Anonymous, c. ?



Huntsong for a Small Son


Dinogad's coat is specked with spots--
I made it out of pelts of stoats.
Flingabout, fling! Flingabout, flingabout!
Eight times the song we'll sing.

When your daddy went to the hunt,
Shouldered his spear, his staff in hand,
He called to the hounds that were hale and fleet,
"Fido, fetch! Bowser, trail!"

He caught fish in his little boat
Like a dragon after a stoat.
When your daddy climbed up the craggy rock
He brought back board, buck, stag,

A stippled gamehen from the hills
And a trout from Oak Fountain Falls.
At whatever your daddy cocks his spear,
There he strikes bear, lynx, fox.

This is no boast, this is no lie--
If it escapes then it can fly.


    Welsh; a modern version of a Medieval
    poem by 'Wesli Court' aka Lewis Turco


Welsh, a modern version of a Medieval poem by 'Wesli Court' aka Lewis Turco, The New Book of Forms: A Handbook of Poetics, Third Edition, University Press of New England, 2000, by permission of the author.