1. Kataloni
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Daras Igor, ayr yn fros,
gwan gwybeS rydh yn hes:
gelvin gwennol kyns an nos
a dhalghenn skav by freydhow es
ha war an ledrow Iimven toes
my a gerdhas kyns, nyhewer,
menydhyow moel a-ugh an koes
le may trey! distowgh an gewer;
my a dhehwel dhis yn skon -
ledrow ledan Rousillon.
Gwinlannow dyes an nans a-is,
rew war rew, linennow hir;
sugen du dhe benn an mis
pan dheu an drevas war dha dir;
froeth anadhves, hwerow, lymm
a dreyl yn skon dhe neppyth melys
a vydh pup-prys marthus dhymm,
rin a natur prest anwelys;
an nos a goedh, an gryll a gan,
kowetha dha, hwarth toemm didhan,
yn syghnans syger katalan.
Pan hedh wor'tiwedh kan an nos
y koedh kosoleth war an chi;
dhe'm gweli res yw dhymmo mos
ha lemmyn hwans a'm beus anedhi;
er ebrenn efan, tewl ha pelt,
hanterwiskys, dillas lows,
kroghen aye! oily gell,
hi a war dhewlin orth an grows;
my a berth kw gwel ha son;
my a woer pub ger, pub ton,
ha my a dhehwel dhis yn skon -
nosow noeth, poeth Rousillon.

An open door, air in a stream,
the play of gnats free in a swarm.,
a swallow's beak before the night
seizes nimbly her easy spoils-,
and on the grey limestone slopes
I walked before, last night,
bare mountains above the wood
where the weather changes suddenly,
I will return to you soon -
wide slopes of Rousillon.
Vineyards across the valley below,
row on row, long lines;
black juice at the end of the month
when the harvest comes on your land.,
fruit unripe, bitter, sharp
will soon change to something sweet
which will always be a marvel to me,
a secret of nature always unseen;
the night falls, the cricket sings,
good company, warm, entertaining laughter,
in a lazy dry Catalan valley.
When the song of the night finally stops
there falls a calmness on the house;
to my bed I must go
and now a desire I have for her;
against a wide sky, dark and tar,
halfdressed, loose clothing,
skin like brown olives,
she kneels at the cross;
I remember sight and sound;
I know every word, every tune,
and I will return to you soon -
hot naked, nights of Rousillon