#WelshWriters
Dear parents, I forgive you my life, Begotten in a drab town, The intention was good; Passing the street now,
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…
Being unwise enough to have marrie… I never knew when she was not acti… ‘I love you’ she would say; I hea… Sigh. ‘I hate you’; I could never… They were still there. She was lo…
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 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…
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…
It was beautiful as God must be beautiful: glacial eyes that had looked on violence and come to terms with it; a body too huge
It is a matter of a black cat On a bare cliff top in March Whose eyes anticipate The gorse petals; The formal equation of
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…
My father is dead. I who am look at him who is not, as once he went looking for me in the woman who was.
She is young. Have I the right Even to name her? Child, It is not love I offer Your quick limbs, your eyes; Only the barren homage
The furies are at home in the mirror; it is their address… Even the clearest water, if deep enough can drown. Never think to surprise them.
I emerge from the mind’s cave into the worse darkness outside, where things pass and the Lord is in none of them. I have heard the still, small voic…
It is calm. It is as though we lived in a garden that had not yet arrived at the knowledge of