So today, two months on, I finally saw swallows over our street. Two sightings and a twittering. And not before time.
And now a bit more Welsh poetry, specially for Larry. This is by Hedd Wyn
Dim ond lleuad borffor,
Ar fin y mynydd llwm;
A sŵn hen afon Prysor
Yn canu yn y cwm...
Only the purple moon
At the edge of the bare mountain;
And the sound of the old river Prysor
Singing in the valley
Translation is given by Gwyn Jones in A Prospect of Wales