Cywydd Croeso

A word from Mererid Hopwood on our Cywydd Croeso.

Er mwyn gweld y dudalen hon yn Gymraeg, cliciwch ar y ddolen yng nghornel dde’r dudalen.

 

It is an age old tradition in Wales to compose a cywydd of welcome on important occasions. A cywydd is a poem written in any number of couplets, each following the intricate patterns of ‘Cerdd Dafod’ which is our ancient ‘strict metre code’. According to this code, every syllable chimes in harmony with another syllable in the line, and each pair of lines are joined together by an end rhyme

In this cywydd, the listener is invited to tune into the barely audible music of the wind and the stars and the rain. We find how the oldest melody sings on, gathering in Cardiff Bay from all corners of the world, trickling down River Taf – a cry across horizons.

As it happens, in Welsh we use the verb ‘to hear’ for smells as well as sounds, and so the listener is urged to hear the echoing scents of the fern, the wheat, the dew, the day’s eyes (or ‘daisies’) as these combine in crescendo the yearning of all the voices ever. This is the resident song of our Centre, inviting the listener to hurry and join in.

In Welsh, when somebody is hurrying, we say that they run with their breath in their fist. The poem closes by asking the listeners to decant that breath into the furnace that is our Festival, and in so doing opening their fists. They will find, in return, that they have a song on the palm of their hand.

 

Gŵyl y Llais

Ust, rho glust i eiriau’r glaw,
rho eiliad i gri alaw’r
sêr tlws sy’n sisial swsian
yn y gwynt. Mor hen yw’r gân.

Yna gwranda ar gryndod
y llanw bach lleia’n bod –
di-eiriau ’rioed yw’r dŵr hallt,
tawel, medd rhai, yw’r tywallt –
ond ust, mae’r twrw distaw’n
torri ar draeth, twrw â’i draw’n
dod i’r Bae o bendraw’r byd,
o Daf mae’n codi hefyd,
twrw’n furmur, a’i guro’n
galw iaith mor hen â glo.

Ti’n ei chlywed, tybed, hon
yr alwad o’r gorwelion?

Gad i iaith llygaid y dydd
alw’r gân sy’ mhlu’r gweunydd,
a chlyw mor uchel yw iaith
y rhedyn, ust, clyw rwydwaith
suo’r gân fel sawr gwenith,
eco’n ogleuo fel gwlith.

Lleisiau holl eisiau’r oesoedd
yw’r tonnau glas, blas eu bloedd
sy’n sibrwd, mor frwd, mor frau
trwy wydr glir gwir eu geiriau.

Mae’n dod drwy’r munudau du,
dod â’i haul at hen deulu
ein byd hardd; a thra bo ton
yn rhywle bydd gorwelion
yn neges, a’n cân breswyl
yn d’alw, galw i’n Gŵyl.

Rho wynt dy ddwrn i’n ffwrnais
a chei alaw mewn llaw. Llais.

Mererid Hopwood.

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