Monday, 9 July 2018

Aneirin's Gael & Christ's Gall

Gwyr a aeth Gatraeth oedd ffraeth eu llu
Glasfedd eu hancwyn, a gwenwyn fu.

Swift to Catraeth's killing field sped Cavaliers heeding a King's call
But what they had quaffed for a full year in the Quality's mead hall
Was rat's bane. Three hundred sinewy throats, jubilating at first
In war cries, slashed, in silence slaked but Mud's thirst.
Even those who had groaned, atoned and, kneeling, took Eucharist
They too, by all but gall forsaken, at Calvary, alone, kept tryst.

Envoi- 

Prince! Bellicosity such a bubble, by Economics, quickly burst
Choose, thou, a Chrematistics more slowly revealed as curst.

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