#WelshWriters
It is the sinners’ dust-tongued be… When, with his torch and hourglass… His beast heel cleft in a sandal, Time marks a black aisle kindle fr… Grief with dishevelled hands tear…
In my craft or sullen art Exercised in the still night When only the moon rages And the lovers lie abed With all their griefs in their arm…
Ears in the turrets hear Hands grumble on the door, Eyes in the gables see The fingers at the locks. Shall I unbolt or stay
There once was a Square, such a s… And he loved a trim Triangle; But she was a flirt and around her… Vainly she made him dangle. Oh he wanted to wed and he had no…
To-day, this insect, and the world… Now that my symbols have outelbowe… Time at the city spectacles, and h… The dear, daft time I take to nud… In trust and tale I have divided…
A saint about to fall, The stained flats of heaven hit an… To the kissed kite hems of his sha… On the last street wave praised The unwinding, song by rock,
We lying by seasand, watching yell… And the grave sea, mock who deride Who follow the red rivers, hollow Alcove of words out of cicada shad… For in this yellow grave of sand a…
Waking alone in a multitude of lov… Surprised in the opening of her ni… His golden yesterday asleep upon t… And this day’s sun leapt up the sk… Was miraculous virginity old as lo…
I have longed to move away From the hissing of the spent lie And the old terrors’ continual cry Growing more terrible as the day Goes over the hill into the deep s…
Too proud to die; broken and blind… The darkest way, and did not turn… A cold kind man brave in his narro… On that darkest day. Oh, forever… He lie lightly, at last, on the la…
All that I owe the fellows of the… And all the dead bequeathed from p… Lies in the fortuned bone, the fla… Like senna stirs along the ravaged… O all I owe is all the flesh inhe…
A grief ago, She who was who I hold, the fats… Or, water-lammed, from the scythe-… Hell wind and sea, A stem cementing, wrestled up the…
This day winding down now At God speeded summer’s end In the torrent salmon sun, In my seashaken house On a breakneck of rocks
Unluckily for a death Waiting with phoenix under The pyre yet to be lighted of my s… And for the woman in shades Saint carved and sensual among the…
The tombstone told when she died. Her two surnames stopped me still. A virgin married at rest. She married in this pouring place, That I struck one day by luck,