Ar Ddiwrnod Barddoniaeth y Byd, dathlwn y gwreiddiau barddonol sy'n plethu trwy gorffennol, presennol a dyfodol Cymru. Y bardd enwog o Gymru, a Bardd Preswyl Cenedlaethau’r Dyfodol, Taylor Edmonds sydd yn rhannu ‘Ceidwad Glannau'r Afon’, cerdd a berfformiwyd am y tro gyntaf, ac a ysbrydolwyd gan drafodaethau yn COP26 yn Glasgow, yr Alban yn 2021.
Trawsgrifiad o'r gerdd 'Ceidwad Glannau'r Afon'
Our town was built around the oak tree,
her underground map of roots
mirroring the curls of her branches,
growth slow but strong.
In Summer, we would tie ribbons
around her arcs for everyone we had lost
so she knew to welcome them.
Cup candles until the day grew
dark and we fell asleep under her canopy,
ribbons of yellows, purples and blues
dancing above us in the breeze.
My great grandmother
was happiest when turning soil.
She pressed the Oak’s yellowing leaves
between diary pages, traced
around the edges with ink
and wrote about our ancestors’ healing.
Boiling bark for blisters,
curing leaves to soothe frostbite.
The same bark she engraved
her initials into with a penknife,
same leaves I can pluck from her diary.
Could you close your eyes
so I can take you there?
When the floods came, they were relentless.
Our roads grew currents, our fields
gathered waves. We were hauled
from our beds to fill sandbags, searching
for each other’s eyes in the torchlight.
Eventually, after withstanding
the wars and riots of hundreds
of years, roots loosened by floods,
the Oak was dragged out by the river.
Our town was built around the oak tree,
her underground map, her peeling bark,
her curling branches, her resilience.
Each day I walk to the grassy bank
standing guard, checking the soil
of my sanctuary ground where in Spring,
acorns will sprout green.