Giles Watson's poetry and prose
The Poet Goes Floppy
The Poet Goes Floppy
Methiant y Bardd
He:
Lovely one with slinky waist,
Royal and slender, do your worst:
Precious ladyship, I cast
My love upon you, by Christ!
Once, you granted permission;
What chance of readmission?
She:
How will you gain, with wheyish face?
You must pledge to make no fuss.
He:
By your legs – yes, I’ve seen them –
I’d be silent between them.
She:
Put your knees between my legs:
Beguile a girl with what she likes.
He:
What, haughty girl, will I do?
My wily tool won’t rise for you.
She:
What happened to your words?
Deeds fail you. All men are duds.
He:
My lust’s a husk - winds winnow -
My words blew out the window.
She:
Curse the ladies and the girls
You have known – he who beguiles
His way between my white thighs,
Gets me hot and barely thaws!
Take your tool which mopes and flops,
And lie down with fleas and lice!
He:
Sleep alone with your wild arse
For company, with Christ’s curse!
Poem by Dafydd ap Gwilym, paraphrased by Giles Watson, 2011. A travelling poet and musician would have needed some bawdy material in his repertoire, and there seems to be little reason for doubting Dafydd’s authorship here. Even though it has been argued that the poem was written by a woman, there are plenty of unquestionably canonical poems which demonstrate Dafydd’s own self-irony, and in the mediaeval manuscripts, Dafydd’s is the only name associated with it.
The Poet Goes Floppy
The Poet Goes Floppy
Methiant y Bardd
He:
Lovely one with slinky waist,
Royal and slender, do your worst:
Precious ladyship, I cast
My love upon you, by Christ!
Once, you granted permission;
What chance of readmission?
She:
How will you gain, with wheyish face?
You must pledge to make no fuss.
He:
By your legs – yes, I’ve seen them –
I’d be silent between them.
She:
Put your knees between my legs:
Beguile a girl with what she likes.
He:
What, haughty girl, will I do?
My wily tool won’t rise for you.
She:
What happened to your words?
Deeds fail you. All men are duds.
He:
My lust’s a husk - winds winnow -
My words blew out the window.
She:
Curse the ladies and the girls
You have known – he who beguiles
His way between my white thighs,
Gets me hot and barely thaws!
Take your tool which mopes and flops,
And lie down with fleas and lice!
He:
Sleep alone with your wild arse
For company, with Christ’s curse!
Poem by Dafydd ap Gwilym, paraphrased by Giles Watson, 2011. A travelling poet and musician would have needed some bawdy material in his repertoire, and there seems to be little reason for doubting Dafydd’s authorship here. Even though it has been argued that the poem was written by a woman, there are plenty of unquestionably canonical poems which demonstrate Dafydd’s own self-irony, and in the mediaeval manuscripts, Dafydd’s is the only name associated with it.