Born in Trawsfynydd on the 13th of January, 1887, Elis Humprey Evans, his education supressed by his working class status, made a living through farming. However, throughout his whole life, Elis had poetic aspirations. By the age of twenty eight, had won four county Eisteddfod chairs. But, his goal was for something greater; Elis desired the chair at the National Eisteddfod, the greatest honour for any Welsh poet.
In 1917, Elis was caught by the draft for the War. It was fighting here that inspired Elis to write his Magnum Opus, 'Yr Arwr' (The Hero), written in the form of an Awdl (Ode). Yr Arwr was submitted to the National Eisteddfod, and Elis finaly realised his goal; the poem won the chair. However, Elis's victory was tainted by one thing - his death at the Paschendale. The chair was awarded posthumously, and as a sign of respect, was draped in a black cloth.
For a selected collection of Hedd Wyn's poems, visit http://cy.wikisource.org/wiki/Categori:Hedd_Wyn. They're all in Welsh, but I may be motivated to translate them into English if you ask nicely
The poem 'Rhyfel' is one of Elis's most popular poems, and was actually written before he was drafted.
Rhyfel
Gwae fi fy myw mewn oes mor ddreng,
A Duw ar drai ar orwel pell;
O'i ôl mae dyn, yn deyrn a gwreng,
Yn codi ei awdurdod hell.
Pan deimlodd fyned ymaith Dduw
Cyfododd gledd i ladd ei frawd;
Mae sŵn yr ymladd ar ein clyw,
A'i gysgod ar fythynnod tlawd.
Mae'r hen delynau genid gynt
Ynghrog ar gangau'r helyg draw,
A gwaedd y bechgyn lond y gwynt,
A'u gwaed yn gymysg efo'r glaw.
War
Woe is me that I live in an age so perverse,
And God at ebb on a distant horizon;
After him, man, the lord and commoner,
Raising his ugly authority.
When he felt God going away
He raised a sword to kill his brother;
The sound of fighting is on our ear,
And its shadow on poor cottages.
The old harps that were played before are
Suspended on the branches of yonder willows,
And the cries of the boys filled the wind,
And their blood mixed with the rain.
