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Wednesday, 31 May 2017



DAFYDD AP GWILYM

Dyfed a siomed, symud—ei mawrair,
      Am eryr bro yr hud;
   Doe wiwdymp yn dywedud,

Cyn hyn, Lywelyn, olud—tiriogaeth,
      Tŷ rhagof nis caeud;
   Agwrdd udd y gerdd oeddud,

Pryd glwys, prudd dadwys prif dud,—praff awdur
      Proffwydair, balchsyth, drud,
   Prif dda wawd, prawf ddywedud,

Fy ngheinllyw difyw, Deifr helgud,—baham,
      Bwhwman deigr neud glud,
   Fy nghanllaw y'm gadawud,

Gwawr gwir nef a llawr, llef alltud—oedd hon,
      Hyn oedd ddygn nas clywud;
   Gwae fi, Geli pob golud,

Pendefig, gwledig gwlad hud—is dwfn,
      Ys difai y'm dysgud.
   Pob meistrolrwydd a wyddud,

Neud dwfn dy alar, neud difud—fy llef
      Am fy llyw cadarnddrud,
   Nid diboen na'm atebud,

Gwae fi fod, elw clod, ail Clud—nyw ballodd,
      Heb allel dywedud,
   Gwn ofal tost gan ofud,

Gwae fi, Grist Celi, caled—o'm rhyfig
      A rhyfedd y'm cosbed,
   Gwymp oeddem oll cyn colled,

Gwae fi, Grist Celi, calon doll—yw'r fau,
      Wyf fyfyr am ddygngoll,
   Campus eirf, cwmpas arfoll,

Gwae fyfi fy Rhi, rhoi i'th ddarpar—Duw,
      Dwyn cadarnwalch cerddgar,
   Nid rhodd gŵyl, neud rhudd galar,

Gwae fi ddwyn, ail brwyn, breiniawl gyhoedd—llu,
      Llywodraeth y bobloedd;
   Lleas taerfalch, lles torfoedd,

Gwae fi weled, trwydded drwg,
Neuaddau milwr, tŵr teg,
Annawn oes, un yn ysig,

Gwae'r nai a oerai, a ery—gweled,
      Gwaelawd cof a'm deffry,
   Y llys fraith yn llaesu fry,

Llys gwin ac emys, ddigamoedd—gyllid,
      Och golli a'i gwnaddoedd,
   Llys naf aur, lles niferoedd,

Os marw fy ewythr, ys mawr—o ryfedd,
      Aur Afia Cymru i lawr,
   Nad eddwyf, nai a'i diddawr,

Gŵr oedd Lywelyn, gwir ganu—prudd,
      Cyn rhoi pridd i'w ddeutu,
   Pwynt rhyfel heb ymgelu,

Gŵr, nid gwas, a las o loes archoll—dur,
      A diriaid fu'r dygngoll,
   Gwrawl hawl mewn helm drwydoll,

Pwnc truan oerwan am eurwas—yw hyn,
      Honni mawr alanas,
   Cain arddelw cyfan urddas,

Dihareb yw hon, dywirir—ym mro,
      A laddo a leddir.
   Diben fo, hwn a dybir,

Llithr ddagrau bid mau, modd chweg,—och allell
      A chyllell faelereg,
   Llawer och dost ar osteg,

Nid diofal, ffyrfdal ffêr,
Y gelyn a wnêl galar;
A laddo dyn â'i loywddur,

Heilbryn flodeuyn diwyd—a dderyw,
      Ddeurudd diymoglyd;
   Llwyr ydd aeth, gwingaeth gyngyd,

      A gaiff dial cuall;
   A wnêl drwg o dreigl anghall

Dall fydd byd, dull gwŷd gwedy,—ddwyn llygad
      Oedd yn Lloegr a Chymru.
   Dwg i'th wledd, ni'm gomeddy,

Cyfiawnder fu ef, cyfundeb—cyrdd aur,
      Cerddwriaeth ddoethineb;
   Cyweirdant pob cywirdeb,

Lles bychan buan yw bod—yn rhullfalch,
      A'r hollfyd fel ffurf rhod;
   Llew syberw lliaws wybod,

Llew olwg farchog, Llywelyn,—o'th las
      I'th lys deg yn Emlyn,
   Llai yw'r dysg, medd llawer dyn,

Och ddwyn Llywelyn, och ddoeth,—a ddodaf,
      Och a ddyd ei gyfoeth,
   Och rydd a roddaf drannoeth,

Och, och, y Ddôl Goch, ddaly gŵyl—barchus
      Am dy berchen annwyl;
   Och wedy'r ddwyoch ddiwyl,

Wylais lle gwelais lle gwely—f'arglwydd,
      Band oedd fawrglod hynny?
   Gair ateb, wyf gâr yty,

Gwaelfyrn gwawl tefyrn, gweli tafawd,—gwaith
      Gwaeth bellach myfyrdawd;
   Gwaeg cedyrn, gwag yw ceudawd,

Salw a thost am iôr costrith,
Selerwin fyrdd-drin feirdd-dreth,
Campus reddf cwmpas roddfath,

Coeth edling, fflowr dling dy lis—oreuraid,
      Wared clochdy Paris;
   Cymro glew a'n gadewis,

Truan ac eirian, pawb a garo—dadl,
      Aed Landudoch heno;
   Doethineb neud aeth yno,
   Diwyd grair dan dywod gro.

Tuesday, 30 May 2017

A Letter To My Aunt - Poem by Dylan Thomas
A Letter To My Aunt Discussing The Correct Approach To Modern Poetry


To you, my aunt, who would explore
The literary Chankley Bore,
The paths are hard, for you are not
A literary Hottentot
But just a kind and cultured dame
Who knows not Eliot (to her shame).
Fie on you, aunt, that you should see
No genius in David G.,
No elemental form and sound
In T.S.E. and Ezra Pound.
Fie on you, aunt! I'll show you how
To elevate your middle brow,
And how to scale and see the sights
From modernist Parnassian heights.

First buy a hat, no Paris model
But one the Swiss wear when they yodel,
A bowler thing with one or two
Feathers to conceal the view;
And then in sandals walk the street
(All modern painters use their feet
For painting, on their canvas strips,
Their wives or mothers, minus hips).

Perhaps it would be best if you
Created something very new,
A dirty novel done in Erse
Or written backwards in Welsh verse,
Or paintings on the backs of vests,
Or Sanskrit psalms on lepers' chests.
But if this proved imposs-i-ble
Perhaps it would be just as well,
For you could then write what you please,
And modern verse is done with ease.

Do not forget that 'limpet' rhymes
With 'strumpet' in these troubled times,
And commas are the worst of crimes;
Few understand the works of Cummings,
And few James Joyce's mental slummings,
And few young Auden's coded chatter;
But then it is the few that matter.
Never be lucid, never state,
If you would be regarded great,
The simplest thought or sentiment,
(For thought, we know, is decadent);
Never omit such vital words
As belly, genitals and -----,
For these are things that play a part
(And what a part) in all good art.
Remember this: each rose is wormy,
And every lovely woman's germy;
Remember this: that love depends
On how the Gallic letter bends;
Remember, too, that life is hell
And even heaven has a smell
Of putrefying angels who
Make deadly whoopee in the blue.
These things remembered, what can stop
A poet going to the top?

A final word: before you start
The convulsions of your art,
Remove your brains, take out your heart;
Minus these curses, you can be
A genius like David G.

Take courage, aunt, and send your stuff
To Geoffrey Grigson with my luff,
And may I yet live to admire
How well your poems light the fire.

Re Lloyd-George:
   ' .......So that was what "politics" now meant for Welsh Liberalism, not the corporate struggle for a noble aim, but an obsequious subservience to the ascendancy of one man; no policy for a nation however strong that man's passion for social justice. It is indeed a far cry from here to 1886.
     The advice was taken, but it was not for Wales, but her leaders who reaped the "substantial benefits." For the parallel between the effect on Wales of Henry Vll and Lloyd George can be taken farther than the seduction of the dominant class from their loyalty in Wales under the cloak of service to her; it holds for the method adopted to confirm Welshmen in their new allegiance - a revolting system of rewards. The struggling nationalist movement was overwhelmed by an avalanche of offices and honours. Between this famous victory of 1906 and 1918 some three dozen Welsh M.P.s received honours or appointments, and the policy, which was extended to a far wider field than the political, was apparently pursued with complete cynicism.
     The Liberal victory in Wales in 1906 was held to "reflect the rapid growth of a vehement spirit of nationalism in Wales." No doubt it did reflect the nationalism of the people of Wales; it is the ordinary people of Wales who have been through the last four centuries the custodians of the Welsh tradition. It was not the people of Wales who failed, but their leaders. Had they leaders worthy of them, with strength enough to resist the fleshpots of the English Parties, they would by now have been led to national freedom. One of that generation was asked to point out the difference between Irish and Welsh nationalism. "The leaders of Irish nationalism," he said, "live a great deal of their time in gaol, and many of them die on the gallows. In Wales they live in comfort and die with a considerable amount of property to dispose of under their wills.
     Not much was needed to keep the Welsh Parliamentary Party in its place. One searches in vain through these decades for a tribute of admiration to their selfless struggle for Wales, for although there were some very fine exceptions among them, they made no such struggle. "The Welsh (Parliamentary) Party as such is a negligible factor in our national life. Where it ought to dominate it is utterly unregarded. It exerts no authority in Wales; it wields no influence at Westminster. It has never evolved a programme or inspired a policy. Not once in its uneventful history has it heralded an advance in Welsh Politics."
     When the new Parliament assembled Ellis Griffith proposed to the Parliamentary Party that its decisions should be binding upon its members, on all matters, but found only five to support him. Thus even when they were all drawn from one Party, there was no unity among them on Welsh questions? Such a "Party" does not even aspire to effectiveness.
     The Welsh cultural movement as distinct from the political, went from strength to strength in this period. It was the heyday of Y Beirniad, Cymru and Y Geninen, of new life in poetry, prose, literary criticism and industrial research; and this development was to prove far more fruitful than the sterile politics of the time. It is to this period that we owe the National Library, the National Museum, and the Welsh Department of Education, which was given through the influence of Lloyd George as a sop for the failure to secure a Council of Education for Wales.'

     The moral of the story is that English Parties and their Welsh puppets are self-serving and not Wales serving.

VOTE LEANNE WOOD (and PLAID CYMRU - THE PARTY OF WALES) whose 'raison d'être is the defence of Wales and is no puppet.

Two of the first things we learn in Merthyr almost from the cradle are that Keir Hardie founded the Labour Party and that Joseph Parry wrote 'Myfanwy '. Hardie helped to establish the Independent Labour Party in 1893, The Labour Party was formed in 1906, from the Labour Representation Committee. Hardie became M.P. for Merthyr in 1900 standing for the I.L.P. within the Labour Representation Committee that included Liberal Trades-Unionists. Many were his disagreements with the Labour Party, and the I.L.P. held its own conferences. On 27th February 1900, representatives of all the socialist groups in Britain (the Independent Labour Party (ILP), the Social Democratic Federation (SDF) and the Fabian Society, met with Trades Union leaders. The Conference established a Labour Representation committee (LRC). The Committee included two members of the ILP (Keir Hardie and James Parker), two from the SDF (Harry Quelch and James Macdonald), one member of the Fabian Society (Edward R. Pease), and seven Trades Unionists. Whereas the ILP, SDF,and the Fabian Society were Socialist organizations the trades union leaders tended to favour the Liberal Party. The LRC won 29 seats. At a meeting on 12th February, 1906, the group of MPs decided to change from the LRC to the Labour Party. Hardie was elected chairman and Macdonald was selected to be the party's secretary. Despite providing the two leaders of the party, only six of the MPs were supporters of the ILP. Of the 29 MPS only 18 were socialists. This success was due to a secret alliance with the Liberal Party.
      Now we come to 'Myfanwy', the words, which I always considered in the context of 'written by' were in fact written by Richard Davies (Mynyddog Mwynfawr), Joseph Parry composed the music to his words.
     

Monday, 29 May 2017

ANJELA DUVAL
Quatre Poires
Cartes Postales/Kartennoù-Post

   -Quelle belle carte postale !
   Des bateaux dans un port au Portugal
   Et une autre belle carte !
   Un vieux château en Ecosse
   Et celle-ci avec ses vaches chevelues :
   Une belle photo de l'île de Skye
   Et celle-ci, la bleue ? Et celle-ci? Euskadi !
   Avec du bon Breton au verso.
   Non. On ne m'oublie pas.
   ... Et pourtant, mon Dieu !
Par manque de main-d'oeuvre ma moisson se perd
                    Sous le mauvais temps
                    Sous le vent fou
   ... Ces jeunes-la, robustes
                    Forts des bras
                    Lestes des jambes
   Cela leur aurait pris combien de temps
                    Pour faire la petite moisson
                    Dont je tire mon pain sacré ? A peine
                                Une petite journée...

  

DERYN Y BWN O'R BANNA

Deryn y Bwn o'r Banna
Aeth i rodio'r gwylia;
Lle disgynnodd o ar 'i ben,
Bwm, bwm, bwm, bwm,
Ond i bwn o fala.

Deryn y Bwn a gododd,
Y fala i gyd a gariodd
   Dros y Banna i farchnad Caer,
      Bwm, bwm, etc.,
Ac yno'n daer fe'u gwerthodd.

Fala, fala, filoedd,
Fala melyn laweroedd;
   Y plant yn gweiddi am fala'n groch,
      Bwm, bwm, etc.,
Rhoi dima goch am gannoedd.

Deryn y Bwn aeth adra
Yn ôl dros ben y Banna:
   Gwaeddai, "Meistres, O gwelwch y pres,
      Bwm,bwm, etc.,
A ges i wrth werthu fala."

THE SONGS OF WALES (CANEUON CYMRU)
Eryri Wen

Eryri Wen, Frenhines bur,
Daearol Ferch y ne,
Mewn awyr las ac wyneb glir,
Ac yn a'y sanctaidd le.
Yn fab "y mynydd hwn" y'm gwaed,
I dy ofni er erioed;
Mae tân yn rhedeg trwy fy ngwaed,
Pam saf wyf wrth dy droed!

O'th gylch mae cestyll cedyrn mawr,
Yn myn'd friwsion mân.
Oth gylch mae twrdd tymhestloedd gawr,
Yn rhu o'u gauaf gân.
Ond dyma gastell gododd Duw,
Ag eira ar ei ben,
I Annibyniaeth Cymru fyw
Am byth, Eryri Wen.

Annie Ebrel & Nolwen le Buhe

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Born Aug 3 1951, Merthyr Tydfil, Cymru/Wales.Moved to Brittany Sept. 1979.I run a rustic Bar in a village of fewer than 800h.Real ale& best whisk(e)ys.At the moment I'm occupied with photos, flowers and music. For more information look up my site & blog: http://crwtynrhifnaw.blogspot.com my story: http://taffawrnantmorlais.blogspot.com my photos:http://picasaweb.google.com/BynWalters    my photos: http://patrimoinebreton/blogspot.com    a.n.other: http://mymiscellaneous-bynbrynman.blogspot.com

 

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