lions hewed foes,
Gold in close combat, three monarchs of men
Who came from Britain, Cynri and Cynon, Cynrein of Aeron.
The cunning clansmen Of Deifr demanded:
Have Britons a man better than Cynon, snake stinging his foe?
verses 19, 20 & 21