An Husor Bughes

Y tevnydhyas skathow-draylya yn arenebedh an Yukon yn Alaska bys y'n 1980ow dhe balas owr a-dhyworth gweliow pollow bian. Hag an skathow ma ow movya, i a vynnsa lyftya'n pri ha'n godhes ha'ga thowlel war-dhelergh dhedhi, ow tivagli'n owr orth mones. Dre wul hemma, i a vynnsa movya desedhans an poll ha balya owr a arenebedh bras. Yma'n bardhonek ma selyes war wydhyow a welis a skath-dhraylya forsakyes, yn unn vreyna y'n tyller may kasas nans yw moy es 60 bledhen. Orth goles an folen ma yma'n gwydhyow a welis a awenas an bardhonek.  Dredgers were used in the Yukon region of Alaska until the 1980's to dig gold from the beds of small ponds. As these barges moved, they would lift the clay and sediment and throw them behind it, separating the gold as they went. In doing this, they would move the location of the pond and mine gold from a large area. This poem is based on a video I saw of an abandoned dredge, rotting where it had been left over 60 years befo

Ny wrav vy leverel gowyow, pur dha yw genev diwes tevesik po dew (po tri po pajar po moy). My a skrifas an bardhonek ma y'n hav usi passyes wosa gorthugher poos a worvedhwi hag omlowenhe. Yn golow an nessa myttin, mar dha re bia, ny yllis vy enebi travyth rag nebes ourys. Selyes war ow thybyansow dhe'n pols na, ha termynyow erel a'n par, yw an bardhonek ma ytho.  I shan't tell a lie, I'm very fond of an adult beverage or two (or three or four or more). I wrote this poem last summer after a heavy evening of merriment. In the light of the next morning, as good as it had been, I could not face anything for quite a few hours. This poem, for its sins, is based on my thoughts at that time, and other similar instances. Agh ow jowl arta Yth esos omma Genev vy y'm gweli Ow le saw vy Hag ow holya a wrussys Kepar ha skolksewwas A'n barr nyhewer Yn unn dhri an gewer A sav lemmyn y'm penn Usi heb gorfen Hag a-dro hag a-dro Yma genev dha ro A sowdhen ow brys Ha klafhe