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...
Bardhonieth ha drollow derowel ha treylyes. Original and translated poetry and stories in Cornish. 🏳️🌈