(This is the English translation of a poem by Waldo Williams in which he eulogises the moorland around Puncheston – Cas’ Mael. His descriptions of skylarks and stones are pretty spot on)
On Weun Cas’ Mael
I’ll walk once more on Weun Cas’ Mael -
And bushes of gorse tell the tale,
Sick withered winter without fail
Is losing the day.
‘Our kindly sky will be blue in a while,‘
Flaming, they say.
Even today, over the drear
Dank moorland, when a moment’s clear
A skylark gives it’s confident cheer,
Zestful and strong,
Inspiring hope in the country near,
Unlocks bright song.
Oh, blossom on the roughest tree,
Oh, song on the steep, wild and free -
One sweet from the one strength, to be
The brave delight
Of bare acres the world can’t see
Or value right
Wales of dark moorland and stone,
Nurse of the mind that stands alone,
From age to age your strength’s been shown
And still it stays.
Bring us to share in, O make known
Your life, your ways!
The lovely severity you show
Woke favour of man with man, to grow
A company all one, and so
By you empowered,
Knowing no slavery, their slow
Order flowered.
From steel captivity, low hurt
Crosses Cas’ Mael. O save us yet!
Men serve the false power in the pit
Of dark Tre Cwn.
To the pure breezes, raise us our
Of the cave’s tomb!
As the Lark gives from your ground
Point and zest in his circling round,
Your praise let each gift teach to sound,
Nurture and grow it,
And grant me, Wales, that I be found,
For your sake, poet.