New Hedd Wyn book

The new hardback edition of Hedd Wyn's poetry, including some that have not been published before, is now here. The launch will be on St David's Day, March 1st in Trawsfynydd Village Hall from 1pm - 5.30. There will be an open mic session for anyone to sing or read in either Welsh or English. Entry is free and Trawsfynydd is just off the A470.

This is my poem about Hedd Wyn's story.

THE BLACK CHAIR

The hills of Wales are green and gold,

But the men who once walked there

Now wade through trenches in the mud

Of foreign fields where death

Stalks indiscriminate and cold.

These are fields but there will be no grain,

No harvest here but bones and flesh

As the blood mingles with the rain.

In Wales the yellow native poppy

Spangles hedgerows, unaware

Of how on Pilken Ridge the evil thud

Of shells breaks the loveliness

Of Flanders poppies, red as blood,

Crimson petals falling in the mud

With broken, dying men in awful pain,

Poppy petals mingling with their blood

And the blood mingling with the rain

Orders come from somewhere else;

Men who hold no hate for fellow men

Are herded like uncomprehending flocks

To keep a grisly rendezvous with death

Far from their native fields and fells.

Poets plead their pity and their pain,

The pen crawls on, and a slow silver vein

Of poetry seeps through Flanders mud

And flows with the blood and with the rain

Quiet and cold Arianrhod shines,

Silvering the slates of distant Wales.

But her poet is a soldier now,

Gone with the men who marched away

To a world of weary plodding boots,

bayonets and all that war entails.

Half the youth of Europe slain

In an incomprehensible war,

Where blood mingles, wasted, with the rain.

Far from the fear, the lice, the groans,

Men too old for war have read the words

Of those who face their Armageddon

In those distant, hellish zones.

And, ‘Is there peace?’ the bard intones,

Ceremonial sword raised above

The black chair under the black cloth.

The poet now is past his pain;

Black crows fly over Flanders fields

And the blood mingles with the rain.

Hedd Wyn is in print.

At last the book is a real solid hardback and not a vague dream in my head. I had a lot of help from other people including David Gardiner who, miraculously, managed all the formatting for the printers. The painting on the cover is mine but not the technicalities.

Hedd Wyn

At last all the editing is done, thanks to several people cleverer or more fluent than me helping out. The files are now uploaded to the printers and the book will soon be available for sale.

Merilang Press is publishing another book by David Gardiner, a novel this time Engineering Paradise http://www.merilang.co.uk/shop/books/david.htm. We are having a launch for that together with Andrew's book in London in November. Everyone is welcome to an evening at The Camden Head, Camden with live music and readings of both books.


On top of that I have been carefully editing and formating all Hedd Wyn's poems and adding some more given to me by my neighbour who is his nephew. I'm really excited by the project but worn out with concentration. It's now practically ready for final formating as a local bard who is an expert on Hedd Wyn has written me a forward and Gerallt [neighbour] came today with yet another unpublished poem.

Hedd Wyn

Merilang Press is about to publish a collection of all known poems of Hedd Wyn, Ellis Evans, of Yr Ysgwrn in Trawsfynydd. He is famous as the Bardd y Gadair Ddu because he was killed in 1917 just a few weeks before his poem won the chair at the National Eiteddfod.
This project has been a lot of work as, not being a native speaker, I had to enlist the help of a friend to proof read the poems and then incorporate all her corrections into the formatted version. Fortunately my friend is not only a native speaker but also actually likes proof-reading.
A strange thing occured yesterday. I had been busy with other matters and then returned to computer to add the final pictures to the Hedd Wyn file and turned on the radio as I sat down. There was a poetry programme with poets reading their choice of poems by dead authors. One reader had just finished as I started to fix my file and the next poet announced, 'I am going to read a poem by Hedd Wyn.' And proceded to read Y Blotyn Du {The Black Spot] first in Welsh and then in translation. One really would not expect to hear on radio 4 at any time about a poet who wrote only in Welsh but for it to come on air just as I was putting finshing touches to his book is downright weird. Talk about coincidence!

Latest news

Firstly Andrew McIntyre's book is doing well in the USA. You can check it out on my site http://www.merilang.co.uk/shop and click his name.

I have been lying low as I had much trouble from arthritic knees and also was snowed in for a lot of the winter. However, having now received, courtest NHS, a lovely knew knee joint, I am getting busy again. To follow up please see the site above.
Daffni