There are places in Wales I don't go:
Reservoirs that are the subconcious
Of a people, troubled far down
With gravestones, chapels, villages even;
The serenity of their expression
Revolts me, it is a pose
For strangers, a watercolour's appeal
To the mass, instead of the poem's
Harsher conditions. There are the hills,
Too; gardens gone under the scum
Of the forests; and the smashed faces
Of the farms with the stone trickle
Of their tears down the hills' side.
Where can I go, then, from the smell
Of decay, from the putrefying of a dead
Nation? I have walked the shore
For an hour and seen the English
Scavenging among the remains
Of our culture, covering the sand
Like the tide and, with the roughness
Of the tide, elbowing our language
Into the grave that we have dug for it.
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Comments
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essay too
From guest Steven Williams (contact)
im doing a redraft of this poem for my c/w, so i came on here because my teacher gave me my c/w to do over half term, but she forgot to give me the poem i also need to find 'time is running out' by Oodgeroo Noonuccal :I -
From guest JO (contact)
My favourite of his poetry, along with Welsh Landscape, and perhaps one of his more accessible. I love the comparison of the reservoirs which drowned villages to provide water to England, with the servility of the culture to union with England. The second verse is extremely powerful, with that bitter and resentful tone. -
essay
From guest danni (contact)
i am doing an essay on this poem and there are parts that i don't understand i am just wondering if i was'nt the only one lol!!!! -
How do i get pictures of your chalk drawings?????
Are they on this web site?




