Rebel Wicend

I played Bryn Fôn's excellent song - "Rebel Wicend" on the Heritage Matters programme -which is broadcast on SpectrumOnAir each week at 19.00 Tuesday's, 14.00 Thursdays and 18.00 on Saturdays (UK time - but available around the world by clicking the link above. 

The lyrics in Welsh then English are posted below -

Mae’n cyrraedd ei swyddfa yn gynnar bob bore
Yn cario ei frîffces ecsetiwtif bach.
“Bore da, Mistar Eliot” a “Diolch yn fawr Rachel,
A chofiwch, dim siwgwr, trio cadw yn iach.”
Ac mae’n eistedd fel sowldiwr o flaen ei brosesydd
A phob pin a phapur a ffeil yn eu lle,
Ac am bump mae o’n ol tu ol i lyw’r BMW
Yn gyrru am adre ar gyrion y dre.

Bob nos wrth droi’r goriad mae’n gweiddi, “dwi adre.
Sut ddiwrnod ges ti a be sy ‘na i dde?”
Ac ar garreg yr aelwyd mae’i slipars yn c’nesu
Ac arogl cartref yn llenwi y lle.
Ond ar nos Wenar daw adre a hongian ei siwt
A newid i’r hen denims cul,
Hongian modrwyau trwy’r tyllau’n ei glustiau
A chuddio y rasal tan yn hwyr ar nos Sul.

A dyna chi fo, yn rebal wicend go iawn,
Hefo’i stic-on tatw a’i dun baco herbal yn llawn.
Yn rebal wicend o’i gorun i’w draed
Ac ysbryd gwrthryfel yn berwi ‘mhob diferyn o’i waed.

Ac ar bnawn Sadwrn mewn denims a lledar,
Crys T heb lewys a’i wallt o yn saim,
Mae’n mynd draw i’r dafarn i siarad a’r rocars,
I yfed Jack Daniels yn lle lagyr a laim.
Ac ar ol ysfed digon mae’r gitar yn dod allan
Ac mae o’n canu y blws a thrio swnio yn ddu.
Son am drallodion genod ysgol yn disgwyl.
Mae o’n teimlo fel deryn ac ymddwyn fel ci.

Amser cinio dydd Sul mae o’n ol yn y dafarn
Yn yfed ei hochor o ddeuddeg tan dri,
Yn siarad yn ddwfn am genod a wisgi
A phob ystum o’i eiddo yn dweud ‘ylwch fi’.
Ond gyda’r nos, cyn gwylio Hel Straeon,
Mae o ar goll ym mybls y bath, digon siwr.
Mae’r metamorffosis drosodd am wythnos fach arall
Pan mae’r rebal yn mynd lawr y plyg gyda’r dwr.

Ac ar fore dydd Llun mae o’n ol yn y swyddfa
A’r cris yn ei drowses yn finiog fel bled.
Mae’r rebal wicend yn edrych o’i gwmpas
Ac yn sylweddoli ei fod oyn mêd

English Translation Lyrics:

He arrives in his office early each morning
And carries his little executive briefcase.
“Good morning, Mister Eliot” and “Thank you very much Rachel,
And remember, no sugar, trying to stay healthy.”
He sits like a soldier in front of his processor
With each pin and paper and file in their place,
And at five he’s back behind the BMW’s steering wheel
Driving back home on the outskirts of town.

Each night as he turns the key he yells, “I’m home.
How was your day and what is there for tea?”
And by the fireplace his slippers are warming
And the smell of home filling the place.
But on Friday night he comes home and hangs his suit
And changes to the old narrow denims,
He hangs rings through the holes in his ears
And hides the razor until late on Sunday night. 

And there he is, a real weekend rebel,
With his stick-on tattoo and his herbal tobacco tin filled.
A weekend rebel from head to toe
And the spirit of rebellion boiling in each drop of his blood.

And on a Saturday afternoon in denims and leather,
A sleeveless T-Shirt and his hair full of grease,
He goes down to the tavern to talk with the rockers,
To drink Jack Daniels instead of lime and lager.
And after drinking enough the guitar comes out
And he sings the blues and tries to sound black.
Discusses the woes of pregnant school girls.
He feels like a bird and acts like a dog.

At lunch time on Sunday he’s back in the tavern
And drinks from midday until three,
He talks deeply about girls and whiskey
And each motion of his says ‘look at me’.
But by night time, before watching ‘Hel Straeon’,
He’s lost in the bubbles of the bath, most likely.
The metamorphosis is over for another week
When the rebel goes down the plug with the water.

And on Monday morning he’s back in the office,
And the crease in his trouser is as sharp as a blade.
The Weekend Rebel looks around him
And realizes that he’s made.

To buy the album click - 

https://amzn.to/2ULazgO

Abacus

 Can/ Song: Abacus

Canwr/Singer: Bryn Fon Album: Abacus Prynwch Abacus / Buy Abacus: http://www.sadwrn.com/cd.asp?id=497 Welsh Music Blog / Blog Cerddoriaeth Cymraeg: http://welshmusic-cerddoriaethcymraeg... Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/Welsh_Music Today I'll be playing a Welsh song on my programme "PPS" (which airs at noon on www.spectrumonair.com). I have always found that a very enjoyable way of learning a language is to listen to songs in that language - and to use a translation to enhance my own vocabulary. Of course many songs shorten words - but, over time both your ear for lyrics and vocabularly improves. I'm very grateful to, in particular, Marc Griffiths whose show on BBC Radio Cymru on Saturday evenings have introduced to music, singers and groups, who I have come to love - and have improved my Welsh.

One particular favourite is Bryn Fôn - and 'Abacus' - these are the lyrics in Welsh - and an English translation.

CYTGAN: Geiriau: Ti'n gadael i mi gredu bo gyn ti ddim diddordeb Wedyn cynnig cysur, y cysur mwyaf glandag Fethishi ymateb, mae'n rhaid mod i yn ddwl Ond roeddet ti 'di chwarae 'fo Abacus fy meddwl Ti'n gadael i mi greu y broblem o ddau un Wedyn cynnig ateb, dy ateb di dy hun Fedraim cael fy mhen rownd y sym anhygoel hon Ti chwalu'r Abacus, Abacus fy nghalon Mae un ag un yn ddau a chdi a fo 'di rheiny Dwi'n cyfri dim i chdi - yr un odd sydd ddim yn rhannu Ond cerddais lawr y bryn yn rhannu fy mreuddwydion Yn tynnu gwallt fy mhen Tynnu gwallt fy mhen A chyfri fy mendithion Ti'n gadael i mi feddwl fod rhywbeth yn y gwynt Ond gwn yn mer fy esgyrn - ddaw'r ateb ddim ynghynt Ti'n cynnig rhif dy ffon fel mathemateg pur A'r cwbl dwi angen ydi'r ateb i fy nghur Ti'n gadael i mi fynd efo cusan ar fy moch 'Di'r gawn ni rywbryd eto jysd ddim yn canu cloch Y batri aeth yn fflat yn y gyfrifiannell hon Ti di chwalu'r Abacus, Abacus fy nghalon CYTGAN: Mae un ag un yn ddau a chdi a fo 'di rheiny Dwi'n cyfri dim i chdi - yr un odd sydd ddim yn rhannu Ond cerddais lawr y bryn yn rhannu fy mreuddwydion Yn tynnu gwallt fy mhen Tynnu gwallt fy mhen A chyfri fy mendithion Un dau tri Mam yn dal y pry Pry wedi marw Mam yn crio'n arw Un dau tri Mam yn dal y pry Pry wedi marw Mam yn crio'n arw Un dau tri Mam yn dal y pry Pry wedi marw Mam yn crio'n arw Un dau tri Mam yn dal y pry Pry wedi marw Mam yn crio'n arw CYTGAN: Mae un ag un yn ddau a chdi a fo 'di rheiny Dwi'n cyfri dim i chdi - yr un odd sydd ddim yn rhannu Ond cerddais lawr y bryn yn rhannu fy mreuddwydion Yn tynnu gwallt fy mhen Tynnu gwallt fy mhen A chyfri fy mendithion Un ag un yn ddau a chdi a fo 'di rheiny Dwi'n cyfri dim i chdi - yr un odd sydd ddim yn rhannu Ond cerddais lawr y bryn yn rhannu fy mreuddwydion Yn tynnu gwallt fy mhen Tynnu gwallt fy mhen A chyfri fy mendithion LYRICS - ENGLISH TRANSLATION: You allow me to believe that you're not interested Then offer me solace, such unfeeling solace I did not respond - I must be a fool But you had messed around with the abacus in my mind You allow me to believe this two-one problem Then you offer an answer, your own answer I can't get my mind around this complex equation You've demolished the Abacus, the Abacus in my heart CHORUS: One and one is two and that is you and him I mean nothing to you -- that odd number that doesn't divide I walked down the hill, sharing my dreams Pulling the hair from my head Pulling the hair from my head And counting my blessings. You allow me to think that something's in the wind But I know in my bones that the answer won't come soon You offer your phone number like pure mathematics And the only thing I need is the answer to my ache You allow me to leave with a kiss on my cheek The "well meet again soon" just doesn't ring a bell The battery went dead in this calculator You've demolished the Abacus, the Abacus in my heart CHORUS: One and one is two and that is you and him I mean nothing to you -- that odd number that doesn't divide I walked down the hill, sharing my dreams Pulling the hair from my head Pulling the hair from my head And counting my blessings. One two three Mum catches the fly When the fly is dead Mum cries One two three Mum catches the fly When the fly is dead Mum cries One two three Mum catches the fly When the fly is dead Mum cries One two three Mum catches the fly When the fly is dead Mum cries CHORUS: One and one is two and that is you and him I mean nothing to you -- that odd number that doesn't divide I walked down the hill, sharing my dreams Pulling the hair from my head Pulling the hair from my head And counting my blessings. One and one is two and that is you and him I mean nothing to you -- that odd number that doesn't divide I walked down the hill, sharing my dreams Pulling the hair from my head Pulling the hair from my head And counting my blessings.