Song for Urien Rheged
Book of Taliesin XXXII

Urien of the cultivated plain,
The most generous man of baptism,
Abundance has been given
To the men of earth.
As it has been gathered,
It has been scattered.
Joyful the bards of baptism
Whilst thy life continues.
There is greater joy
For the high-famed, and liberal of praise.
It is greater glory,
That Urien and his children should exist.
And he especially
The supreme Guledig.
In a distant city,
A principal pilgrim,
The Lloegrians know him,
When they converse.
Death they had,
And frequent vexation,
Burning their homesteads,
And drawing their coverings.
And loss,
And great incomprehension,
Without obtaining deliverance
From Urien Rheged.
The protector of Rheged,
The praise of Ier, the anchor of the country.
My inclination is on thee,
Of every hearing.
Heavy thy spear-throwing,
When the battle is heard,
When they resort to battle,
A smarting is made.
Fire in houses before day,
Before the sovereign of the cultivated plain,
The most fair cultivated plain,
And its most generous men.
The Angles are accustomed to be without homage
From most valiant king.
A most valiant progeny,
Thine is the best.
Of those who have been, or will be,
There is not thy match.
When he is looked upon,
Very great is the terror.
It is usual to look for him,
For an active king.
Around him a modest demeanour,
And the varied multitude,
The splendid prince of the North,
The choicest of princes.

And when I fail in age,
In the sore necessity of death,
May I not be smiling,
If I praise not Urien.