T. Llew Jones Gwlad Beirdd

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-Have you been to Cwm Alltcafan

-Where the summer lingers long?

-Where dog violets are cuckoo blue?

-Have you never? Not at all?

-Have you not seen the River Teifi

-Meander slowly through the vale?

-Never seen the furze in blossom

-Like a carpet on the hill?

-Have I been to Switzerland?

-No, not once, nor to Italy.

-But I've been to Cwm Alltcafan

-In high summer many times.

-Have I seen Killarney's lakes

-In Ireland fair? Not I.

-While so many wish to travel

-Staying home just suits me fine.

-Go to Switzerland and Italy

-Or to Ireland if you will

-Go to Scotland, where I'm told

-The views are a wonder to behold

-But for me it's Cwm Alltcafan

-When the summer's at its best

-That's the very finest landscape

-You are welcome to the rest.

-Have you not seen Cwm Alltcafan

-With its trees and river deep?

-Go! Go soon to Cwm Alltcafan

-Don't delay

-Just in case!

-Do you know what? T Llew was right.

-Some go to faraway lands on holiday.

-But with Cwm Alltcafan

-on your doorstep...

-..there's no better place.

-Yes, and age isn't important.

-That's why Cwm Alltcafan

-is such a special poem.

-It addresses young and old alike.

-Some people think of T Llew Jones

-as being only a children's author.

-We'd lose out so much, however...

-..were we to forget

-that he was a major poet.

-What is Hope? The knowledge

-That beyond fault, there is good.

-In these walls hear

-the rhythm and the rhyme

-A story and tale in each slate

-Llew's home, the cradle of song

-The house where the muse lives on.

-Bwlch Melyn, Pentrecwrt,

-was the birthplace of T Llew Jones.

-When his father returned from

-the war, he didn't recognize him.

-The area and its people

-must have influenced him.

-One memory in particular stood out.

-He went with the older children...

-..as a reward,

-to hear the headmaster tell a story.

-He wasn't allowed to go

-the following week.

-He never found out

-how the story ended.

-But it awakened in him

-a love of storytelling.

-He had a big personality,

-as everyone who met him will know.

-He was a master storyteller.

-When I'd call on him

-in Pontgarreg...

-..I could spend hours

-listening to all his tales.

-I'd say a few words,

-but the stage was his.

-Children were fascinated by him.

-He understood children well.

-I was 20 years old

-when I first met T Llew Jones.

-My heart was beating like a drum.

-It was like meeting

-a star of the screen.

-But I met this most genial man,

-with very mischievous blue eyes.

-He said something quite significant

-to me at our first meeting.

-"I have a child within me,

-who's like Peter Pan.

-"He refuses to grow up or grow old."

-He experienced army life

-in distant places...

-..such as Egypt

-and the Cape of Good Hope.

-Eventually, he became a teacher

-and taught at various schools.

-He was headmaster

-of Tregroes and Coedybryn schools.

-Children were very dear to him.

-He had one immensely sad experience.

-One of his pupils died suddenly.

-He wrote a poem for Dilys.

-It finishes with a poignant line.

-"Goodnight, my silent Dilys."

-She will stay forever young

-Full in face, and full of fun

-Ever fond in our memories

-Goodnight, my silent Dilys.

-It's heartfelt and simple.

-Both that simplicity and sincerity

-are always there in his poems.

-We would both cycle to school.

-We would descend a steep hill...

-..and ride through the valley

-to Tregroes school.

-I had his company on the way down.

-I think this is one

-of the loveliest poems he wrote.

-It's a poem about a birch tree

-in the valley near Tregroes.

-Down in Cwm Cerdin

-One fine, bright morn

-March became April

-With lambs on the hill

-I never saw a tree

-- nor ever will, I'm sure

-As lively, as alert,

-As fair its blossom

-As that little birch

-on the water's edge.

-That poem says everything about him.

-He had an ability to conjure up

-poems that appeal to the ear.

-In his lyrical poems, the sound

-of the words is enchanting.

-That's true of all his poems.

-He was a master of words.

-He was a born competitor,

-and often recounted a story.

-His englyn won

-at the National Eisteddfod.

-It was the best of 347 efforts.

-I believe the number increased

-each time the tale was told.

-Be that as it may...

-..the subject was the weather vane.

-He was inspired by the weather vane

-on Llangynllo church.

-A sentry in trouble on high

-Swivelling his backside...

-A good line -

-it's his backside that rotates!

-Swivelling his backside

-in the tempest

-On the highway of the swirling wind

-A crossroads policeman in a gale.

-It's said that someone,

-after the Eisteddfod...

-..made disparaging comments

-about the englyn in the press.

-A chap called Morris,

-from London, wrote to Y Faner.

-"When the poet composed this,

-he was clearly afflicted by wind."

-The jibes of Windbag Morris

-from London didn't upset T Llew.

-Three weeks later,

-the BBC telephoned him.

-They wished to send someone

-to film the famous cockerel.

-A fortnight later,

-there was a knock on the door.

-He was a stranger,

-wearing thick spectacles.

-He said in the doorway,

-"Where's this bird?"

-For a moment,

-I thought he was after my wife!

-In fact, he had come to film

-the weather vane on the spire.

-T Llew and the cameraman

-came to the church for a viewing.

-It was a cold autumn day.

-The sky was bright towards the west.

-He said to me, "What did you say

-about it in your poem?"

-"I compared it to a policeman...

-"..standing on the crossroads

-of the winds."

-His eyes opened wide.

-He stared at me open-mouthed.

-He said this to me,

-"What wonderful imagery."

-That's the only praise

-I had for my englyn.

-From an Englishman! An Englishman!

-A good comic

-can poke fun at himself.

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-T Llew Jones was well-known

-as a novelist and children's poet.

-But he met with considerable success

-as a poet for adults too.

-He won the Chair in 1958

-for his ode to Caerleon.

-He repeated his success in 1959

-with his ode to the climber.

-He and Dewi Emrys

-remain the only poets...

-..to have won the Chair

-in consecutive years.

-I believe that my father's main

-attribute was his great creativity.

-He was always churning out ideas.

-He had to be working on something,

-be it a poem or a novel.

-He'd prepare lectures too.

-He'd compose cynghanedd

-for Talwrn y Beirdd.

-In my view, creative people

-are often slaves to their muse.

-They have to obey their muse.

-He spent much of his time

-in the study.

-Perhaps, in his case,

-it isolated him from his family.

-That's not entirely true maybe.

-He was a family man,

-and very warm towards us.

-To a degree, however,

-he had to obey the muse.

-It was extremely important.

-The ode to Caerleon

-is a masterpiece.

-In it, he describes a young man

-being attracted by a Roman fortress.

-An old man urges him to adhere

-to the ancient Welsh way of life.

-The tension escalates

-between the military east...

-..and the peace-loving west,

-the Welsh heartland.

-People may not be rich

-in a material sense...

-..but at least they can

-hold their heads high.

-Escape from deceit

-to the heather's refuge

-To tranquil woods, and you may

-Cast your seed in freedom's vale.

-We should battle

-for our Welsh communities.

-People from these areas

-should maintain the fight.

-They shouldn't be blinded

-by bright lights.

-They should ignore things

-that aren't part of our tradition.

-That poem obviously

-influenced my father...

-..and me as a person,

-and our whole family.

-An old man stares, all alone

-Sees beside the woodland there

-Rich ploughed earth and harrowed

-Clovered like a picture fair.

-He sees houses in the meadows

-Many gardens, manors too

-From afar he sees the waves

-Made by the wind in the grasses.

-Nurtured by the good rich earth

-Under the warm sun, the corn danced.

-A peaceful, healthy country

-Safe, secure, reassuring.

-Below, he sees a fortress

-The fine work of foemen's hands

-Well built and well proportioned

-With tall turrets on each wall.

-Westward, there lies

-a land of prickly gorse

-A poor peatland

-that the rich do not want

-But there lies

-the freedom of unbroken hills

-A land that reviles

-the fickle's treason.

-It is poor,

-but no serfs are found

-On its terrain,

-nor guilty flatterers.

-The brightness of the unsung stars

-Gives lustre to Caerleon

-The land is mute 'neath full moon

-The Usk is mute 'neath a shroud.

-The young man sees from cover

-The lights of the splendid fort.

-They shine bright as though weaving

-A night-time full of lanterns.

-The old man, after a late nap,

-With dim eyes from his far tree

-Sees his feet's furrow of death

-Traced plain through meadow frost.

-Because T Llew composed

-clear, simple poetry...

-..poetry that was so accessible...

-..he was no fan

-of obscure, dark poems.

-This became obvious,

-in a very public fashion...

-..with the publication of Cerddi 79.

-He said in his editor's preface

-that dark poems were excluded.

-Poets writing such works

-didn't know what they wanted to say.

-They had an unclear vision.

-Given that he himself

-didn't write such poems...

-..how could he understand them,

-and, in turn, the readers?

-A major quarrel ensued.

-Arguments raged

-in the press and elsewhere.

-T Llew said, "I'm the editor",

-and that was that.

-He was a man who loved a joke.

-He was full of humour.

-This would come to the fore

-in his conversation.

-He liked to laugh, and to hear

-others laugh at his tales.

-A breathless old lady runs into

-the ironmongers shop in Llandysul.

-"Hurry, I want a mousetrap.

-I have to catch a Crosville bus."

-He was a storyteller par excellence.

-He had the gift of making

-people laugh and feel good.

-You know, I've told that story

-in many places.

-Nobody laughed,

-so thank you, thank you.

-Even when old age overtook him...

-..I heard him speak

-at the Eisteddfod.

-He could still thrill his audience.

-They were like putty in his hands.

-He really was a true storyteller.

-He had mastered the art.

-Competitors pay a fee - how silly!

-Ceredigion poets

-don't compete nowadays!

-He was also skilful

-in the fields of chess and cricket.

-Like his son, Iolo, he was

-an international-level chess player.

-He even managed

-the Wales ladies team at one time.

-Only T Llew

-could have landed that honour.

-The Pentrecwrt cricket pitch

-used to be in Cwm Alltcafan.

-There was one problem, however.

-The team had to share the field

-with cows.

-The cows would leave dung

-on the wicket.

-The fielders would have to dive

-into the cowpats.

-Such was the unfortunate lot

-of the Pentrecwrt cricket team.

-But the comic and serious sides

-exist together.

-In his poem Meddyliau,

-he recalls his fellow cricketers.

-He asks what use it is...

-..to be captain

-of a ship without a crew?

-He explains that one

-has to accept the inevitable fact.

-The innings has closed

-and the batting is over.

-And the batting is over.

-One feature in many of his poems

-is fear.

-A fear of the night.

-A fear of a strange noise.

-A fear of things, a fear of people.

-In general too, a fear of death.

-A sort of shadow

-hangs over his work regularly.

-He had a serious side

-to his character.

-Perhaps people aren't aware of that.

-It's seen in poems like Tir Na Nog.

-He could be profound

-and at times he'd feel quite low.

-This is evident

-in some of his poems.

-I too will soon be locked

-In that great strangeness.

-He would puzzle occasionally

-about the end of life.

-One poem in particular

-encapsulates those thoughts.

-It's a poem so evocative

-of T Llew from its very start.

-He tells us about Pont-dwr-bach.

-It was a bridge between his house

-and his grandmother's at Pentrecwrt.

-As a child, he looked forward

-to crossing this bridge.

-He'd be spoilt by Nain, no doubt.

-As he ages, reaching

-the far end of the bridge...

-..starts to mean something more

-than a trip from home to home.

-But he looks forward to it,

-all the same.

-Do you know of Pont-dwr-bach?

-You don't, I'd bet a pound!

-As a child I ran across it

-Many times - and back around.

-Since I crossed it

-for the first time

-From my Mam's house to my Nain's

-Many years have fast gone by

-Lost among life's shifting sands.

-Lots of water has flowed beneath it

-Whispering as it seeks the sea

-Many feet have walked across it

-Since my childhood days so free.

-Past the bridge, a land enchanted

-Apples that were always sweet

-Through the chimney

-of Nain's cottage

-I'd count the stars,

-which was some feat!

-When at last my time is up

-To leave the living,

-and say goodbye

-I should like to go to heaven

-'Cross the bridge at Pont-dwr-bach.

-It's a typical T Llew poem.

-It's clearly expressed,

-with a profound message.

-It speaks to the heart.

-When you write,

-I think it comes from two places.

-It can come from here...

-..and from here,

-and it comes best from here.

-For me, his chief contribution

-was his children's poetry.

-His poems are so sweet

-to the ear, and so memorable.

-Children will always remember them.

-I hope that schools

-will continue to teach them.

-That was perhaps

-his principal contribution.

-But his poetry for adults,

-if you like, also prevails.

-I think the children's poetry

-will be here forever...

-..and so will the poetry for adults.

-And thus began their dancing

-Oh! A pretty dance once more

-And I heard some shuffling feet

-On locking and bolting the door.

-But when I awoke this morning

-The pipes of the wind were mute

-The dancers in their colours fair

-Lay dead upon the street.

-S4C Subtitles by Adnod Cyf.

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