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Happy Saint David's Day

GUEST,Dave the Gnome 01 Mar 15 - 06:52 AM
GUEST,dewi the gnome 01 Mar 15 - 07:29 AM
GUEST,John James 01 Mar 15 - 08:03 AM
Musket 01 Mar 15 - 10:10 AM
breezy 01 Mar 15 - 02:09 PM
Felipa 01 Mar 15 - 03:34 PM
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Subject: Happy Saint David's Day
From: GUEST,Dave the Gnome
Date: 01 Mar 15 - 06:52 AM

Must be the first time I have I have managed to get this in first. My name saint and christening day when I was but 3 weeks old!

Dydd Gŵyl Dewi Sant!

(I think) :-)

Cheers

DtG


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Subject: RE: Happy Saint David's Day
From: GUEST,dewi the gnome
Date: 01 Mar 15 - 07:29 AM

Missed out the happy bit apparently

Dydd Gwŷl Dewi Sant hapus !

Good link for anyone interested.


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Subject: RE: Happy Saint David's Day
From: GUEST,John James
Date: 01 Mar 15 - 08:03 AM

On this day, yr dydd cyntaf mis Mawrth, the first day of March, we all marched from school to one of the many local chapels and had a service of celebration. and in the school playground during playtime we could hear the grown-ups singing away at their Cymanfa Ganu..a singing festival, if you like. Clearing the winter cobwebs out of the tubes!
Dydd Dewi Sant..gave way to Gwyl Dewi Sant..a festival of celebration of a culture, and survival ! Yma o Hyd & all that.
Diz Disley enjoyed speaking to me in a Welsh accent..he spent his childhood in Wales.
Reservoir dear boy, Reservoir...(as in Au'voir of course not as in Tryweryn)
JJ


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Subject: RE: Happy Saint David's Day
From: Musket
Date: 01 Mar 15 - 10:10 AM

White Rabbits!



More importantly it's my birthday.


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Subject: RE: Happy Saint David's Day
From: breezy
Date: 01 Mar 15 - 02:09 PM

Wearing the welsh scarf , red rugby -without brandings - a large cushion with y ddraig goch emblazened upon and 3 daffs I sat and played a selection of welsh tunes - tonau - ar y gitar in memory of my father and in celebration of yesterday's rugby result , as the whistling wind wended wildly.
then retired to support the green team
Next date 14th march


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Subject: RE: Happy Saint David's Day
From: Felipa
Date: 01 Mar 15 - 03:34 PM

I love this poem, and it's a true story

                                                   Miracle on St David's Day
                        
                              They flash upon that inward eye
                               Which is the bliss of solitude
                              - The Daffodils - William Worsworth

An afternoon yellow and open-mouthed
with daffodils. The sun treads the path
among cedars and enormous oaks.
It might be a country house, guests strolling,
the rumps of gardeners between nursery shrubs.   

I am reading poetry to the insane.
An old woman, interrupting, offers
as many buckets of coals as I need.
A beautiful chestnut-haired boy listens
entirely absorbed. A schizophrenic      

on a good day, they tell me later.
In a cage of first March sun a woman
sits not listening, not seeing, not feeling.
In her neat clothes, the woman is absent.
A big mild man is tenderly led

to his chair. He has never spoken.
His labourer's hands of his knees, he rocks
gently to the rhythyms of the poems.
I read to their prescences, absences,
to the big, dumb labouring man as he rocks.

He is suddenly standing, silently,
huge and mild, but I feel afraid. Like slow
movement of spring water or the first bird
of the year in the breaking darkness,
the labourer's voice recites The Daffodils'.

The nurses are frozen, alert; the patients
seem to listen. He is hoarse but word-perfect.
Outside the daffodils are still as wax,
a thousand, ten thousand, their syllables
unspoken, their creams and yellows still.

Forty years ago, in a Valleys school,
the class recited poetry by rote.
Since the dumbness of misery fell
he has remembered there was a music
of speech and that once he had something to say.

When he's done, before the applause, we observe
the flowers' silence. A thrush sings
and the daffodils are aflame.

Reprinted from :-
Gillian Clarke:Collected Poems
Carcanet 1997

The man who recited Wordsworth had been silent, not speaking, for years!


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Mudcat time: 20 September 2:55 AM EDT

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