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Sunday, 30 April 2017

Krennlavar (12)

KRENNLAVAR

Pa vez tro da goll eo gwell hanter eget holl (Lorsqu'on doit perdre, mieux vaut la moitié que le tout)
An den, pa vez sot ez yaouank-flamm, evit koshaat ne fura tamm (L'homme, quand il est sot tout jeune, ne devient pas plus sage en vieillissant)
Kountell dall a droc'h ar pezh a wel hag a laosk ar pezh a gar (Couteau aveugle (émoussé) tranche ce qu'il voit et laisse ce qui'l veut) (Un outil inadapté joue de mauvais tours)
Kousket a zo hanter voued (Dormir, c'est une demi-ration)
Ret eo terriñ ar graoñenn evit kaout ar vouedenn (Il faut briser la coque pour avoir la noix)

Diarebion (12)

Diarebion

Pob peth a ddaw trwy'r ddaear ond y marw mawr ei garchar
Gwell gochel ymryson na'i ddial
Gwell gwir na chelwydd
Gwell tewi na dywedyd drwg
Hawdd cymod lle bo cariad
Melys, moes mwy
Ceiniog a enillir ydyw'r geiniog a gynilir.

Triban Morgannwg (13)

TRIBAN MORGANNWG (Bro)

Mae brân a chi a chawci
I'w cael yn nhref Caerffili,
A thwr fu'n syndod llawer o's
Mor gam â cho's Wil Dwmi.

Hen Bennill (13)

Hen Bennill

Melys iawn yw llais aderyn
Fore haf ar ben y brigyn;
Ond melusach cael gan Gwenol
Eiriau heddwch wedio digio.

Harri Webb (Rampage & Revel) 'Gower Smugglers'

HARRI WEBB.
Rampage & Revel
Gower Smugglers

There's a Frenchman off the Mixon
Keeping clear of Mumbles light,
And we're rowing out to meet her
On a calm and moonlit night,
For there's stronger stuff than water
Lying bottled in her hold,
It's cargo worth the shifting
For Gower lads so bold.

       So it's ho! for Brandy Cove, my boys,
       It's ho ! for Brandy Cove.

Us'll beach un on the pobbles
Before the break of day,
And with the donkeys off the common
Us'll get un clean away,
And there's gentlemen in Swansea
As'll drink the King's health down
In wine that"s paid no duty
To the coffers of his crown

       So it's ho! for Brandy Cove, my boys,
       It's ho ! for Brandy Cove.

And Johnny Webb's patrolling
From Port Eynon to Pwlldu,
He'm a mighty smart excise-man
But un bain't as smart as we,
For we'll tiptoe up through Ha'slad
And round by Herbert's Lodge,
We know every lane and byway,
And we'mup to every dodge.

       So it's ho ! for Brandy Cove, my boys,
       It's ho ! for Brandy Cove.

So lean back on your benches,
Pull hard at the muffled oar,
For the Frenchy's showed his lantern,
And we'll soon be back on shore.
Back water now, my hearties,
Stand by to take it in,
For times be hard in Gower,
And smuggling ain't no sin.

       So it's ho ! for Brandy Cove, my boys,
       It's ho ! for Brandy Cove.

R. S. Thomas 'Taliesin'

R. S. THOMAS.
Taliesin

I have been all men known to history,
Wondering at the world and at time passing;
I have seen evil, and the light blessing
Innocent love under a spring sky.

I have been Merlin wandering in the woods
Of a far country, where the winds waken
Unnatural voices, my mind broken
By a sudden aqcuaintance with man's rage.

I have been Glyndwr set in the vast night,
Scanning the stars for the propitious omen,
A leader of men, yet cursed by the crazed women
Mourning their dead under the same stars.

I have been Goronwy, forced from my own land
To taste the bitterness of the salt ocean;
I have known exile and a wild passion
Of longing changing to a cold ache.

King, beggar and fool, I have been all by turns,
Knowing the body's sweetness, the mind's treason;
Taliesin still, I show you a new world, risen,
Stubborn with beauty, out of the heart's need.

Anjela Duval (Quatre Poires) 'Preder/Meditation'

ANJELA DUVAL
Quatre Poires
Meditation (Preder)

Toute seule! - comme tout les soirs - la maison paisible.
Toute seule avec le poids de mes pensées
Mes pensées qui cherchent un chant par ou s'élever
Et s'ouvrir.
Meditation...
J'écoute. J'entends:
La voix du feu: mon complice de tous les soirs.
Et je n'ai pas encore reussi
A comprendre sa langue:
Elle change tous les soirs.
Parfois c'est comme une prière: prière du foyer
autel sacré de la maison.
Parfois il me semble que c'est un chant.
Parfois un gémissement. Ou un murmure. Une plainte...
Sa fumée épaisse et bleue s'elève comme un encens
Par le conduit noir de la cheminée,
Pour se perdre dans la nuit noire.
Détonations sèches du châtaigner ou du peuplier qui
Lâchent  des étincelles rouges qui sont comme des étoiles.
Les flammes bleues du saules sec jaillissent
hautes et joyeuses.
Les flammes mordorées du Hêtre comme rayons de soleil
Qui dansent, dansent en chantant.
Symboles de nos idées qui changent chaque jour.

Pourtant. Le coeur du chêne réduit en braises rouges
Reste en vie jusqu'au jour, enseveli dans la cendre...

- La foi des Celtes en leur Destin durera-t-elle
jusqu'au matin?
Meditation...
                                     Translated from the Breton by Paol Keineg

Saga Primitive D'Arthur (3)

SAGA PRIMITIVE D'ARTHUR.
11) Le Loup-Garou

Arthur est à la chasse; il tue deux louveteaux; un vieux loup s'approche de lui afin de lui témoigner son amitié; il l'emmène à sa cour et le loup lui fait découvrir que sa femme le trompe avec le sommelier; il fait étriper le sommelier et écarteler sa femme. Gwrhyr Gwalstawt Leithedd traduit le récit du loup: il est en réalité un homme, Gwrgwallawn, dont la femme, amoureuse d'un autre, s'est débarrassé en le transformant en loup après lui avoir dérobé sa baguette magique. Arthur récupère la baguette, tue l'amant, invite la femme et lui propose la tête de l'amant comme menu.

Equivalents (13)

Equivalents

Kolc'h - Cola
Kolen - Colwyn
Koll - Coll
Kollidigezh - Colledigaeth
Digoll - Digoll
Kolo - Calaf
Kolonenn - Colofn (taken from latin)
Komm - Cwm
Kompas - Cwmpas (taken from English)
Kompes - Cymhwys

Saturday, 29 April 2017

Récits et Poemes Celtiques (Note au Lecteur)

RECITS ET POEMES CELTIQUES
(Domaine Brittonique Vl - XV Siecles)
Note au lecteur:

          Dans le présent livre, les auteurs ont voulu mettre à la disposition du public des textes gallois, breton et latins dont certains n'ont jamais été traduits en français. Beaucoup d'entre eux ont un écho dans les littératures médiévales de notre continent. D'autres ont inspiré et inspirent encore les pièces de théâtre, des opéras, des poèmes. Les oeuvres galloise que nous présentons n'ont pas en général été la source directe des récits de la << matière de Bretagne >>, mais ce sont souvent des versions qui avaient cours dans les pays celtiques, particulièrement dans le domaine brittonique. Les relations par mer étaient faciles et quotidiennes à travers la Manche. Jusqu'au X siècle les langues étaient peu différentes et l'intercompréhension était possible entre gallois et breton.Elle le fut plus tard encore, jusqu' au Xll siècle au moins, entre cornique et breton. Nous soulignons ce fait pour montrer combien il est difficile et vain d'essayer de déterminer si tel ou tel récit vient de Galles ou de Petite Bretagne. A haute époch, les poètes errants les transmettaient un peu partout, au hasard de leurs pérégrinations. La conquête de l'Angleterre par les Normands, conquête à laquelle les Bretons prirent part massivement, ramena des foules de seigneurs armoricains dans l'île et l'enchevêtrement des traditions insulaires et continentales s'en trouva encore accentué. A partir du Xll siècle, les oeuvres françaises inspirées par les récits celtiques influent à leur tour sur ces derniers. Toutes une littérature << européenne >> se développe. Le choix des extraits a donc été guidé par ce premier souci: aider à faire connaître certaines des sources celtiques de la << matière de Bretagne >>.
          Une des autres préoccupations a été de mettre l'accent sur les textes gallois difficiles. Dans le cadre de ce livre, il nous a été impossible de justifier notre traduction dans le détail, à grand renfort des notes. Nous avons opté, sans l'expliquer toujours, pour telle version d'un manuscrit de préférence à telle autre, nous réservant de revenir sur ses questions dans des revues spécialisées, les 'Etudes Celtiques' notamment. Souvent nous avons dû opérer un compromis entre la traduction la plus littérale possible et les exigences de la phrase française. Les problèmes ont été particulièrement ardus en poesie, et il est à craindre que parfois, la << fanfare de fer >> des originaux déclames par les bardes ait disparu, le fond ayant tué la forme. Dans certains cas, on découvrira un monde peu connu, étrangement archaîque. C'est que la plupart de ses textes sont beaucoup plus anciens que les manuscrits qui les ont conservés. Nous en avons des preuves irréfutables dans la langue elle-même, fréquemment antérieur aux X siècle. Ce livre sera donc aussi l'occasion de faire une mise au point sur quelques aspects de la littérature celtique elle-même.
          Il nous reste à espérer que notre travail, malgré ses imperfections et ses lacunes, sera utile au public cultivé comme aux spécialistes et ouvrira la voie à des comparaisons fructueuses.

                                                   Léon FLEURIOT,
                                        Jean-Claude LOZAC'HMEUR,
                                                     Louis PRAT.
                                            (Université de Rennes.) 
       


Radio-activity

At the hospital in Brest they filled my veins with a solution that made me a radio-active risk for 24 hours, thereby not allowing pregnant women and children near me. As nothing went wrong the three hours session didn't turn me into a super-hero, not yet anyway. Probably only happens in comics and in the cinema. At the hospital in Brest they filled my veins with a solution that made me a radio-active risk for 24 hours, thereby not allowing pregnant women and children near me. As nothing went wrong the three hours session didn't turn me into a super-hero, not yet anyway. Probably only happens in comics and in the cinema. 

A Prophecy Fulfilled

A PROPHECY FULFILLED
"They may now be said to have recovered their former independence, for the most wise and fortunate Henry Vll is a Welshman."
      An Italian Envoy.

The accession of Henry Vll to the throne of England was, to Welshmen of the period, the fulfilment of a prophesy which had its origin in the twelfth century History of Geoffrey of Monmouth. Though we may regard that work as a romance, the prophesies of Merlin to which it gave rise undoubtedly coloured Welsh political thought for five centuries. Merlin foretold the ultimate triumph of the Welsh Dragon - that one day there would come from over the seas a champion who would restore to the Welsh their lost heritage of Britain; that the Welsh hero, King Arthur, was not dead but only asleep, and that he would one day arise to set his countrymen free from the Saxon yoke.
          Welsh bards undoubtedly believed that the victory of Henry would mean the leadership of Wales. "The sway of the Saxon is over," wrote one of them; "no Saxon shall be free from tribute. Rhys ap Thomas will know how to govern the land, and will consign to perdition every man who knows not our tongue."
           But the reality was very different, for it soon became clear that the accession of the Tudors meant the absorption  of Wales into the realm of England, and the suppression of the Welsh language. In short, it proved to be not the fulfilment but the negation of the bard's ideals.Then the bard's disappointment was profound and his sorrow bitter. "Woe unto us, powerless oaks of the race of Camber! How worthless we are! mere weeds, servants of the Tudors of Anglesey, who have put their faith in the enemies of our race."
            Henry was born at Pembroke Castle where his uncle, Jasper Tudor, was the earl. His grandfather, OwenTudor, who was descended from one of the ancient families of Wales, had married the princess Catherine of France; his father, Edmund Tudor, had married the heiress of the House of Lancaster. Thus he could boast of an ancestry more ancient and not less distinguished than that of either Yorkist or Lancastrian, for in his veins flowed the blood of a French Capet, a Norman Rolf, and a Welsh Cadwalader.
             Henry had always lived in Wales or on the Continent; the associations of his childhood were Welsh; and Welshmen were the mainstay of his victorious army. Two of the three banners under which he fought were the Red Dragon of Cadwalader and the Dun Cow of the Tudors. It was therefore not surprising to find that his countrymen regarded Henry's victory as a national triumph.
             Proud of his Welsh descent, and anxious that the world should know it, Henry called his eldest son Arthur after the legendary Welsh hero; and when Arthur died, he charged Prince Henry "that he should have a special care for the benefit of his own nation and countrymen the Welshmen."

Noissergorp, Tixerb

NOISSERGORP, TIXERB (The backwards movement?)

       "In 1914 Europe was a single civilized community, more so even than at the height of the Roman Empire. A man could travel across the length and breadth of the Continent without a passport until he reached the frontiers of Russia and the Ottoman empire. He could settle in a foreign country for work or leisure without legal formalities except, occasionally; some health requirements."

        "Conventionally, Europe extends from the seas and oceans to the Urals, .......Some nations are more consciously European, some less. When an Englishman, for instance, says that he is going to 'Europe' for a holiday, he does not mean Stratford-on-Avon or even Edinburgh. Russians talk about 'the west' in the same way. Howevermuch we insist that Englishmen and Russians are Europeans, we tend to assume that 'the Continent' also exists in a narrower sense."

         "Citizens of every country and of every class dressed much alike - national costume was worn only by peasants or as fancy dress. All European citizens took much the same meals at much the same times, except that the Russians ate their dinner at three o'clock and most English people at midday, not in the evening."

                              A.J.P. Taylor 'From Sarajevo to Potsdam' (Thames and Hudson 1966)

                  

Krennlavar (11)

Krennlavar

Dre balat sonn ez a ar c'hlaz don (En bêchant droit, la trenchée devient profonde) (L'effort paye)
Ar c'hleñved a zeu war varc'h hag a ya kuit war droad (La maladie vient à cheval et repart à pied)
Ar c'hleuñ ne vez ket graet eus un tu hepken (On ne fait pas le talus d'un seul côté (kleuñ = kleuz) (Il y a toujours des obligations réciproques dans un contrat)
N'heller ket monet d'ar c'hoad hemp ne gouezh del arnoc'h (On ne peut pas aller au bois sans qu'il vous tombe des feuilles dessus) (hemp = hep) (Il y a toujours quelques désagréments dans toute entreprise)
Pa gan ar c'hog da unnek eur e vez kreisteiz war-hed un eur (Quand le coq chante à onze heure, il est midi moins une heure) (C'est une lapalissade)

Diarebion (11)

Diarebion

Yr hoedl er cyhyd ei haros, a dderfydd yn ddydd ac yn nos
Yr oen yn dysgu i'r ddafad bori
Hwde i ti a moes i minau
Anghall fel dall a dwyllir
Angen a ddysg i hen redeg
Drwg yw drwg a gwaeth yw gwaethaf
Hir yw'r ffordd ni cherddwyd ond unwaith
Drych i bawb ei gymydog
Adwaenir y dyn wrth ei waith
Y mae gobaith o alltudiaeth, nid oes gobaith o fedd.

Triban Morgannwg (12)

Triban Morgannwg (Bro)

Llan-faes, Llan-fair, Trefflemin,
A Silstwn a'r hen felin,
Os aiff cardotyn ar eu traws
Caiff fara a chaws ond gofyn.

Hen Bennill (12)

Hen Bennill

Tros y mor mae'r adar duon;
Tros y mor mae'r dynion mwynion;
Tros y mor mae pob rhinweddau;
Tros y mor mae'm cariad inau.

Tuesday, 25 April 2017

R. S. Thomas 'The Old Language'

R. S. THOMAS.
The Old Language

England, what have you done to make the speech
My fathers used a stranger to my lips,
An offence to the ear, a shackle on the tongue
That would fit new thoughts to an abiding tune?
Answer me now. The workshop where they wrought
Stands idle, and thick dust covers their tools.
The blue metal of streams, the copper and gold
Seams in the wood are all unquarried; the leaves'
Intricate filigree falls, and who shall renew
Its brisk pattern? When spring wakens the hearts
Of the young children to sing, what song shall be theirs?

Monday, 24 April 2017

Harri Webb (Rampage & Revel) 'The Women of Fishguard'

HARRI WEBB.
Rampage & Revel
The Women of Fishguard

The Emperer Napoleon
He sent his ships of war
With spreading sails to conquer Wales
And land on Fishguard shore.
But Jemima she was waiting
With her broomstick in her hand,
And all the other women too,
To guard their native land.
For the Russians and the Prussians
He didn't give a damn
But he took on more than he bargained for
When he tried it on with Mam.

Their cloaks were good red flannel,
Their hats were black and tall,
They looked just like brave soldiers
And were braver than them all.
The Frenchmen took one look at them
And in panic they did flee,
Cried oo-la-la, and then ta-ta,
And jumped into the sea,
And said to one another
As back to France they swam,
We'd have stayed at home if we'd only known
That we'd have to take on Mam.

The Emperor Napoleon
He was a man of note,
His hat was sideways on his head,
His hand inside his coat.
When he heard the news from Fishguard
His sorrow was complete,
Oh Josephine, what can it mean?
My soldiers all are beat!
I'll make this proclamation,
Though a conqueror I am,
You can conquer all creation
But you'll never conquer Mam!

Harri Webb (Rampage & Revel) 'Guto Nyth Bran'

HARRI WEBB.
Rampage & Revel
Guto Nyth Bran

He was born on the mountain, he breathed its pure air
And nourished his frame on the good mountain fare
And in all our proud country there was no one who ran
Who could ever catch up with Bold Guto Nyth Bran.

Chorus: Make way on the mountain, make way down below
For one who runs swifter than strong winds that blow,
Give a cheer as he passes and catch him who can
For the fastest of runners is Guto Nyth Bran.

High over the Rhondda the farmstead is seen
Where Guto kept sheep on the hillside so green,
He needed no sheepdog, now beat this who can,
He outran all his flock, did fleet Guto Nyth Bran.

Chorus: Make way etc.

From Wales and wide England the challengers came
To the valleys all drawn by his peerless fame
But however they laboured, all comers he'd tan
They hadn't a hope against Guto Nyth Bran.

Chorus: Make way etc.

Twelve miles in an hour, seven minutes to spare,
From Bedwas to Newport, not turning a hair
And back as a winner according to plan
Was just one of the races of Guto Nyth Bran.

Chorus: Make way etc.

At the end of the race, his fair sweetheart, tis said,
Kissed Guto all breathless, and our hero fell dead,
So heed what I tell you, each young sporting man
And be warned by the fare of poor Guto Nyth Bran.

Chorus: Make way etc.

He died long ago and two centuries have gone
Since he ran his last race but his legend lives on,
And still at Llanwynno his gravestone we scan
And at Brynffynnon Inn drink to Guto Nyth Bran.

Chorus: Make way on the mountain, make way down below
For one who runs swifter than strong winds that blow,
Give a cheer as he passes and catch him who can
For the fastest of runners is Guto Nyth Bran.

Sunday, 23 April 2017

Anjela Duval 'Jour de Battage'

ANJELA DUVAL
Jour de Battage (Devezh an Dornañ)

             Sur l'aire à battre:
- Fourche, balais éparpillés
Bruit, vacarme, hommes saouls.
Le tas de paille menace de s'écrouler
Etayé par deux ou trois échelles.

              Dans la cour:
- Claquant des ailes
Le coq chante sur le tas de baile
Les poules accourent à tire-d'aile
Etonnées du repas qu'on leur sert.

               Au grenier:
- Cette année la moisson est abondante
Les tas sont hauts. Du travail pour mélanger
L'escalier est jonché de blé roux
L'homme au grain a-t-il crevé un sac?

                A la maison:
- Les hommes remplissent deux tables
Sus aux cuisinières
Le grand chien d'Anton. Le petit chien de Paol
Rongent des os sous la table.

                 En chemin
- Le champ de Kerdrubuilh est nettoyé
Les hommes chantent sur le chemin
Chapeau de paille couvert de poussiere
Barbes jaunes dans leurs cheveux roux.

                  Sur le seuil
- Fini le bruit, tout le monde est parti
Allons faire la vaisselle
Il faut laver. Il faut Essuyer
Il faut nettoyer. Il faut balayer.

                   A mi-voix:
- Fini la moisson, fini le battage
Demain dimanche, repos...

             Translated from the Breton by Paol Keineg.

Annie Ebrel & Nolwen le Buhe

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Born Aug 3 1951, Merthyr Tydfil, Cymru/Wales.Moved to Brittany Sept. 1979.I run a rustic Bar in a village of fewer than 800h.Real ale& best whisk(e)ys.At the moment I'm occupied with photos, flowers and music. For more information look up my site & blog: http://crwtynrhifnaw.blogspot.com my story: http://taffawrnantmorlais.blogspot.com my photos:http://picasaweb.google.com/BynWalters    my photos: http://patrimoinebreton/blogspot.com    a.n.other: http://mymiscellaneous-bynbrynman.blogspot.com

 

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