Pais Dinogad

Amongst the oldest surviving Welsh poetry is an account of battles in the Old North, a text known after the protagonists as Y Gododdin. In the same manuscripts are a couple of odd bits of verse which clearly do not belong, and one of these is a nursery rhyme in which a mother tells her son - the Dinogad of the title - about his father's hunting prowess.

The seventh century text, with a bit of orthographic licence, is something like:

It can be seen how similar the language is to Modern Welsh in which it might be loosely rendered:

Pais Dinogad sydd fraith, fraith,

O groen y bela y mae'i waith.

`Chwí! Chwí!' Chwibanwaith.

Gwaeddwn ni, gwaeddant hwy - yr wyth gaeth.

Pan elai dy dad di i hela -

Gwaywffon ar ei ysgwydd, pastwn yn ei law -

Galwai ar gw+n tra chyflym,

`Giff! Gaff! Dal, dal! Dwg, dwg!'

Fe laddai bysgod o'i gwrwgl

Fel y llada llew fân-filod!

Pan elai dy dad di i'r mynydd

Deuai ef ag un iwrch, un twrch coed, un hydd,

Un rugiar fraith o fynydd,

A physgodyn o readr Derwennydd.

Beth bynnag a gyrhaeddai dy dad â'i bicell -

Boed yn dwrch, yn gath goed, yn lwynog -

Ni ddihangai'r un oni bai'n nerthol ei adenydd.

If you do not yet read Welsh, you might prefer the following loose translation:

Dinogad's shift is speckled, speckled,

It was made from the pelts of martens.

`Wee! Wee!' Whistling.

We call, they call, the eight in chains.

When your father went out to hunt -

A spear on his shoulder, a club in his hand -

He called on his lively dogs,

`Giff! Gaff! Take, take! Fetch, fetch!'

He killed fish from his coracle

Like the lion killing small animals.

When your father went to the mountains

He would bring back a roebuck, a boar, a stag,

A speckled grouse from the mountain,

And a fish from the Derwennydd falls.

At whatever your father aimed his spear -

Be it a boar, a wild cat, or a fox -

None would escape but that had strong wings.

which may or may not be entirely accurate. (I would welcome being corrected.)