Pobol Annwn! Sut fath o lol 'di hyn, 'te? Be wnawn ni efo'r tomen o sbwriel gordeimladwy 'ma, rwan?
As an actual (as, in Welsh-speaking) Welshman and a native of Ynys Mon, I cannot quite put words to what it was that made the local farmer lie to Mark, although if he was one of the bollockheads I went to school with, I can hazard a guess. Herewith, three poems; two by our national bard RS Thomas and one by Harri Webb. Twll din pob sais dd A Peasant Iago Prytherch his name, though, be it allowed, Just an ordinary man of the bald Welsh hills, Who pens a few sheep in a gap of cloud. Docking mangels, chipping the green skin >From the yellow bones with a half-witted grin Of satisfaction, or churning the crude earth To a stiff sea of clods that glint in the wind - So are his days spent, his spittled mirth Rarer than the sun that cracks the cheeks Of the gaunt sky perhaps once in a week. And then at night see him fixed in his chair Motionless, except when he leans to gob in the fire. There is something frightening in the vacancy of his mind. His clothes, sour with years of sweat And animal contact, shock the refined, But affected, sense with their stark naturalness. Yet this is your prototype, who, season by season Against siege of rain and the wind's attrition, Preserves his stock, an impregnable fortress Not to be stormed, even in death's confusion. Remember him, then, for he, too, is a winner of wars, Enduring like a tree under the curious stars. Iago Prytherch Iago Prytherch, forgive my naming you. You are so far in your small fields >From the world's eye, sharpening your blade On a cloud's edge, no one will tell you How I made fun of you, or pitied either Your long soliloquies, crouched at your slow And patient surgery under the faint November rays of the sun's lamp. Made fun of you? That was their graceless Accusation, because I took Your rags for theme, because I showed them Your thought's bareness; science and art, The mind's furniture, having no chance To install themselves, because of the great Draught of nature sweeping the skull. Fun? Pity? No word can describe My true feelings. I passed and saw you Labouring there, your dark figure Marring the simple geometry Of the square fields with its gaunt question. My poems were made in its long shadow Falling coldly across the page. Ianto Rhydderch: Tch Tch One day while I was docking swedes With a slow moronic grin And all my ancestors' misdeeds Wrought their sour death within. Suddenly there came into view A figure gaunt and tall. He said, Forgive me naming you. I made no sound at all. He carried on at tedious length About my life so grim, It took all my idiot peasant strength To be polite to him. At last he ceased and strode away, The cold Welsh rain came down, In puddles in that barren clay I watched my country drown. Then, indistinguishable from mud, I started my old car, The sickness of my tainted blood Inclined me to a jar. And oh what festering itch of sin Brought this damp thought to me As I fuddled in a squalid inn: Un bain't much help to we. ___________________________________________________ Email Disclaimer This communication may contain confidential or privileged information and is for the attention of the named recipient only. It should not be passed on to any other person. Information relating to any company or security, is for information purposes only and should not be interpreted as a solicitation or offer to buy or sell any security. The information on which this communication is based has been obtained from sources we believe to be reliable, but we do not guarantee its accuracy or completeness. All expressions of opinion are subject to change without notice. All e-mail messages, and associated attachments, are subject to interception and monitoring for lawful business purposes. (c) 2002 Cazenove Service Company or affiliates. Cazenove & Co. Ltd and Cazenove Fund Management Limited provide independent advice and are regulated by the Financial Services Authority and members of the London Stock Exchange. Cazenove Fund Management Jersey is a branch of Cazenove Fund Management Limited and is regulated by the Jersey Financial Services Commission. Cazenove Investment Fund Management Limited, regulated by the Financial Services Authority and a member of IMA, promotes only its own products and services. ___________________________________________________
