Day Two Hundred and Fifty-seven


Dew Cansves Dedh Dew Ügens ha Seytek

De Sadorn, pemdhegves mis Gwedngala.
Saturday, 15th September.



Ma mernans o toas dhe’n pras. Me a welas corf marow en dadn gwelen dredan ha moas dhe whithra. Soweth, bargas ew. Rag fra ew ev marow? A wrüg ev tremena dhort oos coth? Martesen yonk ew ev, ha ev a wrüg neyja bedn an caplys electrek voltach ûhel. A wrüg ev debry boos posnys? Eus nebonan, martesen, o hatya edhyn predha? An edhen drûan ew kelyonek solabres.
Death comes to the meadow. I saw a dead body underneath an electricity pole and went to investigate. Alas, it’s a buzzard. Did it pass away from old age? Perhaps it’s young, and it flew against the high voltage electric cables. Did it eat poisoned bait? Is there, perhaps, someone who hates birds of prey. The poor bird is already fly covered.

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