Oh, no, sir
A service I said
you'd be doing me
No need for us
to shake hands
We will live in the minds
of each other
Mr. Gruffydd,
won't you see Angharad
before you go?
She wants you to
No
If I were to see
her again,
I couldn't find the strength
to leave her
Goodbye, Huw
And there's a good old man
you are
[Whistle Blowing]
[Crowd Shouting]
What is it now?
Fire or flood or what?
Cave-in, they're saying
Take me up by there
What good in the darkness
of a mine?
Your eyes are no longer good
in the daylight
from the blows you
have taken in the ring
I can still
swing a pick
deeper than any man
Take me up there
[Explosion]
- Aah!
- Aah!
[Whistle Blowing]
Aah!
Bron! Bron!
Gwilym!
Those of you
with relatives
Let them to the pit
Gwilym Morgan?
Not yet, sir
Mr. Gruffydd,
on the lower level he was
[Coughing]
My father?
Not yet,
Mrs. Evans
[Crying]
[Woman Screams]
[Crying and Moaning]
[Church Bell Ringing]
Angharad
Who is
for Gwilym Morgan
and the others?
I, for one
He is the blood
of my heart
Come, Cyfartha
'Tis a coward I am,
but I will hold your coat
[Singing in Welsh]
Dada!
[Echoing]
Dada! Dada!
Dada!
Dada!
Huw
Lad
Dada!
Dada!
Dada!
Huw
Dada
Dada
Mr. Gruffydd!
There's a good old man
you are
He came to me just now
Ivor was with him
He spoke to me
and told me
of the glory he had seen
Look
[Church Bell Ringing]
[Singing in Welsh]
Men like my father
cannot die
they are with me still,
real in memory
as they were in flesh,
loving and beloved forever
How green
was my valley then
[Singing in Welsh]
[Church Bell Ringing]
{{{the end}}}I am packing my belongings in the shawl
my mother used to wear to the market,
and I am going from my valley.
And this time I shall never return.
I am leaving behind me
my 50 years of memory.
Memory.
Strange that the mind will forget so much
of what only this moment is passed,
and yet hold clear and bright
the memory of what happened years ago,
of men and women long since dead.
Yet who shall say
what is real and what is not?
Can I believe my friends all gone,
when their voices are still a glory in my ears?h
No. And I will stand to say no and no again,
for they remain a living truth within my mind.
There is no fence nor hedge
around time that is gone.o
You can go back and have what
you like of it, if you can remember.
So I can close my eyes on my valley
as it is today and it is gone,
and I see it as it was when I was a boy.
Green it was, and possessed
of the plenty of the earth.
In all Wales, there was none so beautiful.
Everything I ever learnt as
a small boy came from my father,
and I never found anything he ever told me
to be wrong or worthless.
The simple lessons he taught me
are as sharp and clear in my mind
as if I had heard them only yesterday.
In those days, the black slag,
the waste of the coal pits,
had only begun to cover the side of our hill,
not yet enough to mar the countryside,
nor blacken the beauty of our village.
For the colliery had only begun to poke
its skinny black fingers through the green.
I can hear even now
the voice of my sister Angharad.
Huw!
Angharad!
Coal miners were my father
and all my brothers, and proud of their trade.
- Gwilym Morgan, three pounds seven.
- Thank you, sir.
Lanto Morgan, three pounds seven.
Ivor Morgan, three pounds seven.
Davy Morgan, two pounds five.
Owen Morgan, two pounds five.
Young Gwilym Morgan, one pound ten.
Someone would strike up a song,
and the valley would ring
with the sound of many voices.
For singing is in my people
as sight is in the eye.
Then came the scrubbing,
out in the back yard.
It was the duty of my sister Angharad
to bring the buckets of hot water and

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