Dic Jones

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-Dic Jones

-was a farmer from Ceredigion.

-For over 50 years,

-he was one of Wales's foremost poets.

-Dic won the chair

-at the Urdd Eisteddfod five times.

-He went on to be chaired

-at the National Eisteddfod...

-..amid high acclaim

-from the adjudicators.

-His masterful strict-metre odes,

-Y Cynhaeaf and Y Gwanwyn...

-..are about agriculture

-and the life cycle.

-These themes

-were close to his heart.

-He married Jean,

-was father to six children...

-..and loved his role

-as a grandfather.

-He was the first farmer

-to become Archdruid...

-..and received an honorary MA degree

-from the University of Wales.

-Venerable Archdruid.

-During Easter 2009,

-four months before his death...

-..Dic gave a lengthy interview.

-He reflected on his life, poetry

-and the subjects that inspired him.

-It isn't the story of his life...

-..but a commentary on the things

-that were important to him.

-This is Dic Jones

-in his own words.

-Hendre farm,

-near Aberporth in Ceredigion...

-..was Dic's home from childhood.

-Maturally, his story begins there.

-When I was a small child...

-..I remember a blanket

-that had a velvet edge.

-Fiddling with it between my fingers

-was comforting.

-I had to have this piece of cloth.

-For some reason,

-I called it "Y Ffow".

-When I was a boy, I wouldn't

-go anywhere without "Y Ffow".

-It was dragged across the yard

-and taken everywhere...

-..until it was so dirty

-that Mam had to wash it.

-Apparently, I then went missing.

-Everyone was searching for me.

-Farmyards were dangerous places.

-There were ponds and streams nearby.

-Everybody was searching

-for the missing child.

-It was a fine day and "Y Ffow"

-was drying on the washing line.

-That's where they found me,

-fast asleep and clutching "Y Ffow".

-At a young age,

-he took an interest in football.

-He was in good company.

-John Gwilym Jones Parc Nest,

-Aled Jones and Jim.

-We all played for Newcastle Emlyn.

-I recall three future Chief Bards

-playing in one match.

-Jim, John and me.

-When a shot went wide...

-..John came up with the line

-"Is the goal getting smaller?"

-Commentary in cynghanedd.

-He composed strict-metre poetry

-- cynghanedd - in every match.

-The match commentary

-was all in cynghanedd.

-On one occasion,

-I remember him shouting...

-.."Quickly, the boy kicks the ball

-into the net...

-"..after running through a puddle."

-"Finish that englyn!" he challenged.

-I'd been cutting corn in the field

-by the main road.

-My father sent me

-to stack sheaves of corn.

-It was a five-acre field

-and involved a lot of work.

-There was a match that afternoon

-against the Swansea A team.

-Len Allchurch and Johnny King

-were in their team.

-I was selected to play...

-..but I had to stack sheaves

-in this bloody field!

-I went to the field on my bike,

-with my kit in a sack.

-I stacked sheaves until midday...

-..then jumped on the bike

-and rode six miles to Cardigan.

-I changed, played the game

-against Len Allchurch...

-..and came home

-before I was even missed!

-Dic's earliest bardic influence

-was his school friend, Tydfor...

-..who encouraged him to compete

-in YFC contests.

-I wrote three limericks...

-..that went down well

-and got big laughs.

-I started to enjoy the applause,

-so I composed more limericks.

-We took the local newspaper,

-The Tivy-Side.

-The likes of Isfoel and Alun Cilie

-would contribute to it.

-I noticed verses with an odd layout.

-A line, a dash, some words

-and then three more lines.

-I thought I could do that

-because I had spotted the rhymes.

-I knocked off dozens of them

-and showed them to Tegryn Davies.

-He said, "Well, I'm afraid

-that they lack cynghanedd."

-I'd never heard of "cynghanedd"

-but that's how it all started.

-I became friends with

-the Cilie family, especially Alun.

-On a Sunday night,

-I took my verses for him to read.

-I also met T Llew Jones,

-S B Jones and Isfoel.

-Y Cilie had a strong influence

-on southern Ceredigion.

-As the Bible put it,

-"A legion, for we are many."

-Alun was a pure poet.

-He lived all his life near Y Cilie.

-That was his life experience.

-Dic didn't attend university

-and was also a pure poet.

-He was inspired

-by the land, sea and weather.

-Alun was a huge influence on Dic.

-Alun would take me

-to the front room or Siberia.

-It resembled Siberia too,

-but that's where we went.

-He didn't give formal lessons,

-just conversations.

-In these conversations,

-cynghanedd occurred.

-The greatest challenge

-was to spot them.

-He would say, "Hey, Dic,

-are you sick, my son?"

-"Hey, Dic, are you sick, my son?"

-You could hear the alliteration.

-You had to have your wits about you

-and that's how I learnt.

-Later, T Llew Jones joined us.

-I progressed even further

-under his wing.

-That's how it was at Y Cilie.

-There were no formal lessons.

-"Because the poet wept

-about man's plight

-"And laughed about one word

-that has the flair

-"To cut a stroke,

-as song and art unite

-"As painful the burial,

-so joyful is the fair

-"Cilie is Wales

-and Wales is Cilie too

-"Their ebb and flow the same

-the whole world through"

-Alun Cilie said something

-that I'll never forget.

-We had been discussing literature.

-"What's this talk of standards?

-What are these standards?

-"Man is the one

-to set his own standard."

-To paraphrase, the standard

-is what man wants to achieve.

-Competing will raise standards.

-If you aim to be as good

-as your betters, you'll improve.

-On the other hand,

-it can lead to a stereotype.

-You could come first

-in a low-standard competition.

-Sarnicol composed an epitaph

-for a failed poet.

-"His crowns came easily in this

-life - eight or nine, maybe more

-"Should he win one

-on the other side

-"The competition would be poor"

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-I first competed

-in the Urdd Eisteddfod in 1954.

-I think I'd started

-writing cynghanedd.

-I wrote an ode in free verse.

-It was a rhyming ode.

-I was lucky

-because the standard was low.

-Of that there is no doubt.

-When I look back

-at the poem now...

-..it doesn't match the standard

-of the Urdd Eisteddfod today.

-However, I won other competitions...

-..the englyn - a four-line

-strict-metre stanza...

-..a cywydd - a short

-strict-metre ode...

-..and a telyneg - a lyrical poem.

-Tegryn Davies reckoned

-that I deserved the chair...

-..because of my winning cywydd

-and despite my ode in free verse!

-I couldn't see his logic,

-but it encouraged me.

-Dic won four consecutive chairs

-at the Urdd Eisteddfod.

-It was an amazing feat

-for a young poet.

-His odes were unbeatable.

-Nobody could match his skill

-in the Urdd competitions.

-His feat certainly inspired me.

-I remember the Urdd Eisteddfod

-in Caernarfon.

-My father asked Richard Jones...

-..to autograph a copy

-of the award-winning ode.

-He obliged, of course.

-My father brought it home for me,

-aware of my admiration for this man.

-He was a hero of mine

-and it made my day.

-At Aberavon in 1966, Dic Jones

-won the National Eisteddfod chair.

-The name of the bard

-honoured today is...

-..Dic Jones.

-When I realized

-the subject was Harvest...

-..my first thought was to write

-about the traditional harvest...

-..about threshing day

-as I remembered it.

-I felt I should write about it

-before it was erased from memory.

-"A hen comes to the granary stairs

-and trots towards the door

-"Seeking scraps of grain

-from overflowing sacks

-"The dogs, after a frenzied feast,

-still catch the scent of rats"

-That poem has never

-seen the light of day.

-That's all I intended to do.

-From that point, it progressed

-to describe the granary...

-..the corn and the cattle.

-Before I knew it,

-I could see it all coming together.

-When it was finished...

-..I invited T Llew Jones,

-Alun and Jac Alun to the house.

-I told them to sit down

-and I read the poem to Alun.

-"Well, well. Well done," he said.

-"I hear the sound of dibs!"

-Alun was my great uncle.

-When someone asked his opinion

-on a poem...

-..if it was a good one, he'd say

-"I hear the sound of dibs."

-It meant that an award

-was in the offing.

-"Son," he said, "you haven't

-mentioned Thanksgiving."

-I told him

-that I had written something.

-It resembled a hymn

-in the form of a cywydd.

-It made the ode too long

-for the competition.

-"Then discard some of it,"

-he said - so I did!

-I removed about 50 lines

-to make room for the new pieces.

-In those days, the ode

-was restricted to 200 lines.

-Writing certain lines

-gave me a thrill.

-Even now, I can still remember

-some lines coming to me.

-I can tell you within a yard

-where I was when the lines came.

-As I crossed the hedge

-from Parc Y Ffog to the road...

-..I was struck by the words

-wheat and whiten.

-"Whiten the wheat

-to keep us living"

-That's how the ode ended.

-I remember sowing seeds

-on the pasture.

-I was giving thanks

-for the harvest...

-.."forever, above the old home"

-The word "gwehelyth", meaning

-lineage, was stuck in my head.

-For alliteration, I had to mutate

-the word for lineage.

-"Forever, above the old home..."

-I wanted a line

-linking sunshine and lineage.

-"Gwehelyth" is a masculine noun

-in Welsh, so lineage won't work.

-Suddenly,

-a cywydd by Waldo inspired me.

-He had used the word "gwehelyth"

-as a feminine noun.

-The feminine mutation gave me

-the alliteration I desired...

-..so I looked at the line again.

-"Forever, about the old home,

-the sun shines on their lineage"

-I still remember the buzz

-that I felt.

-I can tell you precisely

-where I was standing.

-"While mankind exists,

-so will farming

-"And ancient lineage ever succeeding

-"While winter exists,

-so will harvesting

-"Beasts will live

-while they keep dying

-"Fertility lasting

-"While the sun and dew

-whiten the wheat to keep us living"

-Dic had come close to winning the

-National Eisteddfod chair before.

-The subject was The Harvest.

-It was the ideal subject for Dic.

-The letter arrived.

-I opened it and was in total shock.

-I couldn't believe it.

-Dic was delighted.

-He came in, opened the post

-and banged the table, "Yes!"

-Sian said that I'd hit the table

-so hard, the sugar basin toppled.

-Well, I just couldn't believe it.

-Cynan was the Archdruid at the time

-and he sent a very amiable letter.

-He congratulated me on my victory.

-I was asked to keep it a secret...

-..and to be present in Aberavon

-on the Thursday afternoon.

-In my response to Cynan,

-I wrote this.

-"I will be there

-on Thursday afternoon.

-"That's my answer.

-Bet your shirt on it.

-"My mouth will remain shut

-for all eternity if necessary."

-That was my response to Cynan.

-We three adjudicators

-are of the opinion...

-..that Bryn Coed's

-lucid and excellent ode...

-..has achieved an Eisteddfodic feat

-at Aberavon this year.

-I'll never forget the feeling

-of standing up in the pavilion.

-The pavilion was full.

-The searchlights bounced off

-faces in the audience.

-Everyone turned around

-and there was a sea of faces.

-I felt as if I was standing

-in a field of corn.

-All of this was happening around me.

-It's the best memory

-that I have of the ceremony.

-After this week, one might wonder...

-..whether young men in Ceredigion

-do anything except write poetry!

-Once you win an Eisteddfod chair...

-..you immediately become eligible...

-..to judge baby shows

-or to open dog shows.

-You are viewed as an expert

-in any field.

-Tydfor and I were invited

-to judge a disco dancing contest!

-We'd never seen

-strobe lighting before.

-We opened the door,

-took one look and left!

-That's what happens

-when you become well-known in Wales.

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-I recall a time when I had won

-a few chairs locally, nothing major.

-It was a time when we all went

-to nearby farms...

-..to help out with haymaking

-or the potato harvest.

-I was at Esgair with Wil Yr Esgair.

-We were enjoying our midday snack

-after digging up potatoes.

-Someone shouted, "You did well

-to win the chair in Aberporth."

-I thanked him

-and then Wil turned to me.

-To this day, I can hear him asking,

-"Where does it come from?"

-It is quite odd, isn't it?

-Why are some people gifted?

-It's not a talent,

-but an appreciation of words.

-Where does it come from?

-Personally, I need inspiration...

-..which often comes

-from a set subject.

-However, a pattern of words

-occasionally springs to mind.

-This lyrical pattern of words...

-..leads to further phrases

-and eventually to a concept.

-It's a mechanical process.

-In the early years,

-I knew he composed on his tractor.

-If the tractor was stationary,

-I knew what was happening.

-When Dic was immersed

-in composition...

-..he could and would

-shut the world out.

-When he received a task

-for a poetry contest...

-..he'd be there in body,

-but not in spirit.

-To be honest, in the early years,

-I wouldn't offer my opinion.

-That changed over time.

-I think it's especially true

-of the later years...

-..during his time

-with Talwrn Y Beirdd.

-When he had tasks

-for Talwrn Y Beirdd...

-..they had to be good enough

-to impress Gerallt.

-Dic regarded Gerallt as a god,

-the god of poetry.

-Dic tried every task, despite being

-in a team of experienced poets...

-..but Dic had to try them all.

-Excellent work by Gwilym Fychan.

-Next, Idris Reynolds.

-Are you a cricketer, Idris?

-LAUGHTER

-The popular radio series

-Talwrn Y Beirdd...

-..brought Dic's voice

-into homes all over Wales.

-Dic was an avid competitor

-before joining Gerallt Lloyd Owen...

-..to keep score

-and to pull a few legs!

-Both teams are ready,

-Bro Ddyfi and Crannog.

-"Bro Ddyfi, there's no doubt

-Are the best poets hereabouts.

-"Crannog are more photogenic

-"But there's very little in it!"

-Despite his undisputed talent...

-..modesty often forced him

-to doubt himself.

-When I complete an englyn,

-I am often amazed...

-..that I was lucky enough

-to find that rhyme.

-How can you explain it?

-If not for that key factor,

-the verse would fail.

-It's beyond my mechanical input.

-It's beyond that.

-As Wil Yr Esgair said,

-"Where does it come from?"

-I often ponder that question.

-The contents of any poem depend

-on your mood when you write it.

-The way I feel today,

-I couldn't write humorous verses.

-However, I could compose

-more profound poems.

-As I mentioned,

-it does depend on the mood.

-It may be natural for a young bard

-to write about happier subjects.

-Maybe the young tend to compose

-upbeat verse. I don't know.

-The initial inspiration for my poems

-comes from my community.

-That doesn't mean the message

-isn't appreciated further afield.

-It's said that I won

-my first chair...

-..because I was the last

-of the country poets.

-It may be true.

-It isn't that standards have risen,

-but circumstances have changed.

-If I was 18 now,

-I would be heading for university.

-It wouldn't make me

-any better or worse...

-..but I could no longer

-be regarded as a country poet.

-In truth, a country poet

-lacks definition these days.

-Dic is considered

-the last of our country poets.

-A poet of his own square mile,

-but he was more than that.

-In his work, he expresses

-strong views on world affairs.

-He also had a clear view

-of the nature of poetry.

-It's a skill.

-When a man builds a stone wall...

-..he chooses a stone

-and sets it in place.

-If it isn't suitable,

-he chooses another.

-I choose another word

-if it isn't apt...

-..if it lacks

-the correct consonant or rhyme.

-Skills must be honed.

-This is how I see it.

-99% of the time,

-a skilled person is an artisan.

-For that other 1%, he's an artist.

-I know I'm an artisan,

-but I doubt that I'm an artist.

-In the early 1980s,

-Dic's close friend Tydfor...

-..died in a tractor accident.

-He recorded his loss

-by writing an eulogy.

-"Laughter is a rare thing tonight,

-quite a bit rarer, boy

-"We're filled with the pain of your

-fall and the sting of sudden shock"

-It was a real comfort.

-I hadn't realized

-that he knew Tydfor so well.

-He knew his inner soul.

-He knew him very, very well.

-This is just how he was.

-I see more now and I see

-the real Tydfor in this piece.

-One couplet springs to mind...

-..when I recall

-Tydfor's funeral and his coffin.

-"Summer does not bring the flowers

-on the day that the coffin closes"

-He experienced another great loss...

-..with the death of Esyllt,

-the twin of his son, Trystan.

-She passed away

-aged only three months.

-When the little girl was born,

-I knew she wasn't right.

-I feel ashamed of that to this day.

-I looked at her in the bed

-and I knew she wasn't right.

-I didn't know what it was,

-but something was wrong.

-I felt like...

-..a cow leaving its dead calf

-and walking away.

-I'm so ashamed of that feeling,

-but it's true.

-I knew instinctively.

-The little girl

-had a hole in her heart...

-..she had Down's syndrome...

-..and there were

-a number of other complications.

-She lived for about three months...

-..and then, she passed away.

-I'm ashamed to admit

-and I'm embarrassed to say this...

-..but I feel that Esyllt...

-..did us a favour by dying.

-She would have needed a lot of care.

-We would have had to decide

-whether to bring her home or not.

-By the time she was to have been

-discharged from hospital...

-..she had died.

-She took that decision for me.

-Thoughts such as that

-still make me shudder.

-The undertaker arrived.

-He had a small box,

-no bigger than a shoe box.

-The minister, James Henry Jones,

-met us at the crematorium.

-I have fond memories of James Henry.

-James placed the small coffin

-under my arm.

-After some time,

-we were given the ashes.

-I didn't know what to do with them.

-I gathered the children and

-told them that I had Esyllt's ashes.

-I told them all to take a handful...

-..and scatter it where they wanted.

-That's what we did.

-One went to a flower bed,

-one to a tree, another to a hedge.

-They all remember

-where they scattered Esyllt's ashes.

-"The fun in our jobs is forgotten

-"Our lives are but something

-to get through

-"After summer, winter always comes

-"Why do I keep hoping?

-"Ahead, though I know not where

-"Is a beautiful, glittering cloud

-"Above the mist and the dark sky

-"A piece of the sun,

-yonder somewhere"

-At the time, I was a dairy farmer.

-In the milking parlour,

-there was a pulsator.

-Tick, tock, tick, tock...

-"Over the waves is a pleasant land

-"Where the laments do not linger"

-It was an inspiration,

-working to the rhythm of cynghanedd.

-I was able to express my emotions

-and feelings about my daughter.

-When I finished the poems...

-..I didn't know

-what to do with them.

-Was it right for me

-to publish these poems...

-..and make a literary benefit

-from the death of this little girl?

-Somehow, news of them leaked.

-I'm not sure how.

-Wait, Gerallt Lloyd Owen saw them.

-They are englynion in the main...

-..that show the country poet...

-..and the country poet's function

-at its best.

-He has composed something

-deeply personal...

-..which at the same time

-elevates a country poet's role...

-..to heights reached by very few

-anywhere in the artistic world.

-Let me quote the final

-immortal words.

-"Humanity is measured

-by its ability to weep"

-It's written in Welsh

-and in cynghanedd.

-Only Welsh-speakers

-have encountered this line...

-..but it's so relevant.

-It embodies a truth

-that applies anywhere in the world.

-"Humanity is measured

-by its ability to weep"

-I had many letters

-from various places.

-People were aware

-of what I was saying...

-..and that the poems

-had comforted them.

-I was able to justify what I'd done.

-I believe that...

-Other than parts of certain odes...

-..it's the poem

-that excited me most.

-Not while writing it,

-but after completing it.

-As I mentioned earlier,

-I knew that I'd succeeded there.

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-Competing and winning

-isn't always a bed of roses.

-You can lose

-when you deserve to win...

-..or, more often,

-win when you deserve to lose.

-Aberavon and Cardigan

-mark high and low points.

-At the 1976 National Eisteddfod

-in Cardigan...

-..Dic Jones was a member

-of the literary committee.

-In breach of the rules at the time,

-he competed for the chair.

-Two odes came to the forefront.

-As adjudicators,

-we agree that both odes...

-..are worthy

-of the National Eisteddfod chair.

-As adjudicators,

-we also agree unanimously...

-..that Rhos-y-Gadair...

-..submitted the best poem

-in the competition.

-Thank you.

-Dic Jones was Rhos-y-Gadair.

-However...

-Rhos-y-Gadair has broken

-one of the competition's rules.

-He now acknowledges the fact.

-We must therefore proceed...

-..to chair the other

-worthy competitor, Y Tyst o'r Tir.

-Chief Bard Alan Llwyd

-deserved to take the chair home.

-Dic had seized his chance

-to pay tribute to his bardic tutor.

-Is there peace?

-Is there peace?

-

-Peace!

-Alun Cilie had been appointed

-as an adjudicator.

-If he had presided,

-I wouldn't have competed.

-However, Alun died...

-..and Y Gwanwyn became

-my tribute to him.

-Y Gwanwyn followed on

-from Y Cynhaeaf.

-The idea was to write a poem

-to the months after the harvest.

-As the writing progressed...

-..I could see parallels

-with the ode Y Cynhaeaf.

-The experiences I had encountered

-in writing Y Cynhaeaf returned.

-There were a few thrills

-when verses struck a chord.

-I remember completing one,

-possibly in the same field...

-..where the line about

-sunshine and lineage came to me!

-Here's Y Cynhaeaf.

-"While mankind exists,

-so will farming

-"An ancient lineage ever succeeding

-"While winter exists,

-so will harvesting

-"Beasts will live

-while they keep dying

-"Fertility lasting

-while the sun and dew

-"Whiten the wheat

-to keep us living"

-The new poem

-continued along those lines.

-"While chicks are hatched

-to a cock and hen

-"Faith will not be extinguished

-"A restless man

-will follow the furrow

-"His plough glistening

-among the clay

-"Spring and birth

-will last an eternity

-"And the mountain rains

-will wash the rocks"

-It was a drama, a real drama.

-I broke the rules,

-but not the spirit of the rules.

-Even if I had chosen

-the adjudicators and the subject...

-..the poem still had to be written.

-I wrote the poem.

-That is what matters.

-There are ten years

-between Y Cynhaeaf and Y Gwanwyn...

-..but ultimately, every poet

-focuses on one theme.

-The subjects vary,

-but there is one main theme.

-Dic's theme was the life cycle.

-He refers to the harvest

-in the famous ode.

-"I will go to make

-the life cycle whole

-"To sow as the meadow

-becomes green"

-The life cycle

-is an image of life...

-..as a rotating circle, eternal

-and continually progressing.

-Y Gwanwyn is my favourite

-Welsh poem.

-I know parts of it by heart.

-It has something extra.

-It gives me a buzz, a thrill.

-There's a surge of energy

-that permeates the poem...

-..like a breath of spring air.

-There's a feeling of rejuvenation

-or even rebirth.

-It really is an uplifting concept.

-"While an old family

-harvests its fruits

-"And its lineage's crops

-seed its fields

-"While birds come in pairs

-to the trees

-"While a ram grazes,

-while hooves exist

-"The spring of springs

-"Will open its store of treasures

-through the ages

-"While chicks are hatched

-to a cock and hen

-"Faith will not be extinguished

-"A restless man

-will follow the furrow

-"His plough glistening

-among the clay

-"Spring and birth

-will last an eternity

-"And the mountain rains

-will wash the rocks"

-In 1997, I was at the Eagles Inn

-in Llanuwchllyn...

-..the day after I had been chaired.

-I had won with an ode

-that maybe contradicted Dic's odes.

-It depicts a more cruel aspect

-of agriculture and rural life.

-Dic's odes promote farming,

-celebrating it as a way of life.

-Dic sat beside me,

-leaned over and stared at me.

-He congratulated me and said...

-.."I was right in 1966 and 1976...

-"..but you are right today."

-I suspect that was his way

-of praising me.

-Having said that,

-he wrote a cywydd for me.

-I treasure that cywydd

-as much as anything else.

-The cywydd shows

-that everything has two sides.

-"Spring has two faces

-that no-one can separate

-"They are an eternal dowry

-that arrive much like fate

-"I always see the sunny side.

-Ceri's feat is to see the pain"

-I don't class myself as a bard,

-but maybe a poet.

-I admire the young people

-and their ideas.

-They have a touch of genius.

-I often think

-of Harold Wilson's words.

-I'm one of "yesterday's men" now.

-However, I'm willing

-to be regarded as a poet.

-In my experience, as Isfoel put it,

-words call to each other.

-I string words together...

-.working with sounds,

-alliteration and rhymes.

-My poems stem from words.

-Poets now start with a concept,

-and I respect them enormously.

-I admire them,

-but don't understand their system.

-I understand my system.

-I'll complete the task

-of the Archdruid on his behalf...

-..by announcing that the set subject

-was The Dawn.

-Words were important to Dic.

-He was a renowned adjudicator.

-His polished performances

-while adjudicating were astounding.

-Dic spoke without any notes

-to prompt him.

-This is where he excels.

-"There with his own father

-"One happy morning, the youngster

-goes with his spade to the shore

-"To create with coarse sand"

-He was an avid columnist

-for Golwg magazine...

-..creating poems

-about current affairs.

-In 2008, having passed

-the promised age...

-..Dic yr Hendre was ordained

-as Archdruid.

-I may be lucky

-to have been born...

-..at the end of the era

-of the horse...

-..and the start

-of the era of the tractor.

-It was also the end

-of the country poet tradition.

-I was in the right place

-at the right time.

-To an extent, the same is true

-of the way I was elected Archdruid.

-No farmer had held the post before.

-It's a touch of romance to the lives

-of farmers and Archdruids alike.

-They have progressed

-from being establishment figures.

-An ordinary farmer

-can become Archdruid now!

-The factor that worked in my favour

-when I won my first chair...

-..is still working in my favour.

-At the proclamation ceremony

-of Bala National Eisteddfod...

-..Dic was ordained as Archdruid.

-He considered the role to be

-the greatest honour of his life.

-However, he could only preside

-as Archdruid at one Eisteddfod...

-..as he was struck down

-by a fatal illness.

-He was a man who cherished his home.

-He appreciated all the invitations

-to deliver after dinner speeches.

-He relished bardic contests

-such as Talwrn Y Beirdd.

-Following any event,

-he always returned home.

-He regarded Yr Hendre

-as the place to be.

-He was very proud of his children,

-but he never showed it.

-One of them asked me recently...

-.."Did I do anything

-that made Dad proud of me?"

-I happen to know that Dic was very

-proud of that child's achievements.

-Dic regarded his grandchildren

-as a wondrous gift.

-He saw a future where his legacy

-would continue in these children.

-I hope that a couple of them,

-as they seem to show real promise...

-..will follow in Dic's footsteps

-in terms of writing.

-As a family,

-it meant a great deal to us...

-..that he was able

-to come home to die.

-I don't know if you can say

-such a thing...

-..but I know

-that he was glad to be here.

-"The grave inspires a longing

-in us all

-"For the ability to return

-"Now, art makes that possible

-"A poet whose song

-comes from the soil

-"In our language, your two odes

-are stacks of the finest wheat

-"While we remember you, the door

-to your store of words never closes"

-I still maintain

-that it's a great honour...

-..to be awarded a chair

-at the National Eisteddfod.

-A financial prize

-is always appreciated...

-..just as in any other eisteddfod.

-However, no award can compare...

-..with the satisfaction

-of nailing a poem.

-Success - got it!

-It's the ultimate prize.

-S4C subtitles by Tinopolis

-.