The short walk from Gwastedyn to Cwm Duad enshrouds the standing stone of Myrddin ap prytherch, third of the ap prytherch wizards, favourite colour green. Here etched upon a cedarn cover indent the words of Waldo Williams, poet, bard and rhymesmith.
Un funud fach cyn elo'r haul o'r wybren
Un funud fwyn cyn delo'r hwyr i'w hynt,
I gofio am y pethau anghofiedig
Ar goll yn awr yn llwch yr amser gynt.
Beautiful words indeed, but what do they mean? We don't know, for he has written in a strange and ancient tongue. One man does know however, and he's with me now. From the flat above Daisy's chip shop it's Llanfihangel-y-Creuddun's very own and onely Prysor Davies.
REJ:- Good afternoon and welcome Prysor Davies and many thanks for coming. Did you have a pleasant journey?
PD:- Troed mas o'r drws yw hanner daith.
REJ:- Indeed. And a watched clock never boils twice a day. Now Waldo Williams, perhaps the greatest of the romantic poets never to take opium, wouldn't you agree?
PD:- Saesneg! Iaith y Diawl! Iesu Mawr!
REJ:- The devil speaks many languages Prysor, a bit harsh of you to single out English. Now Waldo was popular with the ladies of Preseli, if I can put it delicately....
PD:- Fe fydd y Tywysog Glyndwr yn dod nol i lladd pob Sais yng Nghymru. Siwr o fod.
REJ:- Well there might be some difficulties with that approach. I have friends on the Abercreuddun council and in my honest opinion they would take quite a dim view of zombie princes killing our english friends. Even in Machynlleth. Back to Waldo Williams. It is often said of his poem 'Y Tangnefeddwyr' that he was seeking to express a yearning for the reestablishment of paradise lost through his Christ-like archetypes reminiscent of Twm and Marged in 'Yr hen allt'. What is your opinion on this perhaps contraversial claim?
PD:- Ffwrch y Diawl yffern!!! Rwy'n mynd adref!!! Nos da!!!
REJ:- Well...I....er....yes...goodnight to you too Mr Davies.
I'm wondering if, like it was said of the Beatles albums many years ago, you read that language backwards it might have a recognisable message in it. I'll let you know when I've completed the exercise.
ReplyDeleteThe tea-towel in the shop at Pontarfynach claims it is the oldest language in europe. But towels are not languages. The feroshi tribe of Lima speak with knotted towels, yes indeed, and Price the baker says the language of the universe, the forces and particles of physics, are merely local topological knots in spacetime, but Duw! how that man drinks since Mair left! We are the punctuation in the cosmic narrative! The hwyl when he got bowel cancer! Iesu mawr! Price the semi-colon isn't it?!
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