Menna Elfyn

威尔士文

Elin ap Hywel

英文

Drws yn Epynt

Mae yna ddrws sydd yn cau yn ei gyfer 
a drws sydd yn drysu amser,
a’r gnoc sydd yn destun dwyster. 

Ac er mor anial oedd ei hannedd,
yr aelwyd hon oedd man cyfannedd, 
dan ddrws doi curwynt tangnefedd. 

Nid adwy, na chroesi rhyd a orfu, 
na gelyn—dim ond cennad deddfu; 
“Lle perffaith i las fyddin i saethu.” 

Yna, ar frys gyda gwŷs, cael gwared
â phreswylwyr y tir, ar drum nodded, 
wrth ildio i’r lifrai gwargaled.  

Nid heb lef. Cyn troi allan, dyma ofyn 
“A ga’ i’r drws a’r bwlyn i’r bwthyn?” 
Yn waglaw, disgynnodd i’r dyffryn.  

Eto weithiau, ar lym awel, clywn ddychryn— 
brath y drws yn agor, cau’n gyndyn.
“Gwrando pa drwst.” “Daear a gryn.” Gan erfyn. 

从: Murmur
Tarset: Bloodaxe, 2012
录制: Wales Literature Exchange

A Door in Epynt

There’s a door which closes by itself,
a door that deludes time,
one knock and there’s fighting talk.
And although she lived in the back of beyond 
this hearth was her harmony, 
its underlay, the chill of tranquillity.
No stand-off or ford to cross,
no enemy but the purchase order:
“A perfect place, this, for a squaddie’s mess.” 
Armed with warrants, in haste they removed
the people from the land. Then the hills of refuge 
surrendered to the combats’ heavy outfits. 

Not without a plea. Before turning her back: 
“May I keep the door to the cottage?” 
Empty handed, she left for the village. 

Yet, when the east wind howls, I hear terror— 
the door slam shut and, then, flung open. 
Listen to its sounds. Earth shakes. Pleading. 

Translated by Elin ap Hywel