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R. S. Thomas

And You?

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
who have neither the greed of Pugh
nor Davies’ lack of zest
for the red meat on the breast?

#WelshWriters

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To a Young Poet

For the first twenty years you are… Bodily that is: as a poet, of cour… You are not born yet. It’s the ne… You cut your teeth on to emerge sm… For your brash courtship of the mu…
The Dark Well

They see you as they see you, A poor farmer with no name, Ploughing cloudward, sowing the wi… With squalls of gulls at the day’s… To me you are Prytherch, the man
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Dear parents, I forgive you my life, Begotten in a drab town, The intention was good; Passing the street now,
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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’…
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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…
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I am the farmer, stripped of love And thought and grace by the land’… But what I am saying over the fie… Desolate acres, rough with dew, Is, Listen, listen, I am a man li…
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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,
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We live in our own world, A world that is too small For you to stoop and enter Even on hands and knees, The adult subterfuge.
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The Village

Scarcely a street, too few houses To merit the title; just a way bet… The one tavern and the one shop That leads nowhere and fails at th… Of the short hill, eaten away
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And God held in his hand A small globe. Look he said. The son looked. Far off, As through water, he saw A scorched land of fierce
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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.
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The Small Window

In Wales there are jewels To gather, but with the eye Only. A hill lights up Suddenly; a field trembles With colour and goes out
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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.
This to Do

I have this that I must do One day: overdraw on my balance Of air, and breaking the surface Of water go down into the green Darkness to search for the door
The Return

Coming home was to that: The white house in the cool grass Membraned with shadow, the bright… Of stream that was its looking—gla… And smoke growing above the roof



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