Dyhedd deon diechir by[g]eledd Rhiau, a Rhirid, a Rhiossedd, a Rhygyfarch lary lyw eirassedd. Ef cwynif oni fwyf i’m derwin fedd, o leas Cynddylan yn ei fawredd.	Unyielding battle of menacing lords, Rhiau and Rhirid and Rhiosedd  and Rhigyfarch, the generous chieftain, the chariot driver. I shall lament until I lie in my oaken coffin for the slaying of Cynddylan in his grandeur.
Mawredd gyminedd! A feddyliais myned y Fenai, cyn ni’m bai fais. Carafi a’m enneirch o dir Cemais, gwerling Dogfeiling, Cadelling trais. Ef cwynif oni fwyf i’m derw llednais, o leas Cynddylan, colled annofais.	Grandeur in battle! Did I think  of going to Menai, though there was no ford for me? I love those of the land of Cemais who give me welcome, the king of Dogfeiling, oppressor of the Cadelling. I shall lament until I would be in my oaken silence for the slaying of Cynddylan, grievous loss.
Mawredd gyminedd! I feddyliaw myned i Fenai, cyn ni’m bai naw! Carafi a’m enneirch o Aberffraw, gwerling Dogfeiling, Cadelling ffaw. Ef cwynif oni fwyf i’m derwin taw, o leas Cynddylan, a’i luyddaw.	Grandeur in battle! To think of going to Menai, though I cannot swim! I love those who welcome me to Aberffraw, the king of Dogfeiling, terror to the Cadelling. I shall lament until I would be in my oaken silence for the slaying of Cynddylan and his mustering of hosts.
Mawredd gyminedd! Gwin waredawg, wyf colledig wen, hen hiraethawg. Collais pan amwyth alaf Pennawg Gwr dewr diachar diarbedawg. Cyrchai drais tra Thren, tir trahawg, ef cwynif oni fwyf yn ddaear fodawg, o leas Cynddylan, clod Caradawg.	Grandeur in battle! Civilised wine! I beseech sorrowfully, old and filled with hiraeth. When he raided the cattle of Pennawg, I lost a brave, unyielding, unforgiving hero. He used to make campaigns beyond Tern, the proud land. I shall lament until I would be in the unmoving earth for the slaying of Cynddylan, of the fame of Caradog.
Mawredd gyminedd! Mor fu da[f]fawd a gafas Cynddylan, cynran cyffrawd; saith gant rhiallu’n ei <yspeidawd>, pan fynnwys mab pyd, mor fu barawd! <Hy> [d]darfu yn neithiawr, ni bu priawd. Gan Dduw py amgen plwyf, py du dae<a>rawd? Ef cwynif oni fwyf [y]n<i> erw<rth> <w>awd, o leas Cynddylan, clod addwyndawd.	Grandeur in battle! So good was the destiny that Cynddylan, the battle leader, got seven hundred chosen soldiers in his retinue, When the son of Pyd requested, he was so ready! He did not go to the wedding feast; he was not married. O God! What different company, what black burial? I shall lament until I would be with the throng under the earth for the slaying of Cynddylan, of majestic fame.
Mawredd gyminedd! Mor wyf gnotaf, pob pysg a milyn yd fydd tecaf, i drais a gollais, <gwir> achassaf, Rhiau, a Rhirid, a Rhiadaf, a Rhygyfarch lary [ior] pob eithaf. Dyrrynt eu [p]reiddau a <t>oleu Taf, caith cwynynt; br<iw>ynt, grydynt alaf. Ef cwynif oni fwyf yn erw penylaf o leas Cynddylan, clod pob eithaf.	Grandeur in battle! I am so very well accustomed to all the finest fishes and beasts, through violence I have lost the finest warriors, Rhiau and Rhirid and Rhiosedd and Rhigyfarch, generous [ruler] of every borderland. They used to drive back the spoils from the dales of Taff. Captives lamented; lame, cattle bellowed. I shall lament until I would be in the most constricted plot for the slaying of Cynddylan, famed at the border.
Mawredd gyminedd! A weli di hyn? Yd lysg fy nghalon fal etewyn. Hoffais i <mewredd> eu gwyr a’u gwragedd  [fy ngomedd] ni ellynt <fy nwyn>.  Brodyr a’m bwyad. [Oedd] gwell ban fythyn, canawon Arthur fras, dinas dengyn, [y] rhag Caer Lwytgoed nis digonsyn. [Oedd] crau y dan frain, a chrai gychwyn. Briwynt calch ar drwyn, feibion Cyndrwynyn. Ef cwynif oni fwyf yn nhir gwelyddyn, o leas Cynddylan, clodlawn unbyn.	Grandeur in battle! Do you see this? My heart burns like a firebrand. I enjoyed the wealth of their men  and women. They could not repay me enough. I used to have brothers. It was better when they were the young whelps of great Arthur, the mighty fortress. Before Lichfield they fought, There was gore under ravens and keen attack. Limed shields broke before the sons of the Cyndrwynyn. I shall lament until I would be in the land of my resting place for the slaying of Cynddylan, famed among chieftains.
Mawredd gyminedd! Mawr ysgafael y rhag Caer Lwytgoed, neus dug Moriael. Pymtheccant muhyn, a phum gwriael; pedwar ugein meirch, a seirch cy[c]ha<w>ael. Pen esgob hunob ym mhedeirael, nis noddes myneich llyfr afael. A gwyddws yn eu creulan o gynran claer nid engis or ffosawd brawd ar y chwaer. Diengynt a’u herchyll trewyll yn taer. Ef cwynif oni fwyf yn erw trf<w>ael, o leas Cynddylan, clodrydd pob hael.	Grandeur in battle! Extensive spoils Morial bore off from in front of Lichfield. Fifteen hundred cattle from the front of battle; four twenties of stallions and equal harness. The chief bishop wretched in his four-cornered house (?), the book-keeping monks did not protect. Those who fell in the blood before the splendid warrior no brother escaped from the entrenchment to his sister. They escaped from the uproar with grievous wounds. I shall lament until I would be in my lowly grave plot for the slaying of Cynddylan, famous to every generous man.
Mawredd gyminedd! Mor oedd e<rr>un gan fy mryd, pan athreiddwn Pwll ac Alun! Ir[fr]w[y]n<n> y dan fy nrhaed hyd bryd cyntun; pl<w>[d]de y danaf hyd ymhen fy nghlun. A chyn ethwyf i yno i’m bro fy hun, nid oes un car; neud adar i’w warafun. A chyn ni’m dyccei i Dduw i’r digfryn ni ddigones neb o bechawd cyha<w>al <i mi> hun.	Grandeur in battle! So pleasant it was in my soul when I visited Pwll and Alun! Fresh rushes under foot until bedtime; feather pillows under me, as far down as my knees. And though I have gone there, to my own country, there is not one kinsman left: birds have claimed them. And though I am not led to God at the Judgment Mount, None has sinned as I have.