The Welsh 26treasures

O DrysorauBu i ‘26 Trysor o Gymru’ baru 26 sgwennwr gyda 26 o drysorau

o Lyfrgell Genedlaethol Cymru. Roedd y trysorau’n amrywio o

lyfr canoloesol Aneirin i restr o eiriau nodwyd gan Dylan Thomas,

ynghyd â’r recordiad cyntaf o Anthem Genedlaethol Cymru. Roedd

y brîff yn syml - ysgrifennu darn mewn 62 gair a ysbrydolwyd

gan eich trysor. Cafwyd 13 darn o waith yn y Gymraeg, ac 13 darn

o waith yn Saesneg. Tý Cyfieithu Cymru (sef partneriaeth rhwng

Cyfnewidfa Lên Cymru a Thý Newydd, sy’n rhan o Llenyddiaeth

Cymru) fu’n gyfrifol am baru pob darn gwreiddiol gyda chyfieithydd.

Bydd y cyfieithiadau oll yn cael eu beirniadu a’u harddangos yma

yn Eisteddfod Genedlaethol Wrecsam a’r Fro.

‘26 Treasures Wales’ paired 26 writers with 26 artefacts from the

National Library of Wales. The treasures ranged from the medieval

book of Aneirin to a list of words by Dylan Thomas and the first

recording of the Welsh national anthem. The brief was simple –

write a 62-word poem inspired by your object. One group of 13

writers created work in Welsh, and the other 13 wrote in English.

Translators House Wales (partnership between Welsh Literature

Wales and Tŷ Newydd, which is part of Literature Wales), paired

each piece of work with a translator. The translations of all the

pieces will be judged and displayed here at the National Eisteddfod

in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com

Made by Fabric Studio

Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Gruffudd Antur

Gorymdaith Merched y Maerdy (llun)

Diamser fu dyfnderoedd – eu hysbryd, ond ar hyd y strydoedd rhyw frwydr ofer ydoedd rhoi her i’r amser a oedd.

Mae’r glofeydd mor rhugl o fud – a bywiog eiriog eu seguryd;

y glo fel gwagle hefyd, ond argoel iaith drwy’r glo o hyd.

Un her ydy’r faner fyw - un brotest yn barhad diledryw

am nad safiad eiliad yw: brwydr a bery ydyw.

1

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Matthew Club

Maerdy Womens Support Group (photo)

Their ocean of spirit is timeless;But this surge through the street,A battle now obsolete,

The tide’s turned, the time’s gone.

Eloquent, silent pits – a stillnessAlive with words;

Through the rock’s empty innardsA seam of language, still here.

One banner alive, one protest, endless,An iron link unbroken;

Not one moment, stilled, done,The fight goes on: no end

2


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Ifor ap Glyn

Evan Roberts (sain)

(Silindr cwyr gyda recordiad o Evan Roberts

yn arwain cyfarfod yn ystod Diwygiad 1904-5)

...dyma gannwyll anghyflawn

a’r llais

sy’n weindio’n gylchoedd o’i chwmpas,

yn llosgi yn nychymyg yr hil o hyd;

llais gwaredigol

yn gaddo ein golchi

(er bod rhyddmau londri y silindr hwn

yn bygwth ei foddi);

llais nodwydd

sy’n cyson hercian dros y craciau,

mewn ail iaith,

wrth ddringo i’w ddiwygiol hwyliau...

...ac erys y cyfarfod cwyr hwn

ar ei hanner

hyd dragwyddoldeb...

3

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Gwyneth Owen

Evan Roberts (sound)

(Wax Cylinder with a recording of Evan

Roberts leading a Revival meeting 1904-5)

...here is an imperfect candle,

with the voice

circling its perimeter

still burning a flame in the nation’s consciousness;

the redeeming voice

promising to launder our sins,

almost drowned

by the cylinder’s washing machine rhythms.

the needle’s voice,

persistently tripping over the cracks

in an unfamiliar tongue,

to reach a revivalist crescendo...

...the fervour of this waxen service

remains paused

for ever.

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Annes Glynn

Lineage since the age of Adam(Ach, ar femrwn, o linell frenhinol Prydain a Lloegr o Adda i Edward IV - ail hanner y bymthegfed ganrif)

Llinach

Gwreiddyn

|

ein gofyn

|

i gyd:

|

“Pwy wyf i?’’

O frenin i’r werin, turiwn rhwng plygion hen femrynau, ein bysedd yn dawnsio dros y clytwaith cnotiog, pwythau’r genynnau’n

edafedd gwydn dan ein dwylo.

Dadrolio’r sgrôl anystwyth, hir nes canfod, yn disgwyl amdanom yn ei phen draw, Adda ei hun. Yn dyllau pryfed byw. Staen tywyll ac wyneb cwyr. A chwestiwn lond ei galon.

5

Addasiad gan / Adaptation by Paul Henry

Lineage since the age of Adam

Lineage

Who am I?

Root the centuries for an answer.

From King Primate to refugeeI scratched the parched earth for water,food, unstitching my lineagefrom the cracked plains,

believing in it.

Here, read this… read my dead palm.

Who am I?

An unravelled scroll of hungerWith Darwin tattooed on my brow.

Flies bore into me, settle on my son’s eyes.

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Hywel Meilyr Griffiths

Hengwrt, Chaucer

TeilwerFouke Dutton, teiliwr a maer Caer yn yr unfed ganrif ar bymtheg, oedd un o geidwaid cynta’r llawysgrif.

I deilwyr y dudalen,

Rheiny fu’n dilladu llên,

Nid yw yn hawdd mynd yn hen.

Nid yw’r ddalen ddienw

Yn ddalen wen, iddyn nhw Y lliw hýn sy’n ei llanw.

Mae ôl ar ei hymylon.

Hen eisiau am hanesion,Geiriau’n drwch dan lwch y lôn.

O gam i gam, mor gymen Yw’r hen inc, fel camau’r hen Straeon yn nhrwst yr awen.

7

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Gwen Davies

Hengwrt, Chaucer

THE DRAPER(Fouke Dutton, a sixteenth-century Chester draper, was one of the first keepers of the Hengwrt Chaucer manuscript. Adam Pinkhurst may be one of its main scribes. A haberdasher, close in trade to a draper, is one of the pilgrims named in The Canterbury Tales’ ‘General Prologue’, whose beginning is the opening folio of the Hengwrt Chaucer ms.)

Yes, clothes make the manyet I make others

provide the covers

of books for authors:

soft cloth, staining brown,label stitched behind.

**

from stile to waypost

relooping traces

these leaves tattle – tales

across ages – shred

unravel – drape; frill

twigs pointing this way:

leafless m.s. lane –

a snow satin bolt

awaits shears, pinking

signature, my thin-

veiled style, veining Pink-hurst, Dutton, Pilgrim,

Haberdash-anon.






















in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Mererid Hopwood

Llyfr Mawr y Plant

’Mond codi’r clawr,

fy mhlentyn glân,

cei estyn y cloc mawr,

a’i droi ymla’n

ar ras sbid whiw,

troi trefn y sgweiar plwy’,heb siw na miw,

a’i phen i lawr,

a thrwy’r straeon sgrifen llaicei dyfu’n fwy.

A phan ddaw’r dydd i estyn gwên dy blant dy hun i’th gôl,

cei ddysgu, fesul llun,

i droi’r hen gloc yn ôl.

9

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Elin ap Hywel

Storybook

Just lift the cover,

blue-eyed one;

reach for the long-case clock,wind it on.

At breakneck pace

you’ll turn the squire’s rule,quiet as can be

into a ship of fools:

as print grows finer,

so will you.

And when time gathers up your smiling children on your lapyou too will learn, scene by scene,to turn the old clock back.

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Jerry Hunter

Awdl Hedd Wyn

Mae seremoni’r Cadeirio yn Eisteddfod Penbedw yn un o’r digwyddiadau hanesyddol hynny sydd wedi magu grym chwedl. Mae’n stori eiconaidd sy’n crisialu difrod rhyfel. Cofiwn y bardd na ddaeth yn ôl o gaeau Passchendaele i hawlio’i gadair. Cofiwn y golled.

Cawn stori wahanol yn y llawysgrif hon. Llaw’r bardd byw ar waith. Dyhead awen. Dyma fywyd.

11

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Damian Walford Davies

Hedd Wyn’s poem

Staged history, soon draped in myth: that black congress of Bards at Birkenhead. A very parable of war’s sheer waste. The icon: a chair, untenanted by a poet’s Passion in the mire of Passchendaele. That emptiness; lest we forget.

But these drafts, they tell a different tale. Here’s the living poet’s longhand; you can see it labouring. Inspiration’s reveille. This is life.

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Christine James

Llyfr Du Caerfyrddin

cerdd darogan

Caewyd Llyfr Du Caerfyrddin:

mud o hyn allan Myrddin,

rhoed taw ar lais Taliesin.

Aeth pob llythyren yn llwch

heb dân Sgolan. Daeth t’wyllwch,

a’n hen lên yn ddirgelwch.

Bu bwystfil trwy’r bedwenni

a bawa ar y beddi.

Gogonedd yn llaid y lli.

Nid cain yn awr cyntefin:

distaw cogau, cnydau crin.

Heb gâr hyd byth mab Erbin.

Caewyd Llyfr Du Caerfyrddin.

13

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Katie Gramich

Black Book of Carmarthen

poem of prediction

They shut the Black Book of Carmarthen:

Merlin is mute, forever hidden,

Taliesin’s voice will not speak again.

Every letter is crumbled to cinders

without Scolan’s fire. Nothing hinders

The darkness; our pages are tinder.

A beast breaks through the birches,

the ancient graves besmirches;

Cuckoos are silent, withered the corn;

Geraint forever is lovelorn.

They shut the Black Book of Carmarthen.

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Sian Northey

Map Humphre y Llwyd

Dwi isio mynd tua’r de i dý fy nghariad. Rhwng gronnynau papur y Traeth Bychan dwi’n llithro i’th greadigaeth ac yn teithio heibio’th goedwigoedd inc a thrwy dy drefi bychain a’u baneri’n cwhwfan yn eu manylder. Rhywle ar y daith fe’th gwelaf di, y dyn â thalcen uchel ac egin gwên, ac rwy’n dy sicrhau y pery clod yn hwy na golyd.

15

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Tony Bianchi

Humphre y Llwyd’s Map

I seek my lover’s house in the south. Between Traeth Bychan’s sheaves of sand I slip into your universe. Skirting your ink woods, I thread through the little towns, wave back at their meticulous flags. And then, somewhere en route, I see you, high browed, offering the merest hint of a smile when I assure you that fame does, indeed, outlive fortune.

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Angharad Price

Llyfr Coffa Aberfan

‘Tawelwch’

(geiriau’r tystion)

‘Roedd y swn yn ofnadwy, fel rhu jet.’

‘Duodd y swn y ffenest

A’i thorri.’

‘Yn y tawelwch wedyn

nid oedd aderyn

na phlentyn i’w glywed.’

‘Dim cri. Dim adlais.

Dim ond tawelwch angau.’

‘Daeth llais trwy’r tawelwch.

Pen pin o oleuni.

Rhoddais fy mys ynddo

A dringo allan.’

‘Tawelwch y gweddill ohonom

Ar yr iard.’

‘Tawelwch lle bu cant o blant.’

17

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Elisabeth Roberts

Aberfan Remembrance Book

‘Silence’

(witness accounts)

‘A terrible noise, like a jet’s roar.’

‘It blackened the window,

Breaking it.’

‘Afterwards, in the silence,

not a bird

nor a child to be heard.’

‘No cry. No echo.

Death’s silence.’

‘A voice through the silence.

A pinprick of light.

I put my finger in it

And climbed out.’

‘Our survivors’ silence

In the yard.’

‘Silence for a hundred children slain.’

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Dafydd John Pritchard

Cyflwyniad PowerPoint ar Y Lleuad Uwch Pumlumon

A beth yn union sy’n naïf am hwn?

• Ai’r cymylau hyn a’u plygion hufen iâ?

• Ai’r graig fan hyn fel patio drud, dichwaeth?

• Ai’r carwr hwn a’i bicwarch stiff a’i ystol fach, rhy fach i gyrraedd Gwen?

• Ai’r pentre’ cerdyn Dolig yn y bryniau?

• Neu’r ffaith fod heno’n olau dydd ar lawr y dyffryn?

Cwestiwn: ai’r cwestiwn, fy nghwestiwn, falle, sy’n naïf?

19

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Eurig Salisbury

A ‘PowerPoint’ Presentation on‘The Moon Rising Over Plinlimon’

So what exactly is it that’s naive about this?

• These pillowed, ice-cream clouds?

• This rock, a tasteless, chic patio?

• This lover with his pitchfork erect and his ladder too short, too short to reach Gwen?

• This picture postcard hamlet in the hills?

• Or the fact that the night is awash with sunlight?

Question: is it the question, my question, maybe, that’s naive?

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Aled Jones Williams

‘Hwyl a Sbri gyda Sefydliad y Merched, a Thrip Ysgol Sul Brynsiencyn’ (ffilm)

Heddiw y mae chwe deg a dau o eiriau yn llawer rhy ychydig i sôn am y Cymry Cymraeg hyn- mae gennyf ddigon a mwyi’w benthyg iddynt -

yn eu mudandod

yn chwerthin,

yn hapus. Ond

a ddaw dydd pan fydd hynny’n ormod?Mi wnaiff deg. Mi wnaiff tri. Mi wnaiff un.I genedl gyfan, ddistaw

mewn arch

-if

ar ffilm

heb ‘run.

21

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Marged Haycock

Fun and Games with the Women’s Institute, and Brynsiencyn Sunday School Outing (film)

Today, three score words and two are far too few — I’ve got plenty to lend them, and more — to talk about these Welsh speakersin their muteness,

laughing, chwerthin,

happy, hapus. But

will there come a day when that’s just too many?when ten words will do; three; one,for a whole people, silent,unspooling

in a vault

with none.

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Tony Bianchi

Kyffin Williams(Hunan Bortread 1958)

Mae hwn yn gwisgo caeau ar ei ysgwydd –

rhai bach sgwâr, caregog

ar lethrau serth.

Mae’r pridd yn drwm

ond yn gynnes,

a’r walydd yn gadarn.

Yn ei gefn y mae’r haul,

heb ffiniau,

yn llachar fel pwl o’r bendro.

Dwg ohono

edafedd coch a melyn

a’u gweu trwy’r clai,

trwy’r cnawd.

Brethyn cartref.

23

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Alison Layland

Kyffin Williams(Self Portrait 1958)

The shoulders of this man’s shirt are fields –

small, square and stony

on the steep slopes.

The earth is heavy

but yet it is warm,

and the walls stand firm.

At his back the sun,

with boundless light,

is bright like a dizzying spell.

Draw from him now

red and yellow yarns

and weave them through the clay,

through the flesh.

Homespun.

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Karen Owen

Yn Y Llyfr Hwn

Geiriau mud fu’n gramadegers brawddegau’r dechrau’n deg:

anghyfarwydd fu’n gwyddor a’n dweud yn ddweud hwnt i ddôr:

ar ddalen anllythrennog geiriau rhad fu gweddi’r grog:

a gardd hardd y werin hon oedd gywilydd y galon

am mai oer fu tymhorau

yr hil ar femrwn parhau:

O Breis i Breis mae byw’r iaith - ni’n hunain ydyw’n heniaithym mwlch yr argraffu maith.

25

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Angharad Brown

In this Book

Mute words were our grammarfrom sentences of first endeavour:

unfamiliar our own knowing, bound and bordered our saying:

on illiterate paper

cheap words the rood’s prayer:

this peasantry’s cultivated placewas the heart’s disgrace:

for cold were the seasonsof the parchment’s chosen ones:

From Price to Price lives the language - ourselves the quickened pagein printing’s pause, age to age.

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Gillian Clarke

Llyfr Aneirin

The Book of Aneirin

Sorrow sharp as yesterday, a lamentpassed down and learned by heart until that moment

when the scribe began to write.

Fifteen centuries later,

words still hymn their worth, young men, all but one slaughtered, lost in the hills of the Old North.

Blood-ballad

of the battlefield

on quires of quiet pages, laid leafon leaf like strata of stone, Aneirin’s grief.

27

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Twm Morys

Llyfr Aneirin

Llyfr Aneirin

Roedd y gyflafan ar gân gynt,A’r gofid i gyd ar go’.

Yna, ysgrifennu:

Roedd y gwae ar ddu a gwyn.

Bu pymtheg canrif... Ond ifancY daw’r gwr drwy’r geiriau,I gyd namyn un yn gyrff Ym medd ein Hen Ogledd ni.

Fesul dalen sgrifennwyd

Y cur, fel haenau carreg,

A’r faled waed ar felwm,

Ar glawr yn awr: galar Aneirin.

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by John Simmons

Mary Dilwyn photo album, 1853

Fall and spring

Mary, are you now weeping

over your snowman sleeping?

As I sit here staring

at monochrome fading

with memory melting

at edges of pages ageing

to feel snow slipping

in my mind recalling

a winter’s ice thawing

whiteness withdrawing

leaving landscape flowering

distant voices shouting.

Jessie, are you seeing

star crystals falling?

Is the snowman there for forming

before your twinkling eyes?

29

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Sian Melangell Dafydd

Albwm luniau Mary Dilwyn, 1853

Hydref a gwanwyn

Mary, wyt ti rwan yn crio

dros bendwmpian dy ddyn eira?

Eisteddaf yma’n syllu

wrth i fonocrom bylu

a chof doddi

ar ymylon tudalennau’n heneiddio

teimlaf eira’n llithro

yn fy atgof

o rew gaea’n toddi

gwynder’n cilio

rhyddhau tirwedd i flodeuo

lleisiau pell i floeddio.

Jessie, weldi

ddymchwel crisialau sêr?

Yw’r dyn eira yna i lunio’i hun

o flaen pefriad dy lygaid?

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Anita Holford

Map of the British islesPtolemy, 200 A.D; Johann Reger,1486

Whatever people say I am ... I’m not

I am not what I seem.

An anomaly in cartography,my longitude and latitude,meridians and idioms,

created, fêted, and then lost.

Time passed.

Great nations rose and fell,the world turned,

knowledge froze, until

Rediscovered in Corinthium,Dark Ages turned to light,they printed me, pressed me, and shared my truth:perhaps the distance in between us,is small, after all.

31

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Sian Northey

Map o Ynysoedd Prydain Ptolemy, 200 A.D; Johann Reger,1486

Beth bynnag a ddywedant... gwahanol wyf.

Rwy’n gamarweiniol.

Gwyriad mewn cartograffeg,fy hydred a fy lledred,

fy nawnlin, fy idiomau

oll wedi’u creu, eu cyfarch ac yna’u colli.

Treiglodd amser.

Aeth y mawr yn bethau bychain,trodd y rhod,

ceulodd gwybodaeth, ac yna

Yr ailgaffael yn Nghorinthium,Yr Oesau Tywyll eto’n oleuedig,a hwythau’n fy argraffu a rhannu fy ngwirioneddau:efallai nad yw’r pellter rhyngddomond megis cam.

32






















in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Paul Murphy

Self-portrait, Siani Rhys James

Studio in Gloves

Sweet transient taste of innocence

so early imbibed

lingers but fleetingly

Light turns to shade

brilliance leaches away

Horizons shorten, perspectives distort

Falling, falling, falling from grace

Pitilessly the mind’s eye cuts

through layers of artifice

so contrived

worrying, distressing

raw ulcerous weeping sores below

Trapped and bereft

she silently screams

“out, out damn spot”

echoing soundlessly down all those

empty years.

33

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Geraint Løvgreen

Hunan bortread Siani Rhys James

Stiwdio mewn Menyg

Prin y pery

blas melys byrhoedlog diniweidrwydd

a sugnwyd mor fore

Try goleuni’n gysgod

pyla disgleirdeb

Byrha gorwelion, ystumia safbwyntiau

Wrth syrthio, syrthio, syrthio oddi wrth ras

Yn ddidostur treiddia llygad y meddwl

drwy haenau ffug

hynod ffals

gan boenydio, blino

briwiau diferol dolurus cignoeth islaw

Yn gaeth ac amddifad

sgrechia’n ddistaw

“ymaith, ystaen damnedig”

gan atseinio’n fud drwy’r holl

flynyddoedd gweigion.

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Elise Valmorbida

Illustrated pamphlet of Humpty

Dumpty rhyme in seven languages

Humpty Dumpty saved by the

National Library of Wales

All things fall and break and die—

Even a king’s favourite, saluted in seven tongues,

falls off his wall, tiny Icarus legs waving in the

upside-down air—

One must break an egg to make an omelette—

Here lies his life-story, conserved in vaults of

concrete and steel, braced against force, flood

and fire—

And yet

All things fall and break and die.

35

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Gareth Miles

Taflen darluniedig o rigwm Humpty

Dumpty mewn saith o ieithoedd

Llyfrgell Genedlaethol Cymru

yn achub Humpty Dumpty

Cwympo, malurio a threngi yw tynged popeth

heb ethrio anwylyn y teyrn, a folir mewn saith iaith

Cwymp oddi ar ei fur a’i goesau bach Icaraidd yn

chwifio’n y wybren wyneb-i-waered –

Ni cheir omlet heb dorri wy –

Wele ei gofiant, mewn seler o ddur a choncrit,

yn ddiogel rhag terfysg, dwr a thân –

Serch hynny

Cwympo, malurio a threngi yw tynged popeth

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Elen Lewis

Film of Lloyd Georgemeeting Hitler

Megan eats grapes

Father, I say

If only poetry could tell it backwards, true,Cariad, he says

Begin with the truth against the world.

Father, we are

Playing shadows pinned against Bavarian skyMegan, he says

Under that hat, you’re a cross, a crossing out.

Father, I watch

Sideways, beneath, at his faceI see, the white

Knife flash, slicing hills with blood red flags.

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Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Rhys Iorwerth

Ffilm o Lloyd George yn cyfarfod Hitler

Megan yn bwyta grawnwin

Tada, ebe fi,

Pe na baem ond yn gweld y gwir i gyd.Cariad, ebe fe,

Dechreua â’r gwir yn erbyn y byd.

Tada, cysgodion

Yn y llwydni dros Fafaria ydym ni. Megan, ebe fe,

Creu llun o groes trwy wisgo’r het wyt ti.

Tada, rwy’n gweld

Drwyddo, heibio i bob boch,Y llafn sy’n hollti’r

Bryniau’n waed o dan faneri coch.

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in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Jo Thomas

Inspired by a volume of The North American Indian by Edward S. Curtis

Stopped on a stepping stoneA feather caught by water-withered leavesStaring down into the turquoise bowl of the sky

Waiting for a cloud to greet the groundA cupped hand, uncreased and categorisedCarved on the day’s silver surface

Wrapped in a tissue paper twistA hidden face crossed by thought and thunderReady to be sown into the treeless earth

39

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Siôn Aled Owen

Ysbrydolwyd gan un o gyfrolau The North American Indian gan Edward S. Curtis

Yno’n stond ar garreg sarn pluen a ddaliodd y dail yn henaint y dwrsy’n syllu i ddyfnder gwyrddlas y nen

yn aros am gwmwl i gusanu’r ddaearllaw ddisgwylgar heb na chraith na labela gerfiwyd ar wyneb arian y dydd

mewn darn o hances bapurwyneb cudd yn taranu dirnadaeth yn holi am ei hau mewn daear nad adwaen bren

40






















in Wrexham.

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Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Alastair Creamer

Hen Wlad Fy NhadauSung by Madge BreeseRecorded in London on 11 March 1899The first known recording of the Welsh National Anthem

I draw the rise and fall of the quivering tuneAnd like a brass rubbing, a mountain range reveals itselfPeaks, valleys, Snowdonia – Hen Gymru fynyddigShe’s singing her land into existence – a SonglineThe piano is the rock

The static is the atmosphere, the air, the electricityHer voice is all contour and shape, vulnerableAnd as fine as Welsh lace

41

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by John Rowlands

Hen Wlad Fy NhadauCenir gan Madge BreeseRecordiwyd yn Llundain ar Fawrth 11eg 1899Y recordiad cyntaf y gwyddys amdano o Anthem Genedlaethol Cymru

Rwy’n amlinellu llanw a thrai yr alaw grynedigAc fel wrth grafu pres, daw cadwyn o fynyddoedd i’r golwgCopaon, dyffrynnoedd, Eryri – Hen Gymru fynyddigMae’n canu ei gwlad i fodolaeth –

rhyw Linell o Gân Aborigineaidd

Y piano yw’r graig

Y cracio yw’r awyrgylch, yr awyr, y trydanMae’i llais yn llawn amlinellau a ffurf, brau Ac mor fain â sidan Cymreig

42






















in Wrexham.

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Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Chris Bird

Dylan Thomas word list

Above the gull-strewn, sand-duned bay

Where water rip-curls, spurting spray

At sullen skies that threaten rain,

He crumples paper; tries again

Lighting his umpteenth cigarette,

Sifting thesaurus and alphabet,

He aspirates and assonates as he inscribes

The creamy page with blue word-tribes

Striving, in the ever-creeping gloom

Of his womb-like, tomb-like room,

Though brain-wracked and battle-scarred,

To be THE poet; THE bard

43

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Hilma Lloyd Edwards

Rhestr eiriau Dylan Thomas

Uwch twyni’r bae a’i wylain lu

Lle troella dwr, tasgu ewyn fry

At awyr flin sy’n bygwth glawio,

Gwasga bapur; cynnig eto.

A’i gant-a-milfed sigarét ynghyn,

Gogrwn geiriadur a gwyddor fyn,

Treiglo, cyseinio, rhoi â blas

Ar ddalen wen llwyth geiriau glas.

Ymdrechu ’ngwyll ymledol ’stafell

Sydd megis croth, megis claddgell,

Er meddwl ysig, creithiau brwydr,

I fod Y bardd; YR awdur.

44






















in Wrexham.

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Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Lin Sagovsky

Old banknotesFollowing Which Messrs. Evans, Jones and Davies Sacked the Agency and Later Went Into Liquidation

Aber & Treg – for when your sheep comes in.

Safely graze – because things aren’t always black and white.

Get the daggy habit.

Mint source!

Shear ewesury.

The ultimate droving experience.

Who puts the ram in your ram-a-lamb-a chink-chink?

Take a gambol!

The bank that likes to say flock.

Tup quality from your local baa.

Sheep like Dolly like lolly.

Folding. We are.

45

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Hywel Meilyr Griffiths

Hen arian papurYn Dilyn Hyn Saciodd Messrs. Evans, Jones a Daviesyr Asiantaeth cyn Mynd yn Fethdalwyr eu Hunain

Aber & Treg – yn corlannu’r praidd.

Banc Alun Mamon – i’r bugail newydd.

Hel a didol yn deidi.

Cneifio’r costau.

Banc yr Hwrdd - arian i’r meheryn!

Yswiriant - rhag y ddafad golledig.

Prancio wrth fancio.

Yn brefu o brofiad.

Wyt ti’n arbed arian? Oen i!

Peidiwch bod yn ddafad ddu.

Banc y Famog, - lleol i’w chnu.

Aeth yr hwch drwy’r siop.

46






















in Wrexham.

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Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Kate Elliott

Aunt Gwen’s Map

The Weight

Stooped and stoic,

The burden of work never easing,

Always propelling.

A journey in stasis, the borders hold her back,

But this is her home.

The weight she feels is a comfort,

Laden with treasures and memories within,

The figurine looks back as she roves and roams,

Reminding her of what has been.

Looking forward, never tiring, always striding,

Our Modryb Gwen.

47

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Glenys Roberts

Map Modryb Gwen

Dan ei phwn

Crwm yw hon, a dyfal;

y gwaith di-ildio ar ei chefn yn bwysau

a’i gyr ymlaen.

Taith ar ei hanner, y ffiniau’n ei thynnu’n ôl,

ond dyma’i chartref.

Y baich iddi’n gysur -

trysorau, atgofion o’i fewn.

Edrych yn ôl mae’r ladi fach,

ei hatgoffa o’r hyn a fu.

Ond ymlaen yn ddiflino, gan ddal i frwydro,

â hi,

ein Modryb Gwen.

48






















in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com


Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Charli Matthews

Geoff Charles Tryweryn (photo)

They walk and they shout. Can you hear us Liverpool? Liverpool will reply ‘the water is coming, keep walking.’ So the town will put down their banners and pick up their lives and lock their houses to the uninvited caller who will come in anyway. And the people who spilt the water will say they’re sorry, but it will be too late.

49

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Diarmuid Johnson

Tryweryn Geoff Charles (llun)

Cerdded y maent a bloeddio. A glywch ni, Lerpwl? Ateb Lerpwl fydd: ‘dod mae’r dwr, cerddwch rhagoch’. Felly rhoi ei baneri i lawr wnaiff y dref, a gafael yn eu bywydau, a chloi eu tai rhag yr ymwelydd nas gwahoddwyd, er y daw hwnnw i mewn ta beth. Ac ymddiheuro wnaiff y sawl ollyngodd y dwr, ond fe fydd yn rhy hwyr.

50






















in Wrexham.

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Ysgrifennwyd gan / Written by Fiona Egglestone

The Two Sisters of Llanfechell

(photo)

Don’t know what to make of this portrait business.

Gentleman arrives, middle of the afternoon

Doesn’t he know it’s laundry day?

Upstairs will be complaining

if their tea’s late.

What does he want to take our picture for?

Us in our everyday clothes

Work still in our hands

Sit down, as you are, says he.

Is it going to take much longer?

51

Cyfieithwyd gan / Translated by Meg Elis

Dwy Chwaer Llanfechell

(llun)

Ddim yn siwr be i neud o’r miri llun ‘ma.

Dyn diarth yn cyrraedd, landio fel huddug i botas

A hitha’n ddwrnod golchi.

Fydd ‘na hen gwyno gynno nhw’r byddigions

os na ddaw eu te mewn pryd.

I be ma isio tynnu llun?

Ninna fel rydan ni

a gwaith lond yn haffla.

Eisteddwch, fel yna’n deg, medda fynta.

Fyddwn ni yma’n hir?

52






















in Wrexham.

www.26treasures.com

Documents

The Welsh 26treasures