(Diolch yn fawr am fy nhiwtor Phil Stone a fy nghwraig Marie)
GOBAITH
' A fo ben, bid bont'
Edrychwch ar y pontydd ym Merthyr :
rhai a ddur lliwgar, un gyda siap parabola.
Ysbrydion a stem yn croesi'r
hen draphont dros yr afon.
Ond, ble mae'r cewri nawr
fel Gwyn Alf, Keir Hardie neu Lewsyn?
I gyd wedi diflannu yn y twnnel
tywyll iawn trwy'r mynydd.
Mae angen pont i'r gorffennol,
man lle gall pobl gerdded ;
siwrnai araf i'r pentref a gollwyd
i glywed y straeon o obaith.
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HOPE
'Let those who lead also be a bridge'
Look now at the bridges of Merthyr :
some of coloured steel, one a parabola.
The spirits of steam are crossing
the old viaduct over the river.
But where have the giants gone,
like Gwyn Alf, Keir Hardie and Lewsyn?
All disappeared down the tunnel
dark through the mountain.
We need a bridge to the past,
a place where people can walk ;
a slow journey to a lost village
to hear the stories of hope.