De Meurth (Merh), nessa warn ügens mis Genver
Tuesday, 22nd January
Ma dhe gentrevoges nei coos bian. Treylyes gwels (gwyls) ew hy lowarth hei. Ma blejow (bleujow) ergh ow tevy dadn an colwedh. Ma trolergh ow mos emann dhort gover reb hy chei hei war tûa agan bownder nei. Bes pandr’ew an edhen ma? Gwelys ew hei genam kens lebmyn, dhort termyn dhe dermyn. Saw e’n eur na thera kescoweth genjy. Payones ew hei. Ma perhen hei dew lowarth en hons. A bayones drûan, pele ma dha wourty ha pele ma dha gòthmans erel? Gorryp (gorthyp) a dheuth dhort agan kentrevoges. Marow ens, oll an trei. Kei an perhen a ladhas üdn payon ha’n copel aral a veu ladhys gen kerry war an vorr (fordh). Rag hedna thew an payones wydn gwedhow, hy honan oll. Trûedh tra ew.
Our neighbour has a little wood. Her garden has gone wild. There are snowdrops growing under the hazel trees. A footpath ascends from a stream by her house towards our lane. But what is this bird? I have seen her before, from time to time. But then there was a partner with her. She is a peahen. Her owner is two gardens yonder. O wretched peahen, where is your husband and where are your other friends? An answer came from our neighbour. They are dead, all three. The owner’s dog killed one peacock and the other pair was killed by cars on the road. Therefore the white peahen is bereft, all alone. It’s a tragedy.
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