Tuesday, 15 June 2010
"There is strange to walk in a town. Something is strange in the faces of people who live all their lives in a town. For their lives are full of the clock and their eyes are blind with seeing so many wonders, and they have no pleasure of expectation or prettiness of wish. Good things are heaped in the windows all round them, but their pockets are empty, and thus they suffer in their minds, for where they would own, now they must wish, and wishes denied soon turn to a lust that shows itself in the face. Too much to see, day after day, and too much noise for peace, and too little time in a round of the clock to sit by themselves, and think".
Richard Llewellyn wrote 'How green was my valley' in 1939, and like me, was English born, but spent some time in Wales.
I read this only a few years ago, and at that time I was heavily involved in retail developments, some of which were in Cardiff. I love the narrow Arcades there, and although they were probably not the safest places to visit back then, it is not difficult to let the imagination run wild.
The passage above just jumped out of the pages, and I even copied it and stuck it up on the wall in my office, because it still encapsulates street life today.