Lynette Roberts: Collected Poems

by Lynette Roberts

  Father of Denbigh Rock, Mother of Pembroke Stream: Roberts of Ruthin (i.e. Great-grandfather John Roberts of Bryn Mawr, one of the founders of the London Missionary Society): Garbutt ap Williams of Pembroke. My parents.

  Stonehenge Blue: Sir Cyril Fox (director of the National Museum of Wales), when lecturing on ‘Beaker Man in Wales and Wilts 1900 BC’, said: ‘The circle of blue stones at Stonehenge was of stone hewn and carried from the Precelly Mountain in Pembrokeshire, but no factual evidence had been produced as to why Precelly stone had been taken to Wiltshire’… he suggested that it might have been because it was a Holy Mountain.

  Gypsy slit on ears: three notches cut by the gypsies on the ear with a wooden knife to prevent rickets.

  Red Book of Hergest: one of ‘The Four Ancient Books of Wales’ in the library of Jesus College, Oxford, MSS of Ancient Welsh prose and poetry. Many of the authors still remain unknown. The ‘play’ here, is on the scribes who have tampered with the MSS in the thirteenth century, and the poet Iolo Morganwg in particular, who forged numerous parchment poems.

  Pull down the flag: the Welsh flag was torn down by English soldiers who were drafted to a Welsh regiment. East Coast, March 1941.

  Coracle: coracles are still used on the Towy and Teivy. ‘Two men work together and take the river, one rowing and steering with one hand, and holds with his other hand one end of the long net; the other end being grasped by the second coracle man, and together they sweep the river for salmon and sewin.’ They have their own dialect ‘Gwar bach y gored.’ Gored means a weir for taking fish, and is a very early Welsh word, found in one of the poems in the MS ‘Black Book of Carmarthen’, c. 1159. ‘The word coracle is probably derived from the Celtic word Corawg, which signifies ship.’ From ‘Geraldus Cambrensis’, written in 1180: ‘The boats are made of twigs, not oblong nor pointed, but almost round, covered within and without with raw hides. Today they are covered with Calico. The fishermen carry these boats on their shoulders; on which occasion that famous dealer in fables, Bleddercus, who lived a little before our time, thus mysteriously said, “There is amongst us a people who, when they go out in search of prey, carry their horses on their backs to the place of plunder.” Unfortunately they were used three days ago to transport stolen butter across the river.’ This event was printed in the Carmarthen Journal with exclamation marks! See also an article in The Field, January 6th, 1945, by the Author.

  Torque: from Llywarch Hen, sixth century. (Translation H.I. Bell)

  Four and twenty sons were mine,

  Golden-torqued, princes of the host.

  From Aneirin’s sixth-century ‘Gododdin’ (translation Ernest Rhys): ‘A brilliant spirited melody it is ours to sing – to tell how Cynon came, and at his coming the beaks of the grey eagles were sated by his hand. Of all the wearers of the gold torques, who went to Cattraeth, there was not one better than Cynon.’

  From Geraldus Cambrensis: ‘Moreover I must not be silent concerning the Collar (torques) which they call St Canauc’s (AD 492); for it is most like to gold in weight, nature, and colour; it is in four pieces wrought round, joined together artificially, and clefted as it were in the middle, with a dog’s head, the teeth standing upward; it is esteemed by the inhabitants so powerful a relic, that no man dares swear falsely when it is laid upon him.’

  From Sir John Lloyd, MA, D.Litt, FBA Historian: ‘A thick golden chain worn as a necklet by Princes and persons of nobility.’

  In 1692 one of these chains was found near Harlech; it weighed eight ounces and measured four feet in length.

  Semitic wings: not enough is said of the active part Jews took in this war. It is for this reason and no other, that I refer to a plane piloted by Jews.

  Part II

  Praise to Summer

  Thou summer, father of delight,

  With thy dense spray and thickets deep;

  Gemmed monarch, with thy rapturous light,

  Rousing thy subject glens from sleep,

  Proud has thy march of triumph been,

  Thou prophet, prince of forest green…

  The Swan

  Fair swan, the lake you ride

  Like white-robed abbot in your pride;

  Round-foot bird of the drifted snow,

  Like heavenly visitant you show…

  Pure white through the wild waves shown;

  In shirt as bright as crystal stone

  And doublet all of lilies made

  And flowered waistcoat you’re arrayed,

  With jacket wove of the wild white rose;

  And your gown like honeysuckle shows.

  Radiant you all fowls among,

  White-cloaked bird of heaven’s throng.

  DAFYDD AP GWILYM (c. 1325–85)

  Quotation: the first part of the above translation (i.e. ‘Praise to Summer’) is by A.J. Johnes. The second part (i.e. ‘The Swan’) by H. Idris Bell. These I believe to be the best representative translation of each poem. To shew the misinterpretation under which an original poem goes, I will quote the first two lines of Dafydd’s other translators to ‘Praise to Summer’. A.P. Graves:

  Summer, father of fulness,

  Green-tangled, flower-spangled brakes;

  David Bell:

  The father of loud ardency;

  The father of the wildwood canopy;

  W.J. Gruffydd, Ernest Rhys, Nigel Heseltine, George Borrow have also contributed different translations to this poem. A rough and literal translation given to me by Keidrych Rhys would be:

  You the Summer, father of potency,

  Sire of the covered intoxicated tree-tops.

  Myddfai Hills: on the roads from Llandovery over the Carmarthen Vans lies Myddfai and the lake from which the mother of the physicians is supposed to have returned. The physicians not only attended the Royal Prince of Wales in the thirteenth century, but handed down the famous book and talent from father to son ‘for more than two thousand years’ according to legend. ‘How to be Merry, If you would at all times be merry, eat saffron in meat or drink, and you will never be sad. But, beware of eating over much, lest you should die of excessive joy.’ ‘Recipe for Sore Eyes, Take red roses, wild celery vervain, red fennell, maidenhair, house leek, celandine, and wild thyme, wash them clean and macerate in white wine for a day and a night, then distil from a brass pot. The first water you get will be like silver, this will be useful for any affection of the eye and for a stye.’

  Seiriol: two monks that met at the well of Clorach, Llandyfrydog. Cybi had the morning sun in his face as he approached the well, so his face soon darkened; while Seiriol, coming from the other direction, had the sun on his back… and was pale… always. Seiriol Wyn, Seiriol the white, or pale. Cybi Felyn, Cybi the yellow, or sunburnt. Matthew Arnold wrote a poem about these two and mixed up the colours!

  Tin-blower: a sheet of zinc to which is added a handle by the blacksmith. When the fires lose heart the blower is hung up by a piece of wire to narrow and intensify the draught. The rattle and ugliness of the tin is very irritating.

  Ffyn-on-ol-Bri: LCC spring surrounded by barbed wire six hundred yards from the village. The only well that does not dry up; is not discoloured; and contains brown worms. This is the only supply of fresh drinking water for the village.

  Part III

  Consider your ways. Ye have sown much, and bring in little; ye eat, but ye have not enough; ye drink, but ye are not filled with drink; ye clothe you, but there is none warm; and he that earneth wages earneth to put it into a bag of holes.

  Thus saith the Lord of Hosts; Consider your ways.

  THE MESSAGE OF HAGGAI. CHAPTER I

  Defending the Navy: on the Island of South Ronaldsay, 1941, the RA batteries defended the Navy when the Prince of Wales and other battleships lay in home waters. For this defence the RA received a special divisional sign. In spite of this scraps were frequent between the two services so that a distinction had to be made: the army attending the only pub at one hour and the navy at another.

  Swansea raid: F
ebruary 19th, 20th, 21st, 1941, when several members of the N.F.S. of Birmingham said the intensity of the raid was worse than their own Midland tragedy. The severest hardship was: no room for Welsh evacuees. In our village we had accommodated forty-five from east London, so that we were compelled to refuse children whose parents we knew.

  Warden of the Marches: the Norman lords who took Wales piecemeal and divided it up into fretsaw boundaries. Each territory was governed by its own administration and jurisdiction, and controlled by an English King who was a Marcher Lord himself over larger domains.

  Bézique: from the game of cards with two packs, ‘probably from Spanish besico, little kiss, an allusion to the meeting of the Queen and Knave, an important feature in the game’. Table of Bézique scores: Marriage (King and Queen of any suit) declared, 20 points; Royal Marriage (King and Queen of trumps) declared, 40 points; Bézique (Queen of Spades and Knave of Diamonds) declared, 40 points. These are a few examples of the score to show that the arrangement of the cards is based on early everyday life. The symbol came to my mind as a good representative of soldiers longing for their home: and the pattern of soldiers themselves playing with cards at odd snatches of the day.

  Pricket: the candle pricket, sharp metallic point on which candles are stuck.

  Rhizome cat: the reference to a cat is linked with those mentioned at the beginning of Part II: ‘On seafield pools shivering with watercats.’ I used rhizome because it is an underground root just as this wild cat is of an underground root and lives in the undergrowth. I also had an image of a yellow striped cat: and rhizome is used throughout the country for yellow dyes. There is also something about the jungle in the sound and spelling of the word rhizome. Wild cats are still found in Wales.

  Part IV

  The Cry of the Madonna

  The same your patience unfailing,

  The same your cross and your cry,

  Mary, mother of Nazareth

  And Mary of Llanybri

  DYFNALLT

  Quotation: the above translation is from one of Dyfnallt’s poems ‘Cri Madonna’. He is one of our poets and a leading Nonconformist minister. I should like to point out here, that I have intentionally used Welsh quotations as this helps to give the conscious compact and culture of another nation. The village of Llanybri, around which this poem is set, is Welsh speaking. Most of the people, with the exception of the older generation, can also speak English; either better than we can, or with a strange imagery and intonation found in common with all peasants of the soil. I have never heard a Welshman say, ‘Indeed to goodness,’ etc., or any of the jargon which is broadcast or printed as such… and will have more to say on this subject on another occasion.

  Incomputable finance: during this war the Government allowed apes at the Zoo thirty shillings per week for their food, while soldiers’ wives received seventeen shillings and sixpence per week to cover food, rent, clothing, and the security and protection of a child.

  Barddoniaeth: Welsh: poetry, verse.

  Blue crayoned: a line of knotted string covered with miscellaneous notes: ‘For Higgs & Porters try 00 Downing Street.’ – ‘I won’t be more than five minutes John Evans’ – ‘Still carrying on Riggs and Rogues Ltd.’ These, and tragic words interspersed, clipped on with safety-pins, wire, hairpins: or emergency signs chalked up with blue crayons on cracked and broken pavements; and behind this rain-washed line of dripping notes – a cloud of dust – SPACE – and wideways stretch of sheltered rubble.

  Easter Cuts [sic]: huge mathematical heads and shoulders which grate against the fierce storms of the tropics; and puzzle us still whether they stand outside the British Museum or on the bleak plains of Easter Island. A Prismatic Art, each feature cut, alters in expression with the movement of the sun, so that he is grinning under the evening light, may sneer before the rising of the sharp dawn.

  Part V

  I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, Come and see.

  And I looked and beheld a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.

  And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth. To kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.

  And when he had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held.

  And they cried with a loud voice saying, ‘How long O Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth?’

  And white robes were given unto everyone of them.

  REVELATION. CHAPTER VI

  Caribbean Crane: the poet Hart Crane ‘who made a perfect dive’ off the SS Orizaba, and was drowned in the Caribbean on 26th April 1932.

  Catena: born Biagio, c. 1470–1531. A Venetian pupil from Bellini’s Bottega. His painting in the National Gallery, ‘Saint Jerome in his Study’, resembles my own convent upbringing, so that I connect him with the fragrance of beeswax – peace – serene pervading warmth of the southern air.

  Reed collar: used in this village on an occasional horse. The collar is made of woven reeds and has no outer leather cover: the shade is olive-green: neatness and firmness of craftsmanship something which we have carelessly lost. I have also seen one plaited in straw.

  White starling: January 1943, there was a column in the Western Mail by an ornithologist saying that a white starling had been seen flying over Carmarthen. The starling has appeared in Welsh mythology more than once: and was ‘dispatch rider’ for Branwen when it flew and took her message from Ireland to Wales, so that she might be delivered of her unhappiness and hiraeth for Wales.

  Calder: Alexander Calder.

  Gorsefierce: Leguminosae: Ulex and Genista both words of Celtic origin. The gorse is to be found in early Triads and Welsh literature of the sixth century: a favourite flower with King Alfred and the Anglo-Saxons: and worn later as a cognisance by the Plantagenet kings. In the language of flowers gorse symbolizes anger. A resisting spirit throughout the severest weather, when a sheet of piercing yellow covers the hills blossoming in this valley: November, December, January and February.

  Plantagenet King: Lordship of Commote Penrhyn, owned by Edward I, Prince of Wales, during the Hundred Years’ War and which consisted of a pasture and grange surrounding the present villages of Llanybri and Llanstephan: Edward, the Prince of Wales, at the same time also owned a larger portion of the Duchy of Cornwall.

  UNCOLLECTED AND UNPUBLISHED POEMS

  To a Welsh Woman

  In her eyes,

  The warm pool of sorrow

  The wombed look of beasts

  The beaten quiver.

  Hair straighter than a gypsy’s

  Skin cool and light

  Hands crossed… of the soil.

  White strength gathered in corners

  Clenched those hands found bruised threadbare

  Willed through cam burdens held up against her

  And dispatched them to the sun.

  Gentle as stardust and as little known

  She strained to the Future always remote

  Faded the image at too early a date

  Blurred – now pale –

  Lone cymry.

  Published in The Welsh Review, 1, 6, July 1939.

  Song of Praise

  I have seen the finger of God

  Pale whirling with fury

  Pointing the sea.

  I have seen the same biblical finger

  Draw water to columns

  Sterner than He,

  Not pagan-fluted

  Or Rome’s cardinal order

  But vaporous smote hollow

  A supernatural reed.

  I have seen light birds sailing

  A ploughed field in wine

  Whose ribs expose grave treasures

  Inca’s gilt-edged mine,

  Bats’ skins sin-eyed woven

  The long-nosed god of rain

  I have seen these things and known them


  The moth wings to my Light.

  I have seen the mountain of pumas

  Harbour a blue-white horse.

  The tinsel-rain on dog’s coat

  Zebra shoes at night

  Bruised eyes and locusts

  Dull powered air

  I have seen these things now free them

  To Eternity in my Height.

  Published in The Welsh Review, 2, 3, October 1939.

  Poem

  In steel white land far distant near snow shivers out bead sequins glare

  Violent torrents thread-like glass pierce needle air bounce and curse

  Screeching wind full flaying prey distorts the vision sweeps faith away

  Hideous, torturous, ice to Creation, this terror fight self protect hasten

  Or lonely stretched on blue-blade beds the green woad will hover weed out design

  But come stern storm, hail ‘Wuthering Heights’ do what you will. I need fear no more

  For my house is clothed in Scarlet.

  Scarlet my household, Scarlet my mind, spiced herbed and cherished, all alcoves wine

  Laughter in corners, winks on air chasing shadows on ceiling bruins in lair.

  Plush lacquered incense, open flowers on wall, frothed milk bread and honey to overcome falls

  So come myth children, no longer fear, the winter is impotent under my care

  For my house is clothed in Scarlet.

  Published in Wales, 11, 1939/40.

  Englyn

  Where poverty strikes the pavement – there is found

  No cripple like contentment

  Which stultifies all statement

  Of bright thought from the brain’s tent.

  Published in Modern Welsh Poetry (Faber and Faber, 1944).

  Green Madrigal [I]

  Peace, my stranger is a tree

  Growing naturally though all its

  Discomforts, trials and emergencies

  Of growth.

  It is green and resolved

  It breathes with anguish

  Yet it releases peace, peace of mind