01/03/2026
Dydd Gŵyr Dewi hapus i chi gyd. 🌼 🏴
Today we celebrate the preservation of our traditional, Welsh cockle industry, honour and celebrate our Welsh language, and reflect upon Wales’s deep relationship with its coastal heritage.
The Cockle Woman By Menna Elfyn
Translated by Elin ap Hywel
The late afternoon caller,
her basket, a linen coverlet,
like the laying of communion;
then suddenly, the cackle
of cockles, and bara lawr,
a falling tone on greaseproof,
and the deal’s deliverance.
Later, my mother at suppertime
would season pity on the poor
lady, for her long journey,
on a double-decker bus
from Gower to Pontardawe;
gladdened too at her return
all the lighter,
shillings instead of shells,
as we sifted our forks like adventurers.
Her smile is still alive,
Melting into my mother’s welcome;
two heartshaped cockles
who built their homes
on sand, before the tide’s curl,
and a shawl’s fringe on the shore;
sunset on water, and skin
a fine malt vinegar,
burning lip.
And ah, the salt air of Gower,
days of spins, unpacking,
our picnics, near sea lavender.
But one gaze still lingers,
her sacrament at our door,
the beer pint catches,
to me in the Manse’s temperance,
was the sound
of innocence, descending,
a coming of age:
that emptying, emptying cry.
