Wylit, wylit, Llywelyn, wylit waed pe gwelit hyn.
Ein calon gan estron wˆ r, ein coron gan goncwerwr,
Weep, weep, Llywelyn, you would cry tears of blood if you saw this.
Our heart taken by a stranger, our crown by a conqueror.

ON A SUNNY SEPTEMBER DAY Friends of Cambria listened as Meic Stephens read this wonderful poem by Gerallt Lloyd Owen. I understood only the odd word here and there but the cadence of the words was haunting and the later knowledge of their meaning even more so. I do believe that every school child should hear them. Around the  world children’s consciousness of their belonging is groomed from an early age, the Americans start every school day with the Pledge of Allegiance. I can still remember the old atlases at school when I was seven or eight; as you flipped through the dog-eared pages the dominant colour was pink, and we all knew that pink was the colour of the British Empire. It was doing a similar job, subliminally feeding our self-assurance, our innate belief in our place in the world, filling us with a feeling of security. That was pretty well forty years ago and although we didn’t realise it at the time, it was even then just a memory. That secure feeling is a great gift for an individual, but collectively it can take a long time to become accustomed to a world where the words ‘without let or hindrance’ are no longer in our passports, and even when they ceased to be used, they were already pretty meaningless. There is much talk today of an erosion of the Welsh psyche by the overwhelming influence of global commercialisation, and built into that psyche is a debilitating lack of confidence. In this lies the fragility of Wales today.

There is much talk too of Wales being the poorest part of Europe – ever since I can remember this has been a recurring theme, the figures are made up, of course, from statistics built on low wage levels, high unemployment and declining economic activity. Yet Wales herself is actually rich, incredibly rich: in Roman times it was gold, later copper and other ores; in the industrial age slate and coal; and in the twentieth century it was – and still is water – and now to that list we can add alternative energy. Wales contributed enormously to the wealth and influence of Victorian Britain. This wealth has not been exhausted; beneath our feet the ground is still mineral rich, the wind continues to blow and the rain still falls. The land is beautiful, and whilst no breadbasket for cereal, we are nevertheless world famous for the excellence of our meat and dairy.

Many of you are kind enough to send us ideas, suggestions and even articles on a wide variety of subjects, many of these, one way or another end up in the magazine. They are a constant source of inspiration. It is plain that there are many whose exploits and lives should not be forgotten, yet of whom little if anything is known. They are unsung and overlooked. So in this issue we start a series devoted to them. This is not about nostalgia, but about knowledge, memory and respect, and the power these have in helping to create the future.

Frances Jones-Davies, Editor