There was Dai Puw. He was no good.
They put him in the fields to dock swedes,
And took the knife from him, when he came home
At late evening with a grin
Like the slash of a knife on his face.
There was Llew Puw, and he was no good.
Every evening after the ploughing
With the big tractor he would sit in his chair,
And stare into the tangled fire garden,
Opening his slow lips like a snail.
There was Huw Puw, too. What shall I say?
I have heard him whistling in the hedges
On and on, as though winter
Would never again leave those fields,
And all the trees were deformed.
And lastly there was the girl:
Beauty under some spell of the beast.
Her pale face was the lantern
By which they read in life's dark book
The shrill sentence: God is love.
Submitted by Andrew Mayers
A darkly comic poem.....full of implied menace and violence. The terse, judgemental voice of the narrator and slightly odd sounding names at times give the poem a feel reminiscent of a fairy story or folktale which lightens the tone.The last three lines bring a sense of hope but in a decidedly ambiguous manner ['life's dark book '...'shrill sentence']
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I fear for the world if she lets them down