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Dha Jayr

 Termyn hir heb postya meur obma (dell yw usys). Otta bardhonek nowyth a-dro dhe'm tas-gwydn ha'y jayr leska barrednow koth hag yw genev lebmyn.

Mar mydnowgh redya moy genev yn fenowggha, my a bost bardhonogow kott war BlueSky yn tabm moy usadow.

Been a while without posting here (tell me something new). Here's a short poem about my grandad and his wicker rocking chair that I now have.

If you'd like to read more of my work more often, I post short poems on BlueSky slightly more regularly.

Dha Jayr 

Ty a asas legaci,

Moy es hanow

Po gnasow bejeth,

Moy es linen goos

Po drolla hwarvosek:

Neppyth a-dro dhe jynnow-myji

Ha'n gwithans tre. 

Ty a'm gasas,

Ha'm tas,

Ha'm breder.

Ty a asas kovyow

A viajys tren dhe vys an puskes,

A isyow gols dehen brill,

A vosow Sul.

Ty a asas legaci

Ha chayr

Hag ynno mayth esedhav

Ha tybi ahanas

Pub dydh.

Your Chair

You left a legacy,

More than a name

Or facial features,

More than a bloodline

Or the incidental droll:

Something about lawmowers

And the home guard. 

You left me,

And my dad,

And my brothers. 

You left memories

Of fish-bound train rides,

Of brill cream hair styles, 

Of Sunday meals.

You left a legacy

And a chair

In which I sit

And think of you

Every day.


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