#WelshWriters
The bows glided down, and the coas… Blackened with birds took a last l… At his thrashing hair and whale-bl… The trodden town rang its cobbles… Then good-bye to the fishermanned
The hunchback in the park A solitary mister Propped between trees and water From the opening of the garden loc… That lets the trees and water ente…
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…
The force that through the green f… Drives my green age; that blasts t… Is my destroyer. And I am dumb to tell the crooked… My youth is bent by the same wintr…
Do you not father me, nor the erec… For my tall tower’s sake cast in h… Do you not mother me, nor, as I a… The lovers’ house, lie suffering m… Do you not sister me, nor the erec…
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…
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
Into her lying down head His enemies entered bed, Under the encumbered eyelid, Through the rippled drum of the ha… And Noah’s rekindled now unkind d…
A bunch of the boys were whooping… The kid that handles the music—box… Back of the bar, in a solo game, s… And watching his luck was his ligh… When out of the night, which was f…
I, in my intricate image, stride o… Forged in man’s minerals, the bras… Laying my ghost in metal, The scales of this twin world trea… My half ghost in armour hold hard…
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…
Over Sir John’s hill, The hawk on fire hangs still; In a hoisted cloud, at drop of dus… And gallows, up the rays of his ey… And the shrill child’s play
Incarnate devil in a talking snake… The central plains of Asia in his… In shaping-time the circle stung a… In shapes of sin forked out the be… And God walked there who was a fi…
When the morning was waking over t… He put on his clothes and stepped… The locks yawned loose and a blast… He dropped where he loved on the b… And the funeral grains of the slau…