Poetry for Supper – David Sylvian and his Journey to Manafon

Robert Leeming

You can’t get much more rural than Manafon, the tiny Welsh border village of sandstone and slate, dominated by a simple chapel and an ancient elm tree. The tree’s leaves turn a rich golden yellow in October and collectively give up the ghost in a stiff biting breeze, cascading from their branches one autumnal afternoon, the scene briefly bringing to mind a “golden fountain playing silently in the sun.” Those last few words belong to the former rector of Manafon, R.S. Thomas, a deeply spiritual, solitary, nationalistic man and a poet too, one of Wales’s greatest, who wrote, “Every night is a rinsing myself of the darkness that is in my veins. I let the stars inject me with fire, silent as it is far, but certain in its cauterising of my despair. I am a slow traveller, but there is more than time to arrive.”

We probably all cannot…

View original post 1,996 more words

Quote

“The poverty of our century is… a set of priorities imposed upon the rest of the world by the rich.” — M o o r e z a r t

Originally posted on Art of Quotation: “The poverty of our century is… a set of priorities imposed upon the rest of the world by the rich.” “The poverty of our century is unlike that of any other. It is not, as poverty was before, the result of natural scarcity, but of a set of priorities…

via “The poverty of our century is… a set of priorities imposed upon the rest of the world by the rich.” — M o o r e z a r t