2025 Day 358

 2025 Dedh Trei Hans Etek ha Dogens

De Merher, pajwora warn ügens mis Kevardhû
Wednesday, 24th December

Ma 'ga gool Montol dhe'n düs Pensans. Nag üjy Porth Enys pell dhort Pensans. Ma degol dhe'n düs Porth Enys ewedh - Nos Tom Bawcock. Pandr'ew an daralla? Thera hager gewer rag termyn hir. Na alja pescadoryon mos dhe'n mor. Thera nown ogastei e'n drev. Üdn den bold a gemeras y scath ha cacha pesk lowr, seyth ehen pesk, rag maga pubonan (ken Nadelik). Treylys hengovadh ew crampes 'star-gazey'. Robert Morton Nance a scrifas cân en mil naw cans seyth warn ügens. Antonia Barber a scrifas lever flehes (gen cath) en mil naw cans deg ha pajar ügens. Lebmyn ma'n gòlowow Nadelik ow tisqwedhes cath keffres ha crampes besk - gen pednow puskes ow lagatta ort an ster!

Penzance people have their Mantol festival. Mousehole is not far from Penzance. The people of Mousehole also have a celebration - Tom Bawcock's Eve. What is the story? There was terrible weather for a long time. Fishermen could not go to sea. There was near starvation in the village. One brave man took his boat and caught enough fish, seven sorts of fish, for feeding everyone (before Christmas). Star-gazey pie has become a tradition. Robert Morton Nance wrote a song in 1927. Antonia Barber wrote a children's book (with a cat) in 1990. Now the Christmas lights also show a cat as well as a fish pie - with fish heads staring at the stars.

Otta an cân gen Nance. 

Here's the song by Nance.

Side by side comparison

The original wording

The poem in modern English

A merry plaas you may believe woz Mowsel pon Tom Bawcock's Eve. To be theer then oo wudn wesh To sup o sibm soorts o fesh! Wen morgee brath ad cleard tha path Comed lances for a fry, An then us had a bet o scad an starry gazee py. Nex cumd fermaads, braa thustee jaads As maad ar oozles dry, An ling an haak, enough to maak a raunen shark to sy! A aech wed clunk as ealth wer drunk En bumpers bremmen y, An wen up caam Tom Bawcock's naam We praesed un to tha sky.[3]

A merrier place you may believe Was Mousehole on Tom Bawcock's eve To be there then who wouldn't wish To sup on seven sorts of fish When murgy broth had cleared the path Comed lances for a fry And then us had a bit o' scad And starry gazey pie Next comed fair maids, bra' thrusty jades As made our oozles dry And ling and hake, enough to make A running shark to sigh As each we'd clunk as health were drunk In bumpers brimming high And when up came Tom Bawcock's name We praised him to the sky.[4]