“ The men went to Catraeth, swift was their host, the pale mead was their feast and it was their poison. Aneirin ★ 4,7 ♥ 69 ⧉ ♡
“ He glutted black ravens on the rampart of the stronghold, though he was no Arthur. Aneirin ★ 4,7 ♥ 142 ⧉ ♡
“ From the retinue of Mynyddog they hastened forth; in a shining array they fed together round the wine-vessel. My heart has become full of grief for the feast of Mynyddog, I have lost too many of my true kinsmen. Aneirin ★ 4,8 ♥ 43 ⧉ ♡
“ Three hundred men hastened forth, wearing gold torques, defending the land – and there was slaughter. Though they were slain they slew, and they shall be honoured to the end of the world; and of all us kinsmen who went, alas, but for one man none escaped. Aneirin ★ 4,7 ♥ 125 ⧉ ♡