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Neil Croll, 2nd prize (Open category)
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Tŷ'r Ysgol

Mae'r cyrn yn mygu er pob awel groes,
A rhywun yno weithiau'n sgubo'r llawr
Ac agor y ffenestri, er nad oes
Neb yno'n byw ar ôl y chwalfa fawr;
Dim ond am fis o wyliau, mwy neu lai,
Yn Awst, er mwyn cael seibiant bach o'r dre
A throi o gwmpas dipyn, nes bod rhai
Yn synnu'n gweld yn symud hyd y lle;
A phawb yn holi beth sy'n peri o hyd
I ni, sydd wedi colli tad a mam,
Gadw'r hen le, a ninnau hyd y byd, —
Ond felly y mae hi, ac ni wn paham,
Onid rhag ofn i'r ddau sydd yn y gro
Synhwyro rywsut fod y drws ynghlo.


T H Parry-Williams (1889–1975)
The School House

The chimneys smoke whatever breezes blow
and someone sweeps the floor occasional days
and opens windows wide, though no one now
has lived here since the family went its ways —
save for a month or so in summer heat,
when needing to escape the urban pace
we stay and walk the lanes. Then those we meet,
surprised that people occupy this place,
will ask why we, with father, mother gone,
still feel some obligation to maintain
an old house no one needs now we've moved on.
But there it is — and how can I explain?
Perhaps we fear that those two in the ground
Might sense the door was locked the whole year round.


Translated from the Welsh by Neil Crolln
  [Commentary on the poem by the translator]   



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