When I begin to dream in Welsh......
When words and phrases swirl in my head like those currents the gwylan ( seagull) floats and flies upon.
I am yn gocls ( drunk) with yr iaith.
And then....like a penmawr ( hangover) the week after brings a feeling of being bereft, akin to the nation itself in the words of one of Harri Webb's best ever poems ' Colli'r Iaith' ( losing the language).
It's both privilege and pleasure to attend the Cwrs Haf at the Uni in Trefforest once again and this year's course surpassed all other ones for many reasons.
I now have more 'hyder' ( confidence) and can chat to both the tutors and fellow course-goers. Being 'rhugl' ( fluent) is only a matter of over the bridge, round the corner, up the mountain......
Also, the course had far more variety than previously and nearly every day we had one or more visiting speakers, as well as three tutors over the week, each with their own enthusiasms.
The only baffling aspect of the week was that there were fewer in our class than any of the 9 years I have attended, though the other levels fared much better.
On the first day local historian Alan Cook told us that Pontypridd was named after Pont y ty pridd and not a bridge made of mud and how the well-known Turner painting of the stone bridge featured just the one house, as did all paintings of that time.
It was interesting to find out that Rhydfelen was actually the correct version of Rhydyfelin and that the ford ( rhyd) was almost certainly yellow because of the iron in the water.
He spoke a good deal about pilgrimages to Penrhys and I couldn't help wondering what a modern equivalent would be : Dylan Thomas fans to Laugharne maybe?
We also had a visit from food journalist Lowri Cook ( too many Cooks didn't spoil the cawl!), who explained about the fifth sense of taste or 'umami' , which she defined as the taste of death. Perhaps she had a bad experience in Japan with a blowfish!
Another day an expert honey-maker showed us how to make our own sgwriad ( hand scrub) using various items. Mine consisted of oats, coco oil, frankincense and lots a other dubious potions. If it were ever to be marketed then the brand name would surely be 'Ych y fi '.
It was very interesting to revisit the poem 'Glas' by Bryan Martin Davies, especially as I had once written a response to its ending of 'totalitariaeth glo '.
I'd forgotten just how many times he'd used that colour and others in the poem and how a 'diwrnod glas' is a special day and 'glas' itself can also mean green as in 'glaswellt' ( grass). Though a nostalgic poem, the ending makes you realise just how vital a trip to Swansea was in those days.
The more you learn the less you seem to know.
The more you learn, the more you have to un-learn.
Both were true of the week, as one tutor showed how many Welsh-speakers actually avoided the much-practised versions of 'Yes' and 'No' like Ie/ Nage , Ydw/ Nag ydw ayb.
Through the week important aspects of Welsh history and culture kept emerging ; the unique nature of cerdd dant (or 'string music', as in the harp) and the way in which poetry and music are inextricably linked. I had never realised before that poets composing their verse were described as 'canu'r gerddi' or singing the poem and looking at the form of englynion with its formally structured musicality, I could understand.
For a moment I did think we'd have a go at an englyn and I'd have relished the challenge, but others in the group were more musically inclined and when we looked at the work of poet Waldo Williams related to his poem 'Y Tangneddfeddwyr' ( Peacemakers) which is a superb choral work.
Waldo was certainly a fascinating character : pacifist , Quaker and socialist who went to prison because of his conscientious objection. You could see how his Christian mysticism came from his 'milltir sgwar' ( local area ) of Preseli in Sir Benfro.
An afternoon's Cwiz Mawr was cut-throat ( without a phone-cheat in sight), but one of the highlights of the week was the visit by my ol' butty Sion Tomos Owen, of Red and republican events and magazines.
Sion was launching his book of stories about the Rhondda for learners ' Y Fawr a'r Fach' alluding to the two valleys and also to himself today and when young.
He has become a brilliant presenter on S4C having completed two series of 'Pobol y Rhondda' and also as one of the key presenters on 'Cynefin' , which focuses on various places in Cymru, including Merthyr.
Sion was on top form with hilarious anecdotes and equally funny readings from the book which - though aimed at lefel Sylfaen ( Foundation) - is eminently suitable for higher levels.
It's interesting listening to Sion speak and to look at his writing in Welsh ( I was mostly more familar with his work in English). There's a noticeable influence of 'iaith y gogledd' as his mam comes from the north and , quite possibly, many of his former teachers; he uses 'efo' not 'gyda' and 'gen i' rather than 'gyda fi' for instance.
I find it hard to write in formal language in Welsh, but accents and dialects enthrall me. On the final day we looked at the unique dialect of Caernarfon and how some of the words may well have arrived there from the New York underworld. One of my favourites is 'sglaffio' meaning to gobble up food.
It would be great to go to the Maes ( square ) in that town on a Saturday night and hear all the 'Cofi' ( as that dialect is called). I might, at last, learn to swear properly in Welsh!
If there are any learners out there looking for an entertaining and also challenging week's course then I wholeheartedly recommend this one.......every year in June.
DYSGU CYMRAEG
I have come quite a distance, ware teg,
yet my ready answer how long
is inevitably 'amser maith yn ol',
which is easier to say than numbers
when I must use 'y system ugeiniol'.
I am in dosbarth Uwch 4 Plus
which has been invented for us,
not quite ready for 'Hyfedredd'
where there are folk with degrees in Welsh
who've read ' Un Nos Ola Leuad'.
Sometimes I'm full of 'hyder',
some days I feel almost 'rhugl'
and then get my 'gwaith cartref'
full of green marks and 'gwallau'
( though I do use Welsh in English poems).
I'd like to enter for the 'Gadair'
in the 'Genedlaethol' one year,
but I'm not sure about that spotlight,
sword, dancers and , above all, those outfits :
blame it on that nutter Iolo Morgannwg!
I once had a 'sgrws' with locals
at the Black Boy , Caernarfon over a few pints
and they complimented my fluency
( I think they'd had one too many,
or maybe they were being polite).
I've come a long way with many others,
we're like a band of aging adventurers
landing on the shores of Yr Wladfa.
History ,culture leading to a Now that matters :
this time, this tense meaning 'amser'.
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