pohoddiw

AN DIWETTHA GERYOW DOLLI PENNTRETH	THE LAST WORDS OF DOLLY PENTREATH
Pol Hodge	trans. Pol Hodge (from Cornish)
Kernewek yw marow, 'Long live the King's English!' - flogh an yeth predennek neb a rosyas an ynysow ma kyns gwydhel, sows ha norman - an vowes marthus teg neb a ganas mar hweg an ordinale ha lies gwari dres ugens plen an gwari, re worfennas hy bywnans omma war dhiwweus minvlewys a'n korf pysk-flerys ma. Doktour Borlase, Doktour Williams, Doktour Payton, Na tus a vedhygieth, ow profya yeghes yethek, mes bryni an marowji neb a woel yn lowen war an byw a davosow marow. Ytho yth esa kevywi-mernans rag agan Dolli goth ni may hwrug gerennow sowsnek dasseni a-dro hy farledh. Ha war hy krowji sempel, yma peswardhek kansvlydhen a gowsoryon dre dhegvilyow ow leva agan kenedhlekter byghanhes dhe ... neb plakk kawgh. Hag arta my ow sevel, nag yn Mousehole po Mowssel mes an dre gernewek - Porthynys, my a red war an legh, hag estren yw an yeth ... 'Dolly Pentreath died 1777. The last person to speak Cornish.' Bramm an gath!	Cornish is dead, 'Long live the King's English!' - the child of British language who roamed these isles before Gael, Saxon and Norman - the marvellously fine maid who sang so sweet the Ordinalia and lots of plays through twenty 'plen an gwari', has finished her life here on the moustached lips of this fish-stinking corpse. Doctor Borlase Doctor Williams Doctor Payton Not men of medicine proffering linguistic health but crows of the mortuary who feast happily on the flesh of dead languages. So there was a party for our old Dolly where mere words of English echoed around her parlour. And on her simple cottage, there are fourteen centuries of speakers by the ten thousand voicing our nationhood reduced to ... some shitty plaque. As again I stand, not in Mousehole or Mowsell but the Cornish village Porthynys, I read the slate and the language is foreign ... 'Dolly Pentreath died 1777 The last person to speak Cornish.' Fart of the cat!