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Genwyf o flodau, â chalon bos; Gwaddol Gwyn, ni garai’i walchder glos, Nid caru Lleu’n ffôlus, ond creu ffos. Ni garaf tywysog, tylwyth tlos. Merched y cwrt, melys a cheirios, Anadl cysyr mewn annerch clôs, Blodau binc ei bochau eurios, Brigau bach ei breichiau, twt di-os. Dalpen wyn ar fy ngwâr derwos, Gwallt erwain yng ngafael bys llaethos, Bawd ym mhlyg banadl - o dân nos, blodeuaf, yn wan dan dafod clôs. Ond mae bechgyn braen moyn ei blantos, Nid gariad gennod, na angen rhos, Rhyw yw’r ysgwyd amharchys y nos, Gwywia fy erwain, rhos a’m nghwyros. Ni all cusan f’achub o’r cyfnos, Daw Gronw, gwr deallus, dosturos Ni hoffai’i awgrym, ond hoffai ddos- Efallai gallai’r genneth fynd, os... |
I was born of flowers, with a puzzle heart, Gwyn’s endowment, though i do not love his rogue gloss Loving Lleu is not folly, but creates rift I do not love a prince, but beautiful fae. Girls of the court, sweet and cerise, Comforting breath in close address, The pink flowers of their golden cheeks, Small twigs of their arms, definitely dapper. A white patch on my oaken scruff Meadowsweet hair in the grip of a milk-white finger, Thumb in the fold of broomflower - under night I flower, weak under a close tongue. But rotten boys want their children, Not love of women, nor heather’d need, Sex is the disrespectful jarring of the night my meadowsweet, heather and privet withers. A kiss can’t save me from the twilight, Gronw comes, a understanding man, compassionate, I don’t like his suggestion, but I want to leave, Maybe the girl can go if… |