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The Song of Taliesin
A poetic rendering of the tale of how ‘The Chief to the Bards’ from old Welsh myth acquired his ‘shining brow.’
When Gwion Bach was asked, or rather made, to carry firewood for a year to feed the cauldron of Ceridwen the Witch, he had no idea what was about to happen. She was making a brew to make her idiot son, Morfran, become wise, but little Gwion accidentally got in the way. This is the tale of how he came to see, become and sing about all things that ever were. But don’t worry, it doesn’t list them all! While Taliesin seems to have been a historical bard who lived in Wales during Roman times and served at the court of King Urien of Rheged, by the time his tale had reached the books of medieval Europe, such as The Red Book of Hergest (C. 1382), it had taken on mythic proportions. This is my poetic version, based on various prose versions. I imagine it would work best if you had a drum nearby to tap on as you read it!
You can also listen to me read it here (no drum I’m afraid).
When Ceridwen stole me, I was just a little scrap
taken so her cauldron would boil for a year
beneath the blind gaze of the old man who stirred it.
I’ve served my time as a fire tender
and calloused my hands with the swing of the axe.
I carried a wood’s worth of timber that year
blew on those cinders to…
