#Welsh
We met under a shower of bird-notes. Fifty years passed, love’s moment
Looking upon this tree with its qu… Of holding the earth, a leveret, i… Or marking the texture of its livi… A grey sea wrinkled by the winds o… I understand whence this man’s bod…
I look out over the timeless sea over the head of one, calendar to time’s passing, who is now open at the last month, her hair wintry… Am I catalyst of her mettle that,
Nineteen years now Under the same roof Eating our bread, Using the same air: Sighing, if one sighs,
Evans? Yes, many a time I came down his bare flight Of stairs into the gaunt kitchen With its wood fire, where crickets… Accompaniment to the black kettle’…
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…
The salmon lying in the depths of… Secretly as a thought in a dark mi… Is not so old as the owl of Cwm C… Who tells her sorrow nightly on th… The ousel singing in the woods of…
We were a people taut for war; the… Were no harder, the thin grass Clothed them more warmly than the… Shirts our small bones. We fought, and were always in retr…
Davies thought life was long; there was a sameness in the song. Pugh thought it all too brief, the fruit ripe before the leaf turned. How is it with you
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…
When he came in, she was there. When she looked at him, he smiled. There were lights in time’s wave breaking on an eternal shore.
Who put that crease in your soul, Davies, ready this fine morning For the staid chapel, where the B… Sobers the sunlight? Who taught y… And scheme at once, your eyes turn…
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…
Hers is the clean apron, good for… Or lamp to embroider, as we talk s… In the long kitchen, while the whi… Turns to pastry in the great oven, Sweetly and surely as hay making
To live in Wales is to be conscio… At dusk of the spilled blood That went into the making of the w… Dyeing the immaculate rivers In all their courses.
