Tarmacwyr; Tarmac Men

Tarmacwyr

Yn welw gan ganlyniau’r sgan, mae’n nhw’n troi
Llygaid llawn at y pyllau glaw,
Twt‑twtian tafodau, llenwi’r ferfa’n fraf

A thrwy’r prynhawn, cysuro’r lôn ac olew
Eu hen gelfyddyd, rhoi’r haul ar ei hwyneb
A chosi’i chefn gyda chribin mân

Cyn tywallt yr uwd tywyll i’r tyllau
Yn gymysg â rhegfeydd Mayo, a’i rowlio
Â’u calonnau trymion, yn batshys glân,

Yn lôn lân, fel yr un y cerddodd eu teidiau
Pan oedd ei cherrig, gan newyn, yn fara
A blas ar ei glaswellt.

Cleifion ydyn nhw
Yn llawio papurau’r cwîn a llwytho’r lorri
Gan adael y cleisiau duon i adrodd y stori.

Tarmac Men

Paled by the results of the scan they turn
Brimming eyes to the puddled rain,
Tut‑tutting their tongues as they fill the barrow full,

All of the long afternoon they balm the road in the oil
Of their older craft, they sun its face,
And they comb its back with a little rake.

Then they pour black gruel into the holes,
And mix it with curses from the County of Mayo.
They roll it with their heavy hearts to make new patches,

To make a new road like the one their fathers walked on
When its stones, through famine, were bread
And its grass was good to eat.

They are patients too
As they shuffle the papers of the queen* and load their lorry
And leave the black scars there to tell the story.