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Rhos Fach Standing Stones

Standing Stones

<b>Rhos Fach Standing Stones</b>Posted by postman
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<b>Rhos Fach Standing Stones</b>Posted by Kammer
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Rhos Fach Standing Stones (Standing Stones) by Kammer Taken 19th April 2003: These two stones are not the Rhos Fach Standing Stones, but two nearby modern stones. They are much more obvious than the Rhos Fach stones, standing on common land on either side of the road.

The stone on the right was airlifted down from Carn Meini in 1989 to mark the Silver Jubilee of the Cystic Fibrosis Trust (not sure that I can see the connection). The stone on the left is a memorial to someone called Waldo, who died in 1971.

The following translation is taken from the book Saints and Stones (ISBN 1-84323-124-7) by Davies and Eastham:
Wall of my boyhood,
Foel Drygarn, Garn Gyfrwy, Tal Mynydd.

At my back
In all independence of mind
Foel Drygarn is the peak to the north, capped with an Iron Age Fort and three enormous Bronze Age cairns. Garn Gyfrwy is a rocky outcrop to the east of Carn Meini.
Kammer Image Credit: Simon Marshall
Posted by Kammer
21st May 2003ce
Edited 25th June 2004ce
NB: Unless otherwise stated, this image is protected under the copyright of the original poster and may not be re-used without permission.

Comments (2)

> someone called Waldo

"Waldo (Goronwy) Williams (30 September 1904 – 20 May 1971) was one of the leading Welsh language poets of the twentieth century. He was also a notable pacifist, anti-war campaigner, and Welsh nationalist."

His memorial is every bit as "real" as the other standing stones in the Preselau. We just happen to know why it's there.
Posted by ceiriog
3rd November 2011ce
Two Fields by Waldo Williams, (not sure how much of his poetry is translated)

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.

Heritage Journal;
moss Posted by moss
4th November 2011ce
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