Poem
Menna Elfyn
STONE POEM
The doorstep of your existenceis the morning’s clean slate,
a stone on my soul’s roof-hurdle,
a single necessary step
by love’s wall. Simple, stable.
I’ve never understood why people hunt
for crystal, or a lump of gold,
or a diamond. I’m simply
grateful for the stones at hand,
meteorites from the sky at times,
the magnet that holds two ships in harbour,
the loadstone of sensibility,
and the long stone that in an age of gravel
rolls, and gathers no moss,
the whetstone of my brain,
flints demanding an explosion
beneath the tissue, a fresh quarry.
Stone upon stone. Milestones
I walk towards happily,
chirping like a stonechat.
© Translation: 2005, Joseph P. Clancy
Cerdd garegog
Cerdd garegog
Carreg ddrws dy fodolaeth,Sy’n llechen lan y bore
Maen ar gronglwyd f’enaid,
Un cam wrth fur cariad
Sy raid. Un syml, sownd.
Wnes i ddim deall helfa
Pobl am risial, neu glap aur,
Na deiamwnt. Dim ond
Diolch am y meini mewn llaw,
Meini mellt weithiau o’r awyr,
Maen sugn., dwy long mewn harbwr,
Maen tynnu atat synnwyr
A’r maen hir mewn oes o raean
Fe dreigla, heb fwsogli.
Maen hogi fy ymennydd
Meini cellt, yn mynnu tanchwa
Dan feinwe’n chwarel grai.
Maen ar faen yn gerrig milltir
Y cerddaf atynt yn llawen,
Gan delori fel clap y cerrig.
© 2005, Menna Elfyn
Menna Elfyn
(United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, 1951)
Menna Elfyn is an award-winning poet and playwright from Wales who writes in Welsh but whose work has been translated into over twenty languages. She has published fourteen collections of poetry, children’s novels, libretti for UK and US composers as well as plays for television and radio.
Poems
Poems of Menna Elfyn
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STONE POEM
The doorstep of your existenceis the morning’s clean slate,
a stone on my soul’s roof-hurdle,
a single necessary step
by love’s wall. Simple, stable.
I’ve never understood why people hunt
for crystal, or a lump of gold,
or a diamond. I’m simply
grateful for the stones at hand,
meteorites from the sky at times,
the magnet that holds two ships in harbour,
the loadstone of sensibility,
and the long stone that in an age of gravel
rolls, and gathers no moss,
the whetstone of my brain,
flints demanding an explosion
beneath the tissue, a fresh quarry.
Stone upon stone. Milestones
I walk towards happily,
chirping like a stonechat.
© 2005, Joseph P. Clancy
STONE POEM
The doorstep of your existenceis the morning’s clean slate,
a stone on my soul’s roof-hurdle,
a single necessary step
by love’s wall. Simple, stable.
I’ve never understood why people hunt
for crystal, or a lump of gold,
or a diamond. I’m simply
grateful for the stones at hand,
meteorites from the sky at times,
the magnet that holds two ships in harbour,
the loadstone of sensibility,
and the long stone that in an age of gravel
rolls, and gathers no moss,
the whetstone of my brain,
flints demanding an explosion
beneath the tissue, a fresh quarry.
Stone upon stone. Milestones
I walk towards happily,
chirping like a stonechat.
© 2005, Joseph P. Clancy
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