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Wales

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Vol, III no. 4 Summer 1944

The Vale of Clwyd. Cardiff. Swansea, 1943

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Cardiff
CHIRPO, the heart chord chimes from old Llandaff,
Spin ghostbells, twinkling golden on the air.
Say again lips, a ruby in the hair,
Plash of the brown boy divers in the Taff.
Snowtime winds up the tousled castle keep,.
Frosting a crispen spectre's dungeon tooth,
A minstrel dreamer's haunting lays of sooth,
Plucked in the pale brows flashing bow of sleep.
Tallowland lights the glittering window panes
In Butetown, seamen babbling in the rains,
Shudder gleetcold in the embrace of whores,
Scarlet heels anchored in the tinking doors.
Swift bubbling fish, brine silvery horn shells bone,
Chanty green facets in the hearts of stone.
MERVYN Levy.
Swansea, 1943
MOST times about that little space, at five,
Lamp eyes turned softly down, the tramways linked.
My childhood's fainting candle gutted, chinked
In the dawn stirring blind, first hopes alive,
In Swansea's waking streets, a Juneblue day,
Rusting the silence over Mumble's head,
I'd lie awhile, and hear the milkman's tread,
Harp of St. Helen's County's fickle play.
Unquenched, the burning musics of the tide,
Salting the shattered city of the vales,
Roar through crumbling terraces. Warm in their pride;
Flicker immortal citizen's of Wales.
My childhood was the sweetness of your shore.
Atlantis with your toppling towers of war.
MERVYN Levy.
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