Day Forty


An Dogensves (Dew ügensves) Dedh

De Sadorn, an degves dedh a vis Whevrel. Üdn jedh gleb moy. Glaw a wra arta. Me a dhallathas kerres (kerdhes) dhe’n savla kyttrin saw me a vetyas gen kentrevoges (an eyl gen mergh ha llamas). Hei a’m gorras dhe’n dre.
Saturday, the tenth day of February. One more wet day. It rains again. I started walking to the bus stop but I met a neighbour (the one with horses and llamas). She gave me a lift to town.
Thera termyn lowr dhe vires en shoppa levrow, bes na wrüga vy gweles üdn lever veth dhe berna. Üskis me a gemeras kyttrin dhe Falmeth rag cuntellyans a scriforyon. Na veu Warren ena hedhyw. Thera oberyans medhek lagajow dhodho ha na alja ev gweles dhe lewa. Ma Tam o scrifa whedhlow adro dhe düs scathow ha cokow war an dowr. (Hei a wrüg adhvejy en cok coth war an Fal.)
There was enough time to look in a book shop, but I didn’t see a single book to buy. Quickly I caught a bus to Falmouth for a gathering of writers. Warren wasn’t there today. He had an eye operation and could not see to drive. Tam is writing stories about boat people on the river. (She grew up in an old boat on the Fal.)

Nei a evas te ha coffy ha debry biskys (tesednow calish) gen keus ha scons gen jam corrants dû. Ha, heb mar, nei a wrüg scrifa ha cows adro dhe scrifa. Da ew genam gwary gen geryow!
We drank tea and coffee and ate biscuits with cheese and scones with blackcurrant jam. And, of course, we wrote and talked about writing. I like playing with words!

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