poethdon

Gair benthyg oeddet ti

Rhywbeth i lenwi

Cromfach

Rot the pretty things

Spring is angry and wants to wake up
Wants to grow neat things and give birth to pretty words
And hedges
The gates of hell flower instead.
Bad buds money trees weighty with blood and worry and deafening legs.
What’s the purpose of thinking about the raspberries when there is merciless violent dripping
Some things remain senseless
Even after you’ve learnt their meaning.
The flowers are choking. Rot the pretty things. The pretty things are rotting.
The buds are. What are buds
What is giving the flowers water
Fearing you’ll upset the rot whilst it sucks the garden to nothing no water
Watering the flowers whilst pulling at their roots.
How ymdopi – topi
Ymlacio – llacio
Arfogi – mogi
Greet your fellow man with a gun.

Wouldn’t it be nice to ascend to such a position of power 
Where your purpose in life is to profit from others’ suffering
And you can tell your grandkids when you’re old and respectable 
When they ask you
“Taid, tell us about the massacre of 2023, and 2024, and 2025” you can tell them “well children,

Before you were born,

Well before you ruled over this land and its treasures,

She was a tough and just war, 
And I was lucky enough to govern over her and civilize
Cull the olive trees 
Explode the watermelons 
Ensure the killing of 15,000 babies and children 
Dismantle hospitals into powder 
And brainwash the world in one big tragic accident. So that kids you could flourish.

That’s what bravery looks like my dears.

Don’t look at me so soft boy.

Bring your grandfather a sweetie, don’t you think he deserves one?

First read in Welsh on BBC Radio Cymru, April 2024