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.