R S Thomas

R_S_Thomas.jpg (66402 bytes)


Bu'r bardd R S Thomas yn byw yn Sarn y Plas wedi ymddeol o'r offeiriadaeth yn 1978, bu yng ngofal Llanfaelrhys ers 1967 ac yn adnabyddus i lawer ohonnom, felly does dim angen ei gyflwyno, mae gan pob Cymro siwr o fod gof amdano digon i ddweud ei fod yn un o feirdd seisnig gorau yr ugeinfed ganrif.

Dyma dair cerdd i'ch ysgogi i ddarllen mwy.


To live in Wales is to be conscious

At dusk of the spilled blood

That went to the making of the wild sky.

Dyeing the immaculate rivers

In all their courses.

It is to be aware

Above the noisy tractor

And hum of the machine

Of strife in the strung woods

Vibrant of sped arrows.

You cannot live in the present

At least not in Wales.

There is the language for instance

The soft consonants

Strange to the ear.

There are cries in the dark at night

As owls answer the moon.

And thick ambush of shadows

Hushed at the field corners.

There is no present in Wales

And no future,

There is only the past

Brittle with relics

Wind bitten towers and castles

With sham ghosts,

Mouldering quarries and mines,

An impotent people

Sick with inbreeding

Worrying the carcass of an old song,



A pen appeared, and god said

"Write what it is to be

man" And my hand hovered

long over the page

until there, like footprints

of the lost traveller, letters

took shape on the pageís

blankness and I spelled out

the word "lonely" And my hand moved

to erase it, but the voices

of all those waiting at lifeís

window cried out loud" It is true.



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

In itís turn , in one day

You can witness the extent

Of the spectrum and grow rich

With looking. Have care

The wealth is for the few

And chosen. Those who crowd

A small window dirty it

With their breathing, though sublime

And inexhaustible the view.


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