RSS

Tag Archives: International Dylan Thomas Day

Special Day, Squirrel and A Poem

Today is Mother’s Day in America and my sister, who lives in Hawaii, posted this photo of our beautiful Mum.

We’ve had another squirrel visit today.

14th May is International Dylan Thomas Day and here are just two verses of one of my favourite poems –

Fern Hill

Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
     The night above the dingle starry,
          Time let me hail and climb
     Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
          Trail with daisies and barley
     Down the rivers of the windfall light.

And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
     In the sun that is young once only,
          Time let me play and be
     Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,
          And the sabbath rang slowly
     In the pebbles of the holy streams.

3 Comments

Posted by mybeautfulthings on May 14, 2023 in America, Beauty, garden, nature, photography, poetry, Postaday 2023, Uncategorized

Tags: International Dylan Thomas Day

Sunset, Dylan Thomas and Earrings

14 May

Last night’s sunset was absolutely gorgeous! The crimson and golden glow crept across our sitting room so we went upstairs to capture the beauty of the setting sun sinking into the sea.

Today is International Dylan Thomas Day. I love the works of Dylan Thomas especially Under Milk Wood which I used to teach to GCSE students many years ago. I was brought up on this version on two long playing records with Richard Burton as the First Voice and here, for your delectation, is that wonderful voice with the inimitable words of Dylan Thomas.

Some time ago, I was offered the chance to have some earrings made, as a gift while in lockdown. The maker was unknown to me but here today, in the infrequent post, came a beautiful little pair of handmade silver and crystal earrings which I shall treasure. They are just 1″ long and very pretty. Thank you very much Karen.

11 Comments

Posted by mybeautfulthings on May 14, 2020 in Beauty, environment, friendship, nature, Photography, poetry, Postaday2020

Tags: 'Under Milk Wood', International Dylan Thomas Day, jewellery making, Richard Burton

Garden Bouquet, Bluebell and Kaja

14 May

I collected some prettiness from our garden to make a small bouquet to take to our Dear friend, Ti. In it there was a branch of Crinodendron Hookerarium, some Clematis Montana, two kinds of Pittosporum, some beautifully scented Choisya Ternata Apple Blossom and a few Spanish Bluebells.

In their developing woodland a few English Bluebells have arrived. What a joy!

Kaja loved walking there with us, almost disappearing in the long grass.

Kaja

As I am just finishing writing this evening, Radio 4 has just told me that it is International Dylan Thomas Day. I love the works of this amazing poet who died far too young. If you put his name into my search bar you will find many posts with his poems. His book, “Deaths and Entrances” was my first introduction to his poems, bought for me when I was about 11 years old.

‘A Refusal to Mourn the Death, by Fire, of a Child in London’ touched me then and still does. It is not as harsh as it sounds. He seems to be asking why one death should be mourned more than another. We are all of equal value.

Never until the mankind making
Bird beast and flower
Fathering and all humbling darkness
Tells with silence the last light breaking 
And the still hour
Is come of the sea tumbling in harness

And I must enter again the round
Zion of the water bead
And the synagogue of the ear of corn
Shall I let pray the shadow of a sound
Or sow my salt seed
In the least valley of sackcloth to mourn

The majesty and burning of the child’s death.
I shall not murder
The mankind of her going with a grave truth
Nor blaspheme down the stations of the breath
With any further 
Elegy of innocence and youth.

Deep with the first dead lies London’s daughter,
Robed in the long friends,
The grains beyond age, the dark veins of her mother,
Secret by the unmourning water
Of the riding Thames.
After the first death, there is no other.