The double bay of Nefyn and Morfa Nefyn, with Porthdinllaen and the famous Tŷ Coch (Red House) beach pub on the further peninsula, taken from Gwilwyr, a hill behind our house in Mynydd Nefyn. On a clearer day, the Wicklow Mountains in Ireland can be seen on the horizon.
Mae'r bae dwbl yn las, glas hefyd ydy'r awyr - ydy'r caeau'n las?
Mynydd Nefyn, Mis Rhagfyr 2020
Double bay is blue, blue also is the heaven – are the fields blue too?
Mynydd Nefyn, January 2021
A play on the fact that 'glas' in Welsh (mutating to 'las' after 'yn') is used both for the blue of sea and sky, and for the green of the countryside.
My Welsh is still pretty basic for something as complex as poetry ("Upper 1" Level, which is a bit beyond GCSE, I believe), so I'm handicapped by lack of knowledge of the language as well as lack of knowledge and practice composing poetry. I have started studying 'cynghanedd', the alliterative and rhyming schemes of formal Welsh poetry, but don't have the abililty to attempt it yet. I'm particularly interested in the micro-poetry in the form of 'englynion'.
When the National Eisteddfod came to Boduan, three miles from our house, I felt impelled to compete in as many competitions as possible. I managed seven in all: four intended for learners, and three open ones. In particular, I wrote a poem for the learners' chair competition, on the given subject of 'Glannau' (Shores). I didn't get a mention by the judges, however.
Yn sefyll yn dal o flaen fy nrws, arna i mae'r machlud haul yn disgyn. Oddi tana i mae'r traeth. Bob haf ro'n i'n chwarae ar lan môr oer ond cyfeillgar â'm tair chwaer a rhieni gofalgar yng ngwawr bell fy mywyd. Ar draws y bae dwbl mae'r ail draeth lle collest ti dy fodrwy aur – arwydd ein bywyd efo'n gilydd. Daethost ti ar thraws hi drannoeth ar ôl yr ail llanw. Dw i'n weld o dan yr haul coch arfordir yr ynys gyfagos. Roedd hi'n byw yno, nghariad cyntaf, pan o'n i'n hogyn naïf: ydy hi'n draw o hyd? Tu hwnt i hynny mae'r cefnfor yn ymestyn i lan gwlad y rhydd. Draw acw blason ni'r bywyd ger dinas wyntog ar lyn eang efo'n dau o blant bach. Mae'r cylch yn hedfan ymlaen yn llygad clir nychymyg, i lan gwlad y blodau ceirios. Daeth fy ail gariad oddi yno: ydy hi'n gweld y wawr? Mae'r tiroedd yn llifo rŵan tan wlad y mynydd a'r llyn: ar lan un yn byw fy nhrydedd. Dwi'n ei chofio ar ôl y bêl: ydy hi'n ei chofio? Ac ymlaen i lan arall Llŷn, i'n hen dŷ cu ar y bryn wedi'i oleuo'n rosaidd. Yma mae cariad fy mywyd yn sefyll wrth fy ochr. Hanner canrif ers i ni gyfarfod: efo'n gilydd ar gyfer y machlud.
Mynydd Nefyn, Mis Mawrth 2023
Standing tall in front of my door, the sunset falls on me. Below me is the beach. Every summer I played on the shore of a cold but friendly sea with my three sisters and caring parents in the distant dawn of my life. Across the double bay is the second beach where you lost your gold ring – the symbol of our life together. You found it the next day after the second tide. I see under the red sun the coast of the neighbouring island. She lived there, my first sweetheart, when I was a naïve boy: is she still there? Beyond that is the ocean extending to the land of the free. Over there we tasted life near a windy city on a wide lake with our two small children. The circle flies on in the clear eye of my imagination, to the country of the cherry blossoms. My second sweetheart came from there: is she seeing the dawn? The lands are flowing now until the land of mountains and lakes: on the shore of one lives my third. I remember her after the ball: does she remember it? And on to the other side of Llŷn, to our dear old house on the hill rosy lit. Here the love of my life is standing by my side. Half a century since we met: with each other for the sunset.
Mynydd Nefyn, March 2023
I wrote this for the 2020 North Wales Learners' Eisteddfod, and translated it into English in January 2021 as a lockdown project. The given subject was 'Y Gors' (The Bog). I wasn't placed in that competition, but nonetheless entered it into the learners' section of the 2020 National Eisteddfod, in the hope that different judges would perceive it differently. Because of Covid, it was carried forward to the 2022 Eisteddfod, but still no such luck!
Mi welais fwd o'm cwmpas i, Estynnodd siglen oer a du; Ofnadwy oedd y golwg noeth Mor bell o dŷ sy'n sych a phoeth. I mi mae'r gors yn rhoi holl nwyd Fel math o uffern bywyd llwyd; Yn anghysurus, ac yn gas - Gyferbyn cryf â chefn gwlad glas. Ond dydy pobl ddim yn dod - Rhy wlyb i bawb o'r ddinas fod; Mae adar yn rheoli'r fan Ynghyd â phryfed ym mhob man. Mae'r lle, sy'n beryglus i ddyn, Yn nef i lyffaint yn eu llyn; A hefyd hafan blodau gwyllt Lle dan ni'n meddwl pethau'n hyll. Gwlyptiroedd ydy'r rhai 'ma'n llawn Lle mae natur yn ffynnu'n iawn; I ffwrdd o dorfeydd dyn i gyd Sy'n lledu difrod dros ein byd.
Mynydd Nefyn, Mis Mawrth 2020
I saw black mud stretch all around, A frigid swamp of boggy ground; The awful view was bleak and bare So far from warmth and human care. To me the bog seemed grey and fell, Invoked a kind of living hell; No comfort there, no pleasant air - In contrast to the hillside fair. But people do not choose to come - Too wet for city folk to roam; Instead the birds are rulers there Along with insects everywhere. The place, so dangerous to man, For frogs is part of heaven's plan; A haven too for flowers rare Where we think things are bleak and bare. These are wetlands, rich and good, Where nature thrives just as it should; Away from human crowds that scare And from their homes all creatures tear.
Mynydd Nefyn, January 2021