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CYFARWYDD, WELSH STORYTELLER

The fire crackled again as he stirred it with the branch. He added some more wood and leaned back against the trunk of the old oak. - Tell us a story, Gavin!" said as he curled up in his cloak. Gavin raised his head and looked at him over the flames. They had been walking all morning in the fine drizzle that had accompanied them since Caerdyf and he was tired. - It's all right," Gavin replied as he took another swig of his ale. Gavin was, after old Gareth, the oldest of the group. He had been a carpenter all his life, but he was also a cyfarwydd, a storyteller in Welsh folklore. But he wasn't just a storyteller, he was much more. The cyfarwydd could have other equally important roles in Welsh society. Unlike the bard, who played his role all day long, the cyfarwydd could be a wizard, a carpenter, a blacksmith, a tavern keeper... And the stories they told were not normal either. Their stories were compilations of the most beautiful verses and the best stories told by the bards, the elders of the village, the voices of the different families. And with all those pieces they made a unique, distinct and unforgettable story. Their stories echoed in every corner, wherever they were asked to tell a story, whether in court, at a celebration or by a bonfire under an old oak tree. We don't know why, but the vast majority of cyfarwyddiaid are anonymous. Perhaps it is because it wasn't their main function, perhaps because their stories weren't original or perhaps because the bards "occupied the official place". In any case, with their voice and their imagination they were able to bring people to distant places and times, far away from their daily routines. At least, for a while. And that was how they became history, that was how they themselves became history.

Gavin settled back in his seat, finished his beer and raising his voice began to speak... TO BE CONTINUED. Text in Collab with @fornleidh


 
 
 

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