Mynydd Du

 

muddy tears from the past

sliding down the cheeks

of those who remember them

 

the thunder obliterated a generation

that would benefit from the industry

of their fathers

 

who prayed it all would last

while bosses planned

to take away their livelihood and history

 

they piled the slurry

into an unreliable black mountain

towering over everything

 

and when it came it changed

the green fields to stinking sludge

and took away the light

 

and the valleys sang

their sad requiem

cysgu rhai bach tynn

 

 

 

 

 

For the children of Aberfan

Translation

Mynyd d Du (Black Mountain)

cysgu rhai bach tynn (sleep tight little ones)