"Lo the wrath of my kinsmen
      And cry of The Warband
      Have smashed the Great Barrier
      Twixt Abred and Ceugant.
      With tumultuous thunderings
      Roused was I,
      Ever guided and called
      By red phantoms of rage!
       
      The battle is no longer
      Thine, O Gwerin,
      But of Gwydyon ap Don,
      The Disposer of Wrath.
       
      Hear well thou enemy
      Of this mighty Cantrydd,
      Approaches a whirlwind
      From my gauntlet of death
      In which echoes the belling
      Of ravening hounds -
      A-thirsting for blood
      As they seek out thy threshold.
       
      O unjust viper
      Of monstrous putrescence,
      Thou cursed diffuser
      Of evil and treachery,
      Hard in pursuit
      And on leathern wings
      Fly the terrible Dragons
      Of Royal Beleu,
      Their talons of steel
      Soon to slash soul from body.
       
      O black night winds
      Of veiled Eryri,
      On, on spur my steed
      To full rampant slaughter!"
       
       
      Copyright © Gareth Pengwerin 1984
       
       (About one third of the Diatribe from a
      ceremony to Gwydyon in His warlike
      aspect as King of Battle.)
       
      Taxonomy
       
      Chants
       
      (Sword by Marco Reese)