Gwyneth Lewis – Henaint / Old Age, a double pleasure in Welsh and English.
Pleasure despite excruciating pain. I find myself recommending a tormenting thrill. Gwyneth Lewis’s Welsh poem Henaint and her translation of it into English, Old Age are excellent examples of the wonderful double enjoyment that a poet working in two languages can offer. Continue reading Eborakon: Gwyneth Lewis – Henaint/Old Age
I like anything that delivers on its pitch and that was certainly the case with the Mairtín Crawford Award Workshop: Preparing Poetry For Submission, April15th at the Crescent Arts Centre, Belfast.
Continue reading Mairtín Crawford Poetry Award Workshop with Moyra Donaldson
Easter edition Bangor Literary Journal. Download here
Easter
A rent in the year
Through which the cold news comes:
Even the best of us
Will be consumed by pain,
Abandoned undeservedly
And not know why
And asked to say to all this,
Yes,
Though he destroy me
Yet I trust in him.
Each of us shivers
In this gap,
Choosing to assent
Or not
To love’s defiance
Of anything other than itself.
Victory or vindication –
These it lets fall
(Aborted fruits),
Facing into the wind,
Arms wide.
I first worked in radio for the BBC in Wales in 1981. I’m still learning. On the 2nd July 2017 on the Jamie Owen Show I learned: always have your opening prepared, no matter how informal the programme. The right blend of spontaneity and clarity flows more easily after that.
This show mixes recorded music, live performance, two guest commentators and two interviewees. The brief is weird and wonderful angles on the week’s news so, along with fellow commentator, comedian, Frank Honeybone, I enjoyed sharing some ‘couldn’t-make-it-up’ stories with listeners.
I want to end 2015 by writing about something that connects death and life. On August 12th I went with my husband and our friends, Anne and Huw to the large village of Bellaghy in County Derry, Northern Ireland. I’d been there before to visit Bellaghy Bawn, a substantial house dating from the early seventeenth century, from the days of the Plantation of Ulster. It has for some time housed memorabilia connected with the poet, Seamus Heaney who grew up not far away.
But it’s not so much the Bawn that has stayed with me from this visit. It’s the graveyard.
Rhyme and Reason: Reflections on a Changing UK
I was commissioned to write 2 poems on the theme of the Scottish referendum for performance at the Wales Millennium Centre along with the following poets: