07/21/09 08:28:06PM @iain-williams2:
here is a translation done by D.M.Lloyd....a wee bit old fashioned perhaps and oozing with sentimentality. But it does the trick I think-captures the spirit of the original.RemembranceOne blissful moment as the sun is settingA mellow moment ere the night comes onTo bring to mind things which are long forgotten,Now lost in dust of eras that are gone.Now like the foam breaking on lonely beaches,Or the winds song and no one there to hear,I know they call on us in vain to listen-The old forgotten things men loved so dear.Things wrought through cunning skill in early ages,Neat little dwellings and resplendent halls,And well told stories that are lost for everAnd golden gods on whom no suppliant calls.The little words of languages once livingLively was then their sound on lips of menAnd pleasing to the ear in childrens prattleBut now no tongue will fashion them again.O countless generations of earths childrenOf dreams divine and fragile godlikenessIs there but stillness for the hearts that quickenedThat knew delight and knew griefs bitterness?Often when evening falls and I am lonelyI long one more to bring you all to mind,Pray, is there no one treasures and holds dearThe old forgotten things of humankind?Waldo WilliamsTranslated from the Welsh by D.M. Lloyd.
here is a translation done by D.M.Lloyd....a wee bit old fashioned perhaps and oozing with sentimentality. But it does the trick I think-captures the spirit of the original.RemembranceOne blissful moment as the sun is settingA mellow moment ere the night comes onTo bring to mind things which are long forgotten,Now lost in dust of eras that are gone.Now like the foam breaking on lonely beaches,Or the winds song and no one there to hear,I know they call on us in vain to listen-The old forgotten things men loved so dear.Things wrought through cunning skill in early ages,Neat little dwellings and resplendent halls,And well told stories that are lost for everAnd golden gods on whom no suppliant calls.The little words of languages once livingLively was then their sound on lips of menAnd pleasing to the ear in childrens prattleBut now no tongue will fashion them again.O countless generations of earths childrenOf dreams divine and fragile godlikenessIs there but stillness for the hearts that quickenedThat knew delight and knew griefs bitterness?Often when evening falls and I am lonelyI long one more to bring you all to mind,Pray, is there no one treasures and holds dearThe old forgotten things of humankind?Waldo WilliamsTranslated from the Welsh by D.M. Lloyd.