In the World of Waldo Williams
Here is the world entire.
One day, brotherhood will unite the families of Earth
One day, the small will stand tall.
And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of nations.
Some beautiful poetry from Waldo Williams, and some recollections from my time walking in the footsteps of the great Welsh poet of the Preseli mountains.
'Waldo Goronwy Williams is regarded as a mythical figure. No one who knew him bore a grudge towards him. Whoever spent time in his company would embrace him and treasure every meeting. Young children were always fond of him when he taught them.'
"Wall of my boyhood, Moel Drigarn, Carn Gyfrwy, Tal Mynydd, In my mind’s independence ever at my back"
Waldo Williams begins his poem Cofio with these lines:
“One fleeting moment as the sun is setting, One gentle moment as the night falls fast, To bring to mind the things that are forgotten, Now scattered in the dust of ages past.”
Waldo claimed that the poem ‘came to him’ as the sun set as he was working on the farm of his great friend, Willie Jenkins, at Hoplas, Rhoscrowther, near Pembroke. I’ve seen 'one fleeting moment' translated as 'one fleeting minute.' The meaning is clear enough, and is beyond the measurement of clock time. Waldo is extolling eternal and everlasting virtues, evoking the truths of ages lost in time, pointing to the true place of man within creation.
Yr Eiliad returns to the fleeting moment, a much smaller unity than measured time – that instant when the world stands still and we have the privilege of seeing and experiencing things as they ‘really’ are. Waldo is a realist of a reality greater than that which can be named and framed. In these lines, Waldo sets our brief lives in time in the context of eternity.
Yr Eiliad There is no talk of the moment in any scholar’s book The river’s flow ceases and the rock shouts That it’s a witness to things not seen by the eye Nor heard by ear A breeze between breezes Sun from beyond the sun The wonder of our true haunts Not twisted, nor eroded Filling the world We know since the moment comes That we are born for the Hour."
Walk in Waldo's world. Take the time to just stand or sit, look around, express awe and wonder at the world, absorb and be absorbed in all the senses, and experience eternity in an Hour. “We know since the moment comes, That we are born for the Hour.” (Waldo Williams, Yr Eiliad). Here, in the Preseli hills, Waldo saw a community of kinship and kindness between all people and all things, and he saw that such a realization on our part would put an end to war between humans in society and between humans and Earth and its non-human beings and bodies. That communal feeling testifies to the existence of something within us that unites each and all, the realization of which is part of our purpose in living. “One day, brotherhood will unite the families of Earth.” “Daw bore ni wel ond brawdoliaeth yn casglu teuluoedd y llawr.” I'm with Waldo.
In Waldo's world.
It's wild and rugged up here - and very beautiful. Waldo wrote of being "wedded to wind and rain and mist". Of course, this is where he was raised and lived, in the Preseli mountains.
The words of Waldo Williams draw us in through this promise of peace. He strikes a chord deep within.
“Above the snow, the sky is red All of Swansea is ablaze I walk home in the night." Waldo saw war and exploitation, and he took a stand against them. “I felt now that we were living by killing and devouring. It was endemic within us, and a poison to us all.” His words express the need for peace, peace with and between ourselves, and peace with the whole world. He believes the world to be inherently good, and people to be inherently good. We flourish when we help one other. And we flourish when we work with, and not against, the Earth. It is this kindness and love within the community of life that will ultimately prevail. Because it speaks of a goodness that will endure the poison of power and material riches and the corruption they bring.
“Daw dydd y bydd mawr y rhai bychain. Daw dydd ni bydd mwy y rhai mawr. “The day will come when the small will stand tall.” The day is coming when the top ones will no longer be.” Daw bore ni wel ond brawdoliaethYn casglu teuluoedd y llawr."
“One day, brotherhood will unite the families of Earth.” Waldo Williams
On the west side of the village is The Waldo Memorial, commemorating Waldo (Goronwy) Williams, one of the leading Welsh language poets of the twentieth century. He was also a notable Christian pacifist, anti-war campaigner and Welsh nationalist. ‘Waldo’s visionary communitarianism was an amalgam of many different sources, including his radical Nonconformist background, his family involvement in the early Socialist and Welsh nationalist movements, his wide reading in Welsh literature, in English literature, in anthropology and in Eastern religions, and his interest in the philosophy of international figures such as Gandhi and of international thinkers such as Buber and Berdayev.’ (Jim Perrin). ‘Preseli’ was Waldo's own favourite poem of his, composed in 1946 in a direct response to the threat of turning the Preseli hills into a permanent military exercise range. For Waldo, such use of sacred land was sacrilege.
Preseli Wall of my boyhood, Moel Drigarn, Carn Gyfrwy, Tal Mynydd, In my mind’s independence ever at my back; And my floor, from Witwig to Wern and to the smithy Where from an essence older than iron, the sparks were struck. And on the farmyards, on the hearths of my people Wedded to wind and rain and mist and heathery livrocky land, They wrestle with the earth and the sky, and they beat them, And they toss the sun to their children as still they bend. For me a memory and a symbol – that slope with reaping party With their neighbours’ oats falling four-swathed to their blades. The act they took for fun at a run, and straightening their bodies, Flung one four-voiced giant laugh to the sun. So my Wales shall be brotherhood’s womb, her destiny she will dare it. The sick world’s balm shall be brotherhood alone. It is the pearl pledged by time to eternity To be the pilgrim’s hope in this little crooked lane. And this was my window – these harvestings and sheep shearings. I glimpsed the order of a kingly court. Hark! A roar and ravage through a windowless forest. To the wall! We must keep our well clear of this beast’s dirt. Waldo Williams’s own translation.
The closing line here has been quoted from pulpits and from the docks of law courts as a cry to withstand the defiling and adulterating of Welshness, but it stands as a universal cry to protect the sacred Earth from expropriation, exploitation, enclosure, commodification, commercialisation, annexation ... however you want to phrase the abomination: 'To the wall! We must keep our well clear of this beast’s dirt.'
Waldo felt shame, and personal guilt, at war and decided to take a stand against it and against war mongering.
The Peacemakers “Rose-red sky above the snow Where bombed Swansea is alight, Full of my father and mother I go, I walk home in the night. They are blest beyond hearing, Peacemakers, children of God. Neither, within their home, abuse Nor slander could be found. Mam would look for an excuse For the biggest scoundrels round. They are blessed beyond hearing, Peacemakers, children of God. It was the angel of poor homes Gave my father two rich pearls: Brotherhood the mission of man God's largesse the invisible world. They are blessed beyond hearing, Peacemakers, children of God. Nation good or nation bad (So they taught) is fantasy. In Christ's light is freedom had For any man that would be free. Blest, the day dawns that will hear them, Peacemakers, children of God. What is their estate tonight, Tonight, with the world ablaze? Truth is with my father yet, Mother with forgiveness stays. The age will be blest that hears them, Peacemakers, children of God.”
We must keep our well clear of this beast’s dirt.
In his poem Daw'r Wennol Yn Ol I'w Nyth, Waldo writes: “To their school, war came To tear up the field of Crug y Mel.” Waldo’s target is Castlemartin, Pembrokeshire, the base for war and soldiering. The army had a plan for building a permanent training base in the Preseli hills. But the locals rallied, in the words of Waldo, “To keep the wall from the monster, to keep the well free of dirt.” Waldo's consistent target is war, war in all its forms, and the monstrous way in which some people relate to others and to the Earth. And Waldo lived his words. He was a Quaker and a pacifist who protested against the Korean war, refused to pay income tax to fund war and, as a result, went to prison in 1960 and 1961. Sent to prison, he was happy to get a gardening job, and he appreciated the comradeship with other prisoners. A good man, and a good example to follow. A man who led by example.
In 1958, he was given an Arts Council award of £100 in recognition of the excellence of his Dail Pren (Tree Leaves). He immediately gave the money to UNESCO for the purpose of furthering the education of children around the world. The title is a direct reference Revelations 22, Eden Restored: 'Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be any curse.'
A recent splendid re-issue of Dail Pren by Gomer Press is available with a fine introduction by Mererid Hopwood. Many of Waldo’s poems can be read in translation. The most comprehensive collection would be Anthony Conran’s The Peacemakers: Selected Poems published by Gomer Press in 1997.
Between Two Fields’ (Mewn Dau Gae) was written by Waldo Williams in 1956 specifically for inclusion in the volume Dail Pren.
‘The poem had been ruminating ever since Waldo was a teenager as it is based on a mystical experience he felt when wandering around two particular fields close to the family home at Llandysilio. This is the poem, more than any other, which conveys Waldo’s majesty and the deep experiences he contemplated.’ Between Two Fields is one of Waldo’s most celebrated poems. Here, he expresses an extraordinary, mystical, vision he had as a young boy between two fields in the Preseli hills. Here, it came to him that all the peoples of the world are related as one. More than this, he came to understand that the realization that we are all brothers and sisters is the very purpose of our existence. But the key question he debates is just who it is that decides that purpose? Hence his relentless questioning: “Who? Who was the marksman? The sudden expositor?” Although there was no one around, Waldo saw fields full of people united as one. That was his vision, “rolling the sea of light.” The people he saw in the Preseli were a peaceful people living as one with each other and with the Earth. In Waldo’s words, they earned “the earth’s help with their skill.” A real and enduring peace requires that we treat the Earth that sustains us with respect and not greed. He expresses this very idea in the poem “Preseli.” He talks of those who “reached and gave the children the sun.” They passed on the best things in life to the next generation. Life’s journey is hard and often full of pain and suffering. Waldo writes about this journey, and how pain and suffering are to be faced and overcome. “The day will come when the small will stand tall.” Those who are downtrodden will one day rise and truth and goodness prevail.
Between Two Fields These two fields a green sea-shore, the tide spilling radiance across them, and who knows where such waters rise? And I’d had years in a dark land, looldng: where did it, where did he come from then? Only he’d been there all along. Who though? who was this marksman loosing off bolts of sudden light? One and the same the lightning hunter across the field, the hand to tilt and spill the sea, who from the vaults above the bright-voiced whistlers, the keen darting ployers, brought down on me such quiet, such Quiet: enough to rouse me. Up to that day nothing had worked but the hot sun to get me going, stir up drowsy warm verses: like blossom on gorse that cracldes in the ditches, or like the army of dozy rushes, dreaming of clear summer sky. But now: imagination shakes off the night. Someone is shouting (who?), Stand up and walk. Dance. Look. Here is the world entire. And in the middle of all the words, who is hiding? Like this is how it was. There on the shores of light between these fields, under these clouds. Clouds: big clouds, pilgrims, refugees, red with the evening sun of a November storm. Down where the fields divide, and ash and maple cluster, the wind’s sound, the sound of the deep, is an abyss of silence. So who was it stood there in the middle of this shameless glory, who stood holding it all? Of every witness witness, the memory of every memory, the life of every life? who with a quiet word calms the red storms of self, till all the labours of the whole wide world fold up into this silence. And on the silent sea-floor of these fields, his people stroll. Somewhere between them, through them, around them, there is a new voice rising and spilling from its hiding place to hold them, a new voice, call it the poet’s as it was for some of us, the little group who’d been all day mounting assault against the harvest with our forks, dragging the roof-thatch over the heavy meadow. So near, we came so near then to each other, the quiet huntsman spreading his net around us. Listen! you can just catch his whistling, hear it? Whistling, across the centuries of blood on the grass, and the hard light of pain; whistling only your heart hears. Who was it then, for God’s sake? mocking our boasts, tracking our every trail and slìpping past all our recruitìng sergeants? Don’t you know? says the whistling, Don’t you remember? don’t you recognise? it says; until we do. And then, our ice age over, think of the force of hearts released, springing together, think of the fountains brealdng out, reaching up after the sky, and falling back, showers of falling leaves, waters of autumn. Think every day, under the sun, under these clouds, think every night of this, with every cell of your mind’s branching swelling shoots; but with the quiet, the same quiet, the steady breath, the steady gaze across the two fields, holding still the yision: fair fields full of folk; for it will come, dawn of his longed-for coming, and what a dawn to long for. He will arrive, the outlaw, the huntsman, the lost heir making good his claim to no-man’s land, the exiled king is coming home one day; the rushes sweep aside to let him through. Rowan Williams, From the Welsh of Waldo Williams’ ‘Mewn Dau Gae’
‘Waldo Williams’s world is one that both invites and tests the translator. Because he can create an imaginative world so charged with light and with what I can only call a sense, an unmistakably Christian sense, of ‘wisdom’ embodied – a world charged with moral as well as visual vigour and radiance, charged with expectation of a personal but also a cosmic epiphany – the impulse to recreate is strong.’
I return to the poem Cofio, which has won a place in the heart of the Welsh nation. It’s an enchanting poem. It sings. But there is trepidation when he writes of “little words of lost languages.” No-one rolls those words on their tongues any more. “Ond tafod neb ni eilw arnynt mwy.” Waldo concludes with what seems to be a rhetorical question that offers hope. Deep down, he seems to affirm that someone, somewhere, maybe drawing on something in the innate and universal grammar of life, everything forgotten gets remembered and may be called back in our time of need. Waldo writes of those unremembered things of humankind, but in a way that suggests that, one day, there will be remembrance.
Cofio (Remembrance) One fleeting moment as the sun is setting, One gentle moment as the night falls fast, To bring to mind the things that are forgotten, Now scattered in the dust of ages past. Like white-foamed waves that break on lonely beaches, Like the wind’s song where no one hears the wind, They beckon us, I know, but to no purpose – The old forgotten things of humankind. The artistry and skills of early peoples, Small dwelling-places and enormous halls, Old well-told tales that have been lost for ages, The gods that now no mortal could recall. And little words of languages long-vanished, Lithe words once lively on the lips of men, And pretty in the prattle of small children, No tongue will ever utter them again. Oh, earth’s innumerable generations, Their sacred dreams and fragile sanctity, Is the heart silent that was once acquainted With sadness and with gladness and with glee ? Often at close of day, when I am lonely, I long to know you all, bring all to mind; Is there a heart or memory still to cherish The old forgotten things of humankind? Translation by Alan Llwyd
I like other translations of these words: “The skill and achievements of those early people. In small abodes and in great halls. The artful tales lost over centuries The gods not known to any now And the little words of lost languages Happy on the lips of men they were And sweet on the ear of children’s chatter But no-one rolls them on their tongues by now Oh, untold generations of the world With their dreams divine and fragile divinity Is silence all that remains for those hearts That once rejoiced and knew despair? Often, as dusk draws in and I’m alone A yearning comes to know you every one Is there one left whose heart and mind recalls Those old forgotten things of humankind?” “hen bethau anghofiedig teulu dyn.”
Throughout his life, Waldo Williams based his vision of the brotherhood of man upon a belief in the inborn divinity, and goodness, of every individual. Persuaded early of the truth of the inner light, he eventually joined the Quakers, discovering in their socially active faith the kind of mystical attraction Whitman had also felt toward the teaching of the controversial Quaker Elias Hicks. But for Waldo, as for Whitman, the corollary of spiritual immanence was what, with his genius for succinctness, he called “Awen adnabod.” (Jim Perrin).
Poetic inspiration, flowing spirit, the muse of creative artists: 'Spirit energy in flow is the essence of life'. (Emma Restall Orr, Living Druidry. (2004).
On Friday, March 23, 2012 the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, delivered a lecture entitled ‘Poetry and Peacemaking’, based on the poems of Waldo Williams, at Pisga Chapel, Llandysilio, Pembrokeshire. The event was organised by Cymdeithas Waldo and Waldo’s stature as a poet was enhanced to that of a poet who knew the true meaning of ‘awen’ or ‘life-force’.
‘The Archbishop explained that ‘awen’ is to do with the primitive primordial energy coupled with the imaginative spirit. He ventured further by stating that ‘awen’ owns the world whereas ‘elw’ (profit) is nothing but fantasy. This he insisted Waldo knew well and that, he emphasised, is why it is so important to understand the meaning of ‘awen’ as the quality that connects and completes all things under the surface. ‘Awen’ works by means of recognition and when this recognition is embodied in poetry the words possess the force of peacemaking. We were told that true poetry was in its essence an act of peacemaking as it is in itself an attempt at reconciliation at a level above all political agenda. He insisted this was part of Waldo’s perceived wisdom.’
Waldo joined the Quakers in his mid-fifties, relishing the inner stillness he would experience in the Meeting House. More from the account of Rowan Williams' lecture on Waldo Williams:
'‘The respected theologian referred to how being a Quaker had influenced Waldo’s inner life by forcing him to concentrate on the light that offers an instinctive path towards the truth through the emphasis placed on listening to silence and listening to wonder. He convinced us that Waldo was an old hand at waiting for the silence. He referred to Euros Bowen and Steffan Griffith’s understanding of how Waldo reached the depths of silence and how he fervently opposed the sound of words in the Friends’ meetings as it hindered the process of planting the roots of silence. Rowan Williams emphasised how poetry resists cliché and banal rhymes as the true poet wishes to demonstrate the integrity of words through simplicity of expression. Poetry is an art keen to reconcile and that is why Waldo opposed the greed that creates profit and the tearing of the earth by military vehicles, as he believed the seeds of God should be sown in the earth. He said that Waldo by articulating his experience in Flour Field and Flour Field Marsh, as he does in the poem ‘In Two Fields’, testifies to the transforming force of ‘awen’.He referred to Waldo’s own description of being present at the baptism of a young man who was on his way to war and how he wished the young man’s allegiance to the state could be transformed to an allegiance to ‘awen’ which possesses hidden depths capable of changing the world.’
What is Man? By Waldo Williams: What is living? The broad hall found between narrow walls. What is acknowledging? Finding the one root under the branches’ tangle. What is believing? Watching at home till the time arrives for welcome. What is forgiving? Pushing your way through thorns to stand alongside your old enemy. What is singing? The ancient gifted breath drawn in creating. What is labour but making songs from the wood and the wheat? What is it to govern kingdoms? A skill still crawling on all fours. And arming kingdoms? A knife placed in a baby’s fist. What is it to be a people? A gift lodged in the heart’s deep folds. What is love of country? Keeping house among a cloud of witnesses. What is the world to the wealthy and strong? A wheel, turning and turning. What is the world to earth’s little ones? A cradle, rocking and rocking.
Waldo Williams’ haunting reply to the question “What is it to live?” is this: “to possess a great hall within a cell.” Here's the story. One day, Waldo was cycling around Pembrokeshire, as he did. And he came upon a man who was cutting grass outside of a chapel. “What a little chapel you have” said Waldo. The man took umbrage. “It may be small from the outside, but it’s big inside!” Waldo understood the meaning perfectly. As he wrote: “Cael Neuadd fawr rhwng cyfyng furiau” – “To possess a great hall within a cell.” Everyone looks for life at its best. That’s a quest for living in a great hall. But this large life must be understood as having narrow walls – being in place.
This standing stone in a quiet spot in this beautiful place is a fitting memorial for Waldo Williams, I think. I would just hope that all who pass by take the time to stop and look around, appreciate the wealth of the world, and experience eternity in an Hour. “We know since the moment comes, That we are born for the Hour.” (Waldo Williams, Yr Eiliad). Here, in the Preseli hills, Waldo saw a community of kinship and kindness between all people and all things, and he saw that such a realization on our part would not allow war between humans nor between humans and Earth and its various beings and bodies. The kinship between each and all, the common ancestry, the common ground, the common fate, evokes a communal feeling that expresses the life insurgent, and ever resurgent, driving us on to a greater unity.
“One day, brotherhood will unite the families of Earth.” “Daw bore ni wel ond brawdoliaeth yn casglu teuluoedd y llawr.”
Waldo Williams spent his childhood in the village of Mynachlog-ddu which is just a couple of miles south from Gors fawr. The plaque is ugly on the stone, but is a reminder of where he grew up and what influenced his poetry. His most famous translated poem ‘Two Fields’ echoes the sombre feel of the Welsh landscape. The poem expresses the essence of the timelessness of the landscape:
Two Fields By Waldo Williams
Those fields – I’ve walked across them – they are
Extraordinary fields, though inaccessible to the seeker
After transcendence this is no loss for the page
Holds them in view and they extend into the margins
Between field hedges and the nets of the Hunter
In many places and times where time
Is arrested and held captive by a tether
Of stillness long enough to feel chastened by silence.
Sunlight touches a wall on a summer afternoon,
Shadows enclose a moment which passes from forever
To forever: Such blessings are felt to be precious.
But hearing beyond them voices calling in a common
Tongue of work and worship echoing through centuries,
And knowing that they witness this moment
When all is still, so that being alone
Is to be with them, resonates beyond solitude.
Voices heard in the echoes of whistling lapwings
Tremble to life over empty meadows; each hand,
Each tongue unique in the passing of time yet fused
In a moment making one of many things.’
Waldo’s Garden! The Quaker headquarters in London, located off Euston Road, has developed what can be ostensibly called ‘Waldo’s Garden’. The space for reflection was designed by Wendy Price, a horticulturalist and design consultant, “as a piece of visual outreach celebrating Quakers”. Price quoted as her inspiration the ‘sea of light’ reference in Waldo Williams’ poem ‘Between Two Fields’ – “Where did the sea of light roll from/Onto Flower Meadow Field and Flower Field?” His reference to light and fields spoke to her about early Quakers. The choice of plants is informed by the poet’s ‘sea of light’ quotation and, through spring days, as hard landscaping has been softened by planting, existing mature trees, magnolias and olive trees (symbols of peace) have been joined by blossoming Amelanchier lamarki (emblematic of Native Americans). Around the entrance to Friends House heavily scented plants like rosemary (for remembrance) will engage visitors’ senses. Lavender plants will be particularly attractive to the two thriving colonies of bees that have been kept on the roof of Friends House. Rainwater will be collected to help water the garden. The garden speaks of the ways Quakers put their faith into action. The words ‘peace’, ‘equality’, ‘simplicity’ and ‘truth’ are inscribed on a central stone set in the pathway. A time capsule has been buried in the garden with its contents illustrating the kind of world young Quakers wish to see by 2116. These include a peace flag symbolising world peace without nuclear weapons, a solar charger since energy will be produced from renewable sources and a packet of Lunaria (honesty) seeds to encourage the growth of society to become fair and just. Visitors are welcome to spend some time in contemplation in the garden at 173 Euston Road, London. Friends House garden transformed ‘Quakers' newly re-landscaped garden at Friends House is a welcoming space for reflection. With planting and design inspired by a poem by Waldo Williams, it speaks of Quakerism, of peace, equality, simplicity and truth.’ Me, I loved rambling around in Waldo's Garden here in the Preseli Hills, a Green Peace indeed.
The last poem that Waldo composed was Llandysilio-yn-Nyfed. In the sonnet, he praises Saint Tysilio for refusing to take up arms as was expected of him, instead choosing the path of peace. That path was Waldo's, too. And the path we should all take, if we want to walk in Waldo's world. It's a good world.
Waldo Williams died on 20 May 1971. His remains were interred in the grave in which his father, mother and wife Linda Llewellyn were buried, in the graveyard of Blaenconin Baptist chapel. It was in this chapel that he was confirmed at the age of seventeen, and in which he later married Linda. He composed a brief cywydd (strict-metre poem) for his wife, and a poem of praise for his mother entitled “Angharad”. “Y Tangnefeddwyr” (The Peacemakers) is also a tribute to his parents, written when German planes were bombing Swansea during the Second World War.
Cymdeithas Waldo Society was established in 2010 with the following aims:
Sustain the memory of the life and work of Waldo Williams who is regarded as one of Wales’ most influential poets and a bard of international significance.
Promote Waldo Williams’ contribution to the literature and culture of Wales through interpretation and a deeper understanding of his work.
Appreciate and promote Waldo Williams’ contribution to pacificism.
The committee is aware of Waldo’s convictions as a pacifist and Quaker and is keen to draw attention to these facets of his personality without forgetting his passion for cycling.