The Treasures of the Dead

What follows is an original translation of the first three verses of Preiddu Annwfn (Commonly translated as The Spoils of Annwn), a 6th century Welsh poem from the Book of Taliesin.  There is much scholarly work on this poem, including that of R.S. Loomis, Robert Graves, Marged Haycock, and John Koch.  The aforementioned works set out to be scholarly, objective, and as technically precise as possible with regard to the extremely obscure language and phrasing of the original, but in so striving they have sacrificed poetic fluidity and coherence.  The present effort aims at incorporating past scholarly work as a guide, while preserving poetic structures of the original, including rhyme scheme, internal rhyme, alliteration, and meter.  There is also an intention to preserve a particular interpretation, placing the value of coherence somewhat above technical or scholarly concerns.  The interpretation adopted is that of the hero's journey to the underworld as understood by C.G. Jung and Joseph Campbell, within the mythic framework of the Arthurian Cycle as preserved in Welsh and French medieval literature, and in the English work of Thomas Mallory.  I hope to address the remaining verses in sequence.





I.

Homage to the ruler,
The King of all the land

O'er the wide strand of the world

His sovereignty extends.

Complete the captivity of Gwair
In the Keep of the dread Elven

In the book of Pwyll and Pryderi
Is recorded this legend

Before him there was no man
That ever entered in.

The steadfast youth was bound there
In dark and daunting chain

Before the treasures of the Land of the Dead
He wept and did lament

And thenceforth till the day of doom
A bard he shall be kenned.

Thrice the crew of Prydwen were we

When we entered in

Seven, no more, returned to our shore

From the Keep of the dread Elven.

II.

Honor be and praises

For the song it could be heard

In the Keep of Four Towers

Four times it turned

Came forth from in the cauldron

The first poetic word

By the breath of maidens nine

its fire began to burn

The Chieftain of the Land of Shades

How was his cauldron turned?

A dark rim around it

And in the rim are pearls

To cook the food of daunted men

'Tis not destined to serve

The falchion of fair Lleawch

Has flashed before the urn

And it was fetched by Lleminawch

In his hand it returned

Before that dread portal
Eternal lamplight burned

When we went in with Arthur

Our hands hard honors earned

Seven, no more, returned to the shore

From the Keep of Drink-rapture

III.

Honor be and praises
This song is heard of yore

At the Keep of Four Pinnacles
In the Isle of the Steadfast Door

Edge of day and edge of night
They blend in tincture pure

Effulgent wine their wassail
The winsome host before

Thrice the crew of Prydwen

The wide sea ventured o'er

Seven, no more, returned to the shore

From Keep Rigor.