The high point of the year for many Welsh learners like myself is the Cwrs Haf at the University of South Wales (sounds like it's been relocated to Australia!). Each year you meet up with old friends from all over the area, several originally from England.
As the week progresses, the brain switches to Cymraeg and it slowly seems strange to be talking in Saesneg at all.
At Levels Sylfaen (Foundation) and Canolradd (Intermediate) we focused much more on grammar. Now I've progressed to Uwch, the course is very 'catholig' ( eclectic).
We had two tutors and the final day consisted of a series of enjoyable and stimulating events. For a mere £40, it's a 'bargen go iawn' , yet numbers are decreasing and the organisers can't say why.
Our first tutor was poet and lecturer Cyril Jones, a Cardi like myself but with the 'acen' still strong.
He was most enthusiastic and shared his interests as well as rightly insisting on 'siarad, siarad, siarad'.
We listened to an old Can Werin / Folk Song, which everyone disliked, in which a farmer called to his team of oxen and seemed to put all his daily chores before the love of his life Mari.
For obvious reasons, one of the highlights of the whole week came when we read and discussed some poems. One was 'Glas' by Bryan Martin Davies(who I had published when I was editor of 'Poetry Wales') and the other by former National Poet Gwyneth Lewis, called 'Mesur Penrhydd'.
'Glas' is full of imagery and has a strong sense of Dylan Thomas's work about it. It deals with day trips to Swansea from the Valleys in the past - the only holidays most people from there had - and paints an inviting and idyllic picture of the Bay.
I especially liked the phrase 'yn yfed y glesni' which combines the imagery of eating and drinking with the sense of blueness. 'Glas' being not just 'blue' but associated with 'y dyddiau glas' ( the blue days), times of escape and perfection which sometimes seem to exist only in memory.
What makes this poem so different from Dylan is the ending. Here the overwhelming oppression of the coal-mining Valleys is summed up in two clipped lines -
' o ddyfryn du
totalitariaeth glo.'
( from the black valley
of totalitarian coal).
Coal seen as a dictator, dominating every aspect of life, is not a theme Thomas dwelt upon.
I made the comment in our discussion that, in Merthyr at least, we are still living under the shadow of coal in the form of opencast. As one Labour Councillor admitted to me recently (about his own Council), the Council has been bought off by the opencast company and now use their language of 'reclamation' in official magazines and documents.
The second poem, by Lewis, reflects on the nature of her bi-lingualism. She depicts one language as 'yn haul i mi' ( the sun to me) , while the other as 'yn lleuad' ( in the moon).
It is fairly obvious that Welsh is the language of the sun and English of the moon, yet the poem seems curiously old-fashioned now. This is because the second verse suggests that Cymraeg is the language of the countryside, while the third that English is an urban one.
In terms of Lewis's upbringing I can see the logic of this, yet with Welsh in decline in the heartlands yet flourishing in places like Cardiff, we have to think anew.
The next tutor was Colin Williams , who introduced us to that fine singer-songwriter Gwyneth Glyn, thus restoring our faith in Welsh music. It seemed to be National Gwyneth Week as well.
There was plenty of 'sgwrsio' in the morning, followed by a crash course in the 'tafodiaith' (dialect) of 'Y Wenhwyseg' (spoken primarily in the south-east).
It was fascinating, though very challenging, listening to a recording of a man from the Maesteg area and noting the many differences with modern spoken Welsh.
'Gwenhwyseg' is used naturally by English speakers of the older generation, with words like 'didorath' and in the general pronunciation of words such as Rhigos as 'Rhicos'.
Cyril had explained to us that, in Cardi dialect, scrambled eggs are 'wy sang di fang' and this too came from the Gwenhwseg meaning 'messy'. I can't wait to order this in Aberaeron later in the year!
I missed the trip to the Woollen Museum the next day , as I'd been there quite recently. The day trip is always a feature of the Cwrs Haf and I enjoyed last year's which took in the Tafwyl in Cardiff.
Friday was full of variety: a woman from St.Fagan's Museum gave an illuminating talk , then Irish language expert John Evans gave us a crash course in 'Gweddeleg'. I feel qualified to ask for a house number in 'Doire' (Derry) as long as it's digits are between 0 - 10.
Could be useful when I'm on the run!
The afternoon was 'amser ysgafn' ( a light time) with a quiz and sing-song.
I would thoroughly recommend this week-long course to all Welsh learners.
For 'gwaith cartref' (homework) I did a poem instead of the diary entry I was supposed to write.
I'm still the stroppiest of pupils after all these years!
ETO 'TOTALITARIAETH GLO'
‘There’s nothing left after coal’
dywedodd y gohebydd
yn Newyddion Prydain.
Ond, uwchben y dre fi, Merthyr,
eto ‘totalitariaeth glo’
fel llosgfynydd du.
Pob nos a pob dydd
y cerbydau melyn yn symud
yn yr twll fawr, pryfed estron.
Ac eto, lludw yn yr awyr
yn lledaenu fel clefydau,
ysgyfaint adfeiliedig o asma.
Ail-eni Bacon, Guest a Crawshay
gyda’r cwmni sy’n prynu
y Cyngor a newid y geiriau :
nid ‘glo brig’ ond ‘adenill tir’.
Daw un ddyd, daw y ffrwydrad,
llwch yn chwythu dros pob stryd.
STILL ' TOTALITARIAN COAL'
'There's nothing left after coal'
explained the reporter
on the British News.
Yet, high above my town of Merthyr,
still 'totalitarian coal'
like a black volcano.
Every night and day
yellow trucks are moving
in the huge hole, alien insects.
And still, dust in the air
spreads like disease :
the ruined lungs of asthma.
Bacon, Guest and Crawshay reborn
in the firm who has bought
our Council and changed vocabulary :
no more 'opencast', but 'reclamation'.
A day will come, day of explosion,
ashes blowing across our town.
As the week progresses, the brain switches to Cymraeg and it slowly seems strange to be talking in Saesneg at all.
At Levels Sylfaen (Foundation) and Canolradd (Intermediate) we focused much more on grammar. Now I've progressed to Uwch, the course is very 'catholig' ( eclectic).
We had two tutors and the final day consisted of a series of enjoyable and stimulating events. For a mere £40, it's a 'bargen go iawn' , yet numbers are decreasing and the organisers can't say why.
Our first tutor was poet and lecturer Cyril Jones, a Cardi like myself but with the 'acen' still strong.
He was most enthusiastic and shared his interests as well as rightly insisting on 'siarad, siarad, siarad'.
We listened to an old Can Werin / Folk Song, which everyone disliked, in which a farmer called to his team of oxen and seemed to put all his daily chores before the love of his life Mari.
For obvious reasons, one of the highlights of the whole week came when we read and discussed some poems. One was 'Glas' by Bryan Martin Davies(who I had published when I was editor of 'Poetry Wales') and the other by former National Poet Gwyneth Lewis, called 'Mesur Penrhydd'.
'Glas' is full of imagery and has a strong sense of Dylan Thomas's work about it. It deals with day trips to Swansea from the Valleys in the past - the only holidays most people from there had - and paints an inviting and idyllic picture of the Bay.
I especially liked the phrase 'yn yfed y glesni' which combines the imagery of eating and drinking with the sense of blueness. 'Glas' being not just 'blue' but associated with 'y dyddiau glas' ( the blue days), times of escape and perfection which sometimes seem to exist only in memory.
What makes this poem so different from Dylan is the ending. Here the overwhelming oppression of the coal-mining Valleys is summed up in two clipped lines -
' o ddyfryn du
totalitariaeth glo.'
( from the black valley
of totalitarian coal).
Coal seen as a dictator, dominating every aspect of life, is not a theme Thomas dwelt upon.
I made the comment in our discussion that, in Merthyr at least, we are still living under the shadow of coal in the form of opencast. As one Labour Councillor admitted to me recently (about his own Council), the Council has been bought off by the opencast company and now use their language of 'reclamation' in official magazines and documents.
The second poem, by Lewis, reflects on the nature of her bi-lingualism. She depicts one language as 'yn haul i mi' ( the sun to me) , while the other as 'yn lleuad' ( in the moon).
It is fairly obvious that Welsh is the language of the sun and English of the moon, yet the poem seems curiously old-fashioned now. This is because the second verse suggests that Cymraeg is the language of the countryside, while the third that English is an urban one.
In terms of Lewis's upbringing I can see the logic of this, yet with Welsh in decline in the heartlands yet flourishing in places like Cardiff, we have to think anew.
The next tutor was Colin Williams , who introduced us to that fine singer-songwriter Gwyneth Glyn, thus restoring our faith in Welsh music. It seemed to be National Gwyneth Week as well.
There was plenty of 'sgwrsio' in the morning, followed by a crash course in the 'tafodiaith' (dialect) of 'Y Wenhwyseg' (spoken primarily in the south-east).
It was fascinating, though very challenging, listening to a recording of a man from the Maesteg area and noting the many differences with modern spoken Welsh.
'Gwenhwyseg' is used naturally by English speakers of the older generation, with words like 'didorath' and in the general pronunciation of words such as Rhigos as 'Rhicos'.
Cyril had explained to us that, in Cardi dialect, scrambled eggs are 'wy sang di fang' and this too came from the Gwenhwseg meaning 'messy'. I can't wait to order this in Aberaeron later in the year!
I missed the trip to the Woollen Museum the next day , as I'd been there quite recently. The day trip is always a feature of the Cwrs Haf and I enjoyed last year's which took in the Tafwyl in Cardiff.
Friday was full of variety: a woman from St.Fagan's Museum gave an illuminating talk , then Irish language expert John Evans gave us a crash course in 'Gweddeleg'. I feel qualified to ask for a house number in 'Doire' (Derry) as long as it's digits are between 0 - 10.
Could be useful when I'm on the run!
The afternoon was 'amser ysgafn' ( a light time) with a quiz and sing-song.
I would thoroughly recommend this week-long course to all Welsh learners.
For 'gwaith cartref' (homework) I did a poem instead of the diary entry I was supposed to write.
I'm still the stroppiest of pupils after all these years!
ETO 'TOTALITARIAETH GLO'
‘There’s nothing left after coal’
dywedodd y gohebydd
yn Newyddion Prydain.
Ond, uwchben y dre fi, Merthyr,
eto ‘totalitariaeth glo’
fel llosgfynydd du.
Pob nos a pob dydd
y cerbydau melyn yn symud
yn yr twll fawr, pryfed estron.
Ac eto, lludw yn yr awyr
yn lledaenu fel clefydau,
ysgyfaint adfeiliedig o asma.
Ail-eni Bacon, Guest a Crawshay
gyda’r cwmni sy’n prynu
y Cyngor a newid y geiriau :
nid ‘glo brig’ ond ‘adenill tir’.
Daw un ddyd, daw y ffrwydrad,
llwch yn chwythu dros pob stryd.
STILL ' TOTALITARIAN COAL'
'There's nothing left after coal'
explained the reporter
on the British News.
Yet, high above my town of Merthyr,
still 'totalitarian coal'
like a black volcano.
Every night and day
yellow trucks are moving
in the huge hole, alien insects.
And still, dust in the air
spreads like disease :
the ruined lungs of asthma.
Bacon, Guest and Crawshay reborn
in the firm who has bought
our Council and changed vocabulary :
no more 'opencast', but 'reclamation'.
A day will come, day of explosion,
ashes blowing across our town.
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