Dyn da oedd Dewi
Dyn da oedd Dewi
Dyn da oedd Dewi
Dewi, Dewi Sant
Dewi, Dewi Sant
Outside the little cottage
Where Dewi Sant was born
The cold wind it did grumble
And cheerless was the morn
But on dear Dewi’s cottage
The sun was bright and gleamed
And gentle were the breezes
Like summer so it seemed.
The above was sung by me on St David’s Day many years ago (as part of the school you understand, not as a solo) We went to a english speaking school, which is pretty much the norm in South Wales, but it meant that welsh was not really taught until you went to the big school (comprehensive). Even though most of the teaches spoke welsh, usually to gossip in front of a baffled class of children so they would not be understood. (We had, to be fair, been taught a little welsh which mainly centred around the farmyard, but ‘Mae'r mochyn yn y cwt’ (the pig is in the sty), doesn’t really crop up in conversation surprisingly.)