(for Elissa Henken)
She sleeps in order to dream of life’s hidden treasure seen through the black crystal of night in pools between high tide and low water, where free music is heard as waves which try in vain to expire, then resume with neither silence nor noise, without direction and without key, the only instrument being the seagull’s flute.
‘Breuddwyd bardd wrth ei hewyllys’
© copyright text and translation Mary Burdett-Jones 2023