Edited by Anthony Dooley, Tuesday, 12 Mar 2013, 12:12
(image-gravestone and Artists shadow,St.Michaels Church,Huyton,Liverpool)
i mewn i'rrhyngoma rhwng, i mewn iallan acar yffyrddysbryd, symud i mewn acotheandar y sêrdiemwntmaluy llawrtheobsidianseren, yr awyryn dechraurhuofelteigrwrth y drws, ondnid ydym yngadael iddoi mewn ..peidiwch âhyd yn oed ynei glywed... neuweld... rydymsugosodynrhuo... ac ari ni fynd..gwrandawiady gânuchellapostsviolin'dthroughwiredillusionac esgyrncuddgwagaagainstgravestonedŵrbwrw 'rydym yn galwy rhaihen...anrhydedduy duwiau'..ni symud ymlaen.... A phobnosthoughted...ddyfnachnagtywyll...ac ynayn ddyfnachna hynny ...rydym yn mynd, hannermewn cariadâ marwolaeth..i mewn i gof.. baetio teirwynnociauLerpwl(ie, mae'n digwydd..hen,hen,hen arferionRhufeinig.....mithraic).. gweler yLEERonlookersynyosgoi'ryseilam...neu gwyliwch ywrithingscarthionhwyadeno fenywodi lawr aryflashes.. neuweld yllygod mawrafonyn nofio yn ypyllau ynEvertonael...Lerpwl, dinasgyntafcymru...a ddigwyddodd i. meddyliaunosyn cyrraedd ar gyferyanadl yrthrothaygorffennol, anryswchfelniwlmewnupjuttingsiasolo olioncoedwiga phren..silwetaua siapiauac nid ydynt mwyachyn unigrydym ynraedd...ysbrydiysbryd,ynDeadmantirâ'r presennol-y gorffennol...geiriauyn marwar y tafod...lleferyddyn dod ynddiwerthigraveborn.. maent ynsiarad ynvoicestonguedâ thân...maent yn siaradynsilences...rydym yn gwrando.
sorry about capitals...but i didnt want to use te,iagain i wanted to capturethat trance-like,almost automatic writing of say..Poe or Rimbaud..
Translation:
into the betwixt and between,into the out of and onto the ghost roads, moving in and of theand on the crushed diamond stars that star theobsidian floor, the sky starts to roar like a tiger at the door but we don't let it in...don't even hear it...or see it...we su let it roar...and on we go..hearing the high song violin'dthrough wiredillusion laposts and hollow hidden bones and casting water againstgravestone 'we call the old ones...honour the gods'..we move on.... And all night thoughted...deeper than dark...and then deeper than that...we go,half in love with death..into memory.. bull baiting at Liverpool docks(yes,it happened..old,old,old customs...roman..mithraic ).. see the onlookers leer at the ducking of the madhouse...or watch the duck stool writhings of women down at the flashes..or see the river rats swim in the pits at Everton brow...Liverpool,first city of wales...that happened to. night thoughts reach for the breath of the past,thay twist and tangle as mist in eerie upjuttings of forest and wood remains..silhouettes and shapes and no longer alone we stan...ghost to ghost,in deadman's land with the present-past...words die on the tongue...speech is become useless to the graveborn..they speak in voices tongued with fire...they speak in silences...we listen.
Another piece of prosetry..in Welsh
i mewn i'r rhyngom a rhwng, i mewn i allan ac ar y ffyrdd ysbryd,
symud i mewn ac o theand ar y sêr diemwnt malu y llawr theobsidian seren,
yr awyr yn dechrau rhuo fel teigr wrth y drws, ond nid ydym yn gadael iddo i mewn .. peidiwch â hyd yn oed yn ei glywed ... neu weld ... rydym su gosod yn rhuo ... ac ar i ni fynd. . gwrandawiad y gân uchel laposts violin'dthrough wiredillusion ac esgyrn cudd gwag a againstgravestone dŵr bwrw
'rydym yn galw y rhai hen ... anrhydeddu y duwiau' .. ni symud ymlaen ....
A phob nos thoughted ... ddyfnach nag tywyll ... ac yna yn ddyfnach na hynny ... rydym yn mynd, hanner mewn cariad â marwolaeth .. i mewn i gof ..
baetio teirw yn nociau Lerpwl (ie, mae'n digwydd .. hen, hen, hen arferion Rhufeinig ... .. mithraic) ..
gweler y LEER onlookers yn y osgoi'r y seilam ... neu gwyliwch y writhings carthion hwyaden o fenywod i lawr ar y flashes .. neu weld y llygod mawr afon yn nofio yn y pyllau yn Everton ael ... Lerpwl, dinas gyntaf cymru .. . a ddigwyddodd i.
meddyliau nos yn cyrraedd ar gyfer y anadl yr thro thay gorffennol, a nryswch fel niwl mewn upjuttings iasol o olion coedwig a phren .. silwetau a siapiau ac nid ydynt mwyach yn unig rydym yn raedd ... ysbryd i ysbryd, yn Deadman tir â'r presennol-y gorffennol ... geiriau yn marw ar y tafod ... lleferydd yn dod yn ddiwerth i graveborn .. maent yn siarad yn voicestongued â thân ... maent yn siarad yn silences ... rydym yn gwrando.
sorry about capitals...but i didnt want to use te,iagain i wanted to capturethat trance-like,almost automatic writing of say..Poe or Rimbaud..
Translation:
into the betwixt and between,into the out of and onto the ghost roads,
moving in and of theand on the crushed diamond stars that star theobsidian floor,
the sky starts to roar like a tiger at the door but we don't let it in...don't even hear it...or see it...we su let it roar...and on we go..hearing the high song violin'dthrough wiredillusion laposts and hollow hidden bones and casting water againstgravestone
'we call the old ones...honour the gods'..we move on....
And all night thoughted...deeper than dark...and then deeper than that...we go,half in love with death..into memory..
bull baiting at Liverpool docks(yes,it happened..old,old,old customs...roman..mithraic )..
see the onlookers leer at the ducking of the madhouse...or watch the duck stool writhings of women down at the flashes..or see the river rats swim in the pits at Everton brow...Liverpool,first city of wales...that happened to.
night thoughts reach for the breath of the past,thay twist and tangle as mist in eerie upjuttings of forest and wood remains..silhouettes and shapes and no longer alone we stan...ghost to ghost,in deadman's land with the present-past...words die on the tongue...speech is become useless to the graveborn..they speak in voices tongued with fire...they speak in silences...we listen.