{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/celt/fab/fab124.htm","path":"neu/celt/fab/fab124.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/fab/fab124.htm","text":"I. THE Calends of winter, hard is the grain;\n The leaves are on the move, the plash is full;\n In the morning before he sets off,\n Woe to him that trusts to a stranger.\nII. The Calends of winter, the time of pleasant gossiping,\n The gale and the storm keep equal pace;\n It is the work of the wise to keep a secret.\nIII. The Calends of winter, the stags are lean,\n Yellow, the tops of birch, deserted the summer dwelling;\n Woo to him who for a trifle deserves disgrace.\nIV. The Calends of winter, the tops of the branches are bent;\n Uproar from the mouth of the vicious is common;\n Where there is no natural gift there will be no learning.\nV. The Calends of winter, blustering is the weather,\n Unlike the beginning of summer;\n Except God, there is none that divines.\nVI. The Calends of Winter, gay the plumage of birds;\n Short the day; loud the cuckoos;\n Mercifully has the most beneficent God made them.\nVII, The Calends of winter, it is hard and dry;\n Very black is the raven, quick the arrow from the bow;\n At the stumbling of the old, the smile of the youth is apt to break out.\nVIII. The Calends of winter, lean is the stag:\n Woe to the weak! if he chafes, it will be but for a short while;\n Truly better is amiability than beauty.\nIX. The Calends of winter, bare is where the heath is burnt,\n The plough is in the furrow; the ox at work;\n Amongst a hundred there is hardly a friend.","title":"Four Ancient Books of Wales: X. Poems Attributed to Llywa...","type":"page"}