This goes one better ...
Neighbours ... by Gillian Clarke.
That spring was late.
We watched the sky and studied charts for shouldering isobars.
Birds were late to pair.
Crows drank from the lamb's eye.
Over Finland small birds fell: song-thrushes
steering north, smudged signatures on light,
migrating warblers, nightingales.
Wing-beats failed over fjords, each lung a sip of gall
.Children were warned of their dangerous beauty.
Milk was spilt in Poland. Each quarrel
the blowback from some old story,
a mouthful of bitter air from the Ukraine
brought by the wind out of its box of sorrows.
This spring a lamb sips caesium on a Welsh hill.
A child, lifting her head to drink the rain,takes into her blood the poisoned arrow.
Now we are all neighbourly, each little town in Europe
twinned to Chernobyl, each heart with the burnt firemen,
the child on the Moscow train.
In the democracy of the virus and the toxin we wait.
We watch for spring migrations,
one bird returning with green in its voice.
Glasnost. Golau glas. A first break of blue.
I heard her reading it on the radio yesterday .... in the car. Me that is. Not Gillian.
Now then, with yesterday's " one-Welsh-word-poem" I showed you how there were in fact more... I just stuck to 3-letter Welsh words ...this time I'll reap the slender harvest of 4-letter words and see what I can find ...
That spring was late.
We watched the sky and studied charts for shouldering isobars.
Birds were late to pair.
Crows drank from the lamb's eye.
Over Finland small birds fell: song-thrushes
steering north, smudged signatures on light,
migrating warblers, nightingales.
Wing-beats failed over fjords, each lung a sip of gall.
Children were warned of their dangerous beauty.
Milk was spilt in Poland. Each quarrel
the blowback from some old story,
a mouthful of bitter air from the Ukraine
brought by the wind out of its box of sorrows.
This spring a lamb sips caesium on a Welsh hill.
A child, lifting her head to drink the rain,takes into her blood the poisoned arrow.
Now we are all neighbourly, each little town in Europe
twinned to Chernobyl, each heart with the burnt firemen,
the child on the Moscow train.
In the democracy of the virus and the toxin we wait.
We watch for spring migrations,
one bird returning with green in its voice.
Glasnost. Golau glas. A first break of blue.
Well, I'm sure you'll find more .. and there's plenty of 3-letter words in there. I could have cheated with mall ... which has 4 letters in English, but not in Welsh. But be careful .. it could get a bit obsessive. Anyhow, where's the poem with three Welsh words in it ?