#Welsh #XXCentury
In Wales there are jewels To gather, but with the eye Only. A hill lights up Suddenly; a field trembles With colour and goes out
There are nights that are so still that I can hear the small owl call… far off and a fox barking miles away. It is then that I lie in the lean hours awake listening
And God held in his hand A small globe. Look he said. The son looked. Far off, As through water, he saw A scorched land of fierce
It seems wrong that out of this bi… Black, bold, a suggestion of dark Places about it, there yet should… Such rich music, as though the not… Ore were changed to a rare metal
The idiot goes round and around With his brother in a bumping car At the fair. The famous idiot Smile hangs over the car’s edge, Illuminating nothing. This is man…
And this was a civilization That came to nothing—he spurned wi… The slave—coloured dust. We breat… Thankfully, oxygen to our culture. Somebody found a curved bone
I have seen the sun break through to illuminate a small field for a while, and gone my way and forgotten it. But that was the… of great price, the one field that…
Dear parents, I forgive you my life, Begotten in a drab town, The intention was good; Passing the street now,
Beasts rearing from green slime— an illiterate country, unable to r… its own name. Stones moved into po… on the hills’ sides; snakes laid t… in their cold shadow. The earth su…
The old man comes out on the hill and looks down to recall earlier d… in the valley. He sees the stream… the church stand, hears the litter… children’s voices. A chill in the…
I have been all men known to histo… Wondering at the world and at time… I have seen evil, and the light bl… Innocent love under a spring sky. I have been Merlin wandering in t…
When I was a child and the soft f… Quietly as snow on the bare bough… My father brought me trout from th… From whose chill lips the water so… Dull grew their eyes, the beautifu…
It is this great absence that is like a presence, that comp… me to address it without hope of a reply. It is a room I enter from which someone has just
Too far for you to see The fluke and the foot-rot and the… Gnawing the skin from the small bo… The sheep are grazing at Bwlch-y-… Arranged romantically in the usual…
They see you as they see you, A poor farmer with no name, Ploughing cloudward, sowing the wi… With squalls of gulls at the day’s… To me you are Prytherch, the man