Jun 28 - Faller's Poetry Recited At Welsh Literary Festival
Local writer and poet Rebecca Faller has had one of her poems performed at the R S Thomas Literary Festival in Aberdaron, Wales, over the weekend.
Ronald Stuart Thomas (1913 – 2000) was a Welsh poet and Anglican priest who was noted for his nationalism and spirituality. He was considered one of the major English language and European poets of the 20th century.
In 2014, Rebecca wrote an homage to R S Thomas by updating his famous 1952 poem ‘Cynddylan on a Tractor’ with her own modern take: ‘Samantha on an iphone’.
“Cynddylan is my favourite poem, I studied it as school aged 11 and was instantly drawn in, the poem has never left me,” she said.
“Last year I tentatively posted my version on the R S Thomas Poetry Appreciation Facebook group. I was nervous that it may not have gone down too well but was then delighted to be contacted last week by Michael Evans who wanted to perform both poems at the open mic session in the festival.”
Posting on the Facebook group Michael Evans said his rendition of Rebecca’s poem “received a lot of laughs and applause”.
Homage to R S Thomas and Cynddylan on a Tractor 1952
Cynddylan on a Tractor by R S Thomas 1952
Ah, you should see Cynddylan on a tractor.
Gone the old look that yoked him to the soil,
He's a new man now, part of the machine,
His nerves of metal and his blood oil.
The clutch curses, but the gears obey
His least bidding, and lo, he's away
Out of the farmyard, scattering hens.
Riding to work now as a great man should,
He is the knight at arms breaking the fields'
Mirror of silence, emptying the wood
Of foxes and squirrels and bright jays.
The sun comes over the tall trees
Kindling all the hedges, but not for him
Who runs his engine on a different fuel.
And all the birds are singing, bills wide in vain,
As Cynddylan passes proudly up the lane.
Samantha on an iphone by Rebecca Faller 2014
Ah, you should see Samantha on an iphone.
Gone the old look that yoked her to the desk,
She’s a new girl now, loving her machine,
Her nerves of metal and her brain a mess.
The keypad curses, but the screen obeys
Her least bidding, and lo, she’s away
Out of the lobby, scattering friends.
Running to work now as a good girl should
She is the Boudica breaking the peoples’
Trains of thought , and inner good.
Whose patience runs thin with each little bleep.
Stilted, halted she shows them her palm.
Their chatter cut, but not for she
Who runs her life on a different fuel.
All the girls are speechless, mouths wide in vain
As Samantha passes proudly up the lane.
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