In The Gardens In The Rhondda by Idris Davies

In the gardens in the Rhondda

The daffodils dance and shine

When tired men trudge homeward

From factory and mine.

 

The daffodils dance in the gardens

Behind the grim brown row

Built amongst the slagheaps

In a hurry long ago.

 

They dance as though in passion

To shame and to indict

The brutes who built so basely

In the long Victorian night.

 

by Idris Davies