Cylchgronau Cymru

WALES No. 1. Wartime Broadsheet. Edited by Keidrych Rhys. Silver Jubilee LL. WYN GRIFFITH Beware, Wass Davies ABERPENNAR Wartime Mind-Hammer MARGARET RicHARDS (Affection drugs fear) Dartington Hall SILVER JUBILEE FAINT now in the evening pallor answering nothing but old cries, a troop of men shouldering their way with a new tune I recognise as something near to Flanders, but far from the dragon years we killed to no purpose, scattered seed on land none but the devil tilled. That a poet sings as his heart beats is no new word, but an ancient tale. Grey shadows on the pavement and Europe sick of its own bale. I have no answer, no rising song to the young in years who are old with our arrogance, our failure. Let it be silence the world is cold. BEWARE, WASS BEWARE, wass. A bristle-tongued generation would The kingdom that is within you [reduce To a dull albeit fierce protest, a bloodshot negative. Should we not do more than maunder Why a God's name is it of more moment to us To strive for peace than to fulfil life, To bite the nails for justice than to bow the knees for love, To secure the bare permissive conditions Of what is godlike than to be, a brief splendour, as gods?" Must we stiffen at last, our backs urged against the Thing ? DAVIES ABERPENNAR. POEM NOT busting now before the fish away I would not make such murders of my teens. I made no purpose of the first of May. Crash is a doth but poisons are all greens. The lovely grass is brown is dry is grey The useful sheep feed safely on that shade Yet rushing on the green one if soon stabbed May then go munching on unburst Nor ask a policy to heal a smell. The great and good more murderously scabbed, No dugout on whose lawns could spoil no game, Cosy in bath-chairs and not known to shame, (G.P. came late) looked wiser than we stayed. Their long experience who all were first Would disadvise you to say Now is Hell Knowing worst not known while we can still say Worst. William EMPSON. HOW YOU CAN HELP 'THE WELSH RENAISSANCE' Write for a bundle to sell every month at Id. a copy. Send as large a donation as you can spare. Buttonhole all your friends and ask them to subscribe or buy copies from bookshops, stores, and newsagents. Support those magazines, Life and letters Today, Horizon, Heddiw, Seven, Now, New Directions, etc., which are giving our young fighting writers a platform. Whatever your job send us your next poem I But remember PAPER is scarce; STAMPS come hard. Published by LYNETTE ROBERTS, Ty Gwyn, Llanybri, Carmarthenshire. Printed and Distributed by: The WELSH OUTLOOK PRESS, Newtown, Montgomeryshire. ALL PROFITS GO TO THE RED CROSS: WE ARE CALLING ON YOU TO HELP TO-DAY CONTENTS Poem WILLIAM EMPSON Biography Proem (Ystradowen) GLYN JONES In the Dark D. Kighley Baxendall Amgueddfa Genedlaetbol LL. WYN GRIFFITH. Dartington Hall. THROUGH the brightness of that inn-sign scene and sun, his bored Eventful body, beleagured in angel-smell and flame of its Paradisal defender, passed like a sundering leprosy. Pretty Europe was a map then, hung in her remote Basket of rivers that a long-winged bird might reach in time, Her suffering a spurious tale-his angel-sheltered heart Alone on earth the honey-hole of sorrow's visitation. GLYN JONES. IN the dark horses can waltz like guinea-pigs and the lion love the mongoose without the tiresome necessity of becoming a pekinese In the dark hills open their mouths and yawn and should they (if you'll forgive my using the word) belch they belch flames of incredible beauty I don't think Mr. Pound ever saw the dark and I'm sure Mr. Eliot didn't but M. Breton has held our hand and taken us to the edge and pushed us in Amgueddfa Genedlaetbol. WAR-TIME MIND-HAMMER, 1939 (Affection drugs fear) RATTLE and bleed the wardrobe; Guard all the whistling windows Prop up the thick encounter With a sunshade. Cancelling out the compass, Counter-attack the pole-star; Deaden the air-raid warning Into a mousehole. Stifle the hot-stuff party Coddle the warm delusions Jettison floating terrors Into affection. Black-out the mind and enter; Scuttle the whole-head darkness Fondle the fevered mind-slip Into creation. MARGARET Richards. BIOGRAPHY: PROEM Ystradowen IN THE DARK D. Kighley BAXENDALL.