Dyddiad: 22 Gorffennaf 1915



Of all the ills to which the flesh
Is heir to (and you'll find
They're legion), there is one the worst
Of all: that's to be blind;
To never see the sun at dawn
Burst up across the sea,
Or watch the mighty ocean roll
In all its majesty,

To never see the ships come in,
To hear, but never see,
The sailors busy on the decks,
The ever bustling quay!
Of all the ills we're heir to, this
Affliction seems to me
To call from every one of us
The deepest sympathy.

[Mae’r cartŵn yn dangos dyn efo ffon.]
Tapping along the shore.

And so I felt when there arrived
Among us here ??? day
A blind man, came here for his health—
Least, so I heard folk say.
A tall and well-built chap he was;
I met him on the shore.
And wouldn't thought him blind but for
The eyeshade that he wore.

He tapped his way 'long with a stick,
"Why bless yer heart," says I,
"One wouldn't think that you were blind, Ye move about so spry."
His mouth it twisted in a smile,
"Another sense," says he,
"Kind Providence provides for those
Afflicted, sir, like me."

[Mae’r cartŵn yn dangos Jack a'r dyn yn siarad gyda'n gilydd.]
"It's Providence, sir!"

His voice was educated, and
He seemed to know a lot
Of what was going on around;
And when at last we got
Upon the war, his face lit up,
And, 'pon my word, he knew
As much as I did 'bout the Fleet,
And 'bout our Army, too!

I met him often after that,
And sometimes miles away,
Tapping along; but, strange, he seemed
To never lose his way.
Always alone. And when I'd stop
And ask how he could find
His way, he'd answer, "Providence
Helps those, sir, who are blind."

[Mae’r cartŵn yn dangos dyn yn gweiddi ar Jack.]
"That book is mine!"

Well, one day, near the signal-tower,
I chanced to find a book.
Someone had dropped it, and, of course,
I opened it to look
Who it belonged to. Bless yer heart,
I scarce believed my eyes.
It was a German code-book Then
The old blind man I spies.

And, strange to say, the shade was gone
From off his eyes, and he
Was hunting anxiously about;
And when he noticed me,
He gave a shout: "That book is mine!"
Then noticed his mistake,
And pulled the shade down; but I'd seen
His blindness was a fake.

[Mae’r cartŵn yn dangos Jack yn cyfeirio at y carcharwr.]
It's the Kaiser next!

"Yer blindness is a blind!" I cries,
And ran and gripped him tight.
""Yer game is up"; but bless yer heart,
He fought with all his might
To break away from me; but list,
Ye learn a thing or two
Down on the lower deck, among
A battle cruiser's crew.

He's quilte safe now; he'll spy no more.
But there's one thing I'd say:
There still are "blind" men going about
The country every day.
Harmless and innocent they seem,
And raise your sympathy.
Take care they're not the same as mine—
Agents of Germany.

McMann, W. ‘Jack’s Yarns: "An Agent of Germany”.’ The Brecon County Times. 22 Gorff. 1915. 7.

Sylwadau (0)

Rhaid mewngofnodi i bostio sylw