Nans yw lies bledhen, my a glowas drolla gans mamm koweth a-dro dhe husores bughes leel yn arenebedh Lyskerrys. Hy hanow o Mrs Harris ha, herwydh an drolla, hi o mamm dhe werther bondennow aswonys yn ta y'n dre (an hanow yw klou). Y'n drolla, an tiek a vynnsa pellgowsel gans Mrs Harris ha hi a vynnsa gwellhe bughes jest dre wodhvos yn py ke mayth esens. An drolla ma yw onan an mogha kerys genev ha my a gar an tybyans a dhyski husa bughes - mes ny drovis vy kors hwath.
Yn neb kas, a-is yma bardhonek a skrifis a solempen Mrs Harris ha'n pystri a husa bughes - a pe po gwir po fals, yth yw hwath drolla hweg.
A few years ago, I hear a story from a friend's mum about a local cattle charmer in the Liskeard area. Her name was Mrs Harris and, according to the story, she was the mother of a local tyre salesman in the town (there's a clue in the name). In the story, the farmer would phone Mrs Harris and she would heal the cows just by knowing in which field there were. This is one of my favourite stories and I love the idea of learning cattle charming - but I haven't found a course yet...
Anyway, below is a poem I wrote celebrating Mrs Harris and the magic of cattle charming - be it true or false, it's still a lovely story.
My a wor agas payn | I know of your pain Although we haven't met And apart from this thought We won't come together
From my safe place I see your home And imagine your illness As if it were my own
I pass in your way Maintaining the beat And I will try To give you life
I weaken now My eyes are tired And you rise again In reflection
There is only one heart Shared by all Which leads the beauty That exists here
I know your pain After meeting before And by sharing this thought We are together |
Comments
Post a Comment