Translations into English Verse from the Poems of Davyth ap Gwilym/May

by Dafydd ap Gwilym

MAY.

---

Many a poet in his lay
Told me May would come again;
Truly sang the bards—for May
Yesterday began to reign!
She is like a bounteous lord,
Gold enough she gives to me;
Gold—such as we poets hoard—
“Florins” of the mead and tree,
Hazel flowers and “fleurs-de-lis.”
Underneath her leafy wings,
I am safe from treason’s stings:
I am full of wrath with May,
That she will not always stay!
Maidens never hear of love,
But when she has plumed the grove,—
Giver of the gift of song
To the poet’s heart and tongue.
May! majestic child of heaven,
To the earth in glory given!
Verdant hills, days long and clear,
Come when she is hov’ring near.
Stars, ye cannot journey on
Joyously when she is gone!
Ye are not so glossy bright,
Blackbirds, when she takes her flight.
Sweetest art thou, nightingale;
Poet, thou canst tell thy tale
With a lighter heart, when May
Rules with all her bright array.