Not What it Seems!

During the brief respite from Covid-19 precautions last year, the funeral was held of a lady who, with her husband, had moved to the town from Cardiff a few years previously; the funeral was thus a meeting of cultures as well as a celebration of her life.  

The organist for the occasion was a young woman whom I was privileged to consider a friend of mine - and still do.  I got there early for the service in order to secure a parking space and, in the quiet before the mourners arrived, we were chatting and looking through the order of service.  When I spotted that the final piece of music was to be a recording of Cerys Matthews singing Calon Lân, I spoke of my liking for the song, and showed her the words to it that I have stored on my phone.

When she said she didn't know it, I quietly sang the first verse and chorus to her as we sat by the organ.  Now, if I say she was looking at the words on my phone 'through English eyes', that would misrepresent this remarkable woman.  Born in Romania, her knowledge of English is faultless and she speaks it with scarcely any trace of an accent.  In addition, I know her to be fluent in a number of other languages ... but Welsh is not one of them!  Her comment was both revealing and profound.  "What I'm hearing is not what I'm seeing!"

For many decades, I have had a fascination for this 'foreign' tongue on our doorstep and, since my retirement, in addition to formally learning the language, I've 'adopted', if that's not too strong a word, the culture as well.  At weekends, I listen to programmes on BBC Radio Wales (having not yet progressed far enough in my studies to venture into BBC Cymru!), and it's like stepping into another world.  As my opening comments reveal, there's a different culture beyond Offa's Dyke!

At the end of that funeral, it seemed inevitable that some in the congregation would join in and, as they sang along with the chorus, I confess that I did so too, as I sat in my corner.  I have since tried to discover why it’s such an emotive song.  It is sung in churches and chapels, at eisteddfodau, rugby and football matches, and in stadiums and pubs across the country wherever Welshmen – and women – gather.  So deeply is it embedded within the Welsh culture that it could easily be believed that it’s far older than is actually the case.  

The words were written in 1891, allegedly on a cigarette packet, by a poet known for excessive drinking, who would sit in the King’s Head pub in his home town of Treboeth and exchange verses for ale ('poems for pints').  Daniel James, this lyricist, was born on 23 January 1848, one of five children; he became known as the 'bad boy' of Mynyddbach Chapel in Swansea.  He worked at Morriston Dyffryn steelworks, and later at a tinplate works.  When that closed, he moved to the Cynon Valley.  Here he was employed at a succession of three coal mines until, through ill health, he left the mines at the age of 68 and returned to live with his daughter in Morriston and died on 16 March 1920.  In later life he used the bardic name 'Gwyrosydd' (Man of the Moors), which appears on his tombstone in the Mynyddbach Chapel graveyard.

The tune was written on James’s invitation by a younger man, John Hughes.  He was born in 1872 at Pen y Bryn, Pembrokeshire and had already written 'Cwm Rhondda' for William Williams' great hymn 'Guide me O thou great Redeemer'.  The Irish-American writer Sean Curnyn claims that the combination of James’s syllables and Hughes's notes results in something very profound and able to affect the emotions with absolutely no idea of what the words mean.

It has been suggested that Calon Lân is neither a hymn nor a spiritual song; why then should it have such a strong emotional appeal?  What is it about the words of one of the most diversely sung songs in the world - although rarely, if ever, sung in English - that strikes directly to the hearts of Welshmen everywhere?  It's not the land itself; that has its own song, 'Land of My Fathers'.  And it's not the brave feats of Welsh heroes of the past like Owain Glyndŵr.  Here’s a link to a recording by Katherine Jenkins, useful because it shows an English translation as the Welsh words are being sung.  What, then, do those words have to say to us today?

Man's essential need is for spiritual maturity.  God has provided everything we need for a worthy and rewarding life, should we choose to accept it.  Sadly, many other philosophies are on offer from what some would call 'false teachers'.  These are to be avoided if we want that 'pure' life.  Pure is the word most translators have chosen for the Welsh (g)lân.  It’s a word for which it’s difficult to find an exact English equivalent; other words offered by Google’s translator include 'clean, complete, utter, holy, spotless, dear and fair'.

The message purveyed by those false teachers comes in modern ways to modern people, but is essentially the same as ever.  It is a message of permissiveness, the offer of present pleasure, material possessions and the complete denial of the existence of sin.  In his first two lines, Daniel James writes, 'Nid wy’n gofyn bywyd moethus, | Awr y byd na’i berlau mân' ('I don’t ask for a luxurious life, the world’s gold or its fine pearls') and in the second verse he acknowledges that, 'Pe dymunwn olud bydol, | Chwim adenydd iddo sydd' ('If I wished for worldly treasures, on swift wings they fly away.')

The third verse is a complete and constant prayer for the spiritual maturity that we all wish for, 'Hwyr a bore fy nymuniad | Gwyd i’r nef ar adain cân | Ar i Dduw, er mwyn fy Ngheidwad, | Roddi i mi galon lân.' ('Evening and morning, my wish, rising to heaven on the wing of song, is for God, for the sake of my Saviour, to give me a pure heart.') for, as the chorus repeats, 'Dim ond calon lân all ganu, | Canu'r dydd a chanu'r nos.' ('None but a pure heart can sing, sing in the day, sing in the night.')

What songs bring you that 'back-of-the-neck' tingle of emotion?

Sources:

            Curnyn, Sean: The Cinch Review, 23.5.2013

            Felinfach.com

                        Sotejeff-Wilson, Kate: Found in Translation, 6.7.2016

            Walesonline.co.uk, 11.4.2019