The castell surrounded by houses and traffic, half buried coronig in mud of its gwerin. The teithwyr who litter the green with their bodies, snapping up ffermdai, tywosogion, offeriaid. The ffynnon in the square was long since covered over; the tree was cut down where a mynach was hung. In the ffermdai they turn back damp cloth from the window where skaters slide back up the deep frozen afon. We carry the weight, the craft of our people, to the port and the market where grey fingers delve. We carry the city, the houses and steeples to the port and the market where we sell ourselves. And that man in the tafarn sells pills for arthritis; and the dafad you found leaking blood in the lane, and the mamiaith that sings on the house on the corner, to gramophone records that stick and then stutter. And the crwydryn, his toes growing rotten in leather; and the acid bath, warm in the depths of the cellar, llywodraeth will rise from those broken slum houses, from the nerve that beats deep under feet on the pavement. We carry the weight, the craft of our people, to the port and the market where grey fingers delve. We carry the city, the houses and steeples to the port and the market where we sell ourselves. WELSH TRANSLATIONS Castell: a castle; coronig: a coronet; gwerin: the folk; teithwyr: travellers; ffermdai: farmhouses; tywosogion: princes; offeiriaid: priests; ffynnon: a well; mynach: a monk; afon: a river; tafarn: a pub; dafad: a sheep; mamiaith: mother-tongue; crwydryn: wanderer; llywodraeth; government or control.