East-West (Welsh) Relations

Not long after the Cold War began, it so happened that a socialist Welshman -- Dai Jones by name -- was in London. He happened to be sitting in a park one day when a man in a trench coat came and sat beside him.
'Voud you be interested in spying on ze Briddish?' asked the stranger in a thick Russian accent.
'Sure I would, boyo,' said Dai Jones cheerfully. 'For we Welsh have been oppressed for years. I'm on your side!'
'Very well,' said the stranger, pulling a wad of ten-pound notes from his coat pocket. 'Ze password vill be, "Ze geese fly high over ze frozen pond while ze sun shines." Got that?'
'Right you are,' says Dai. '"Ze geese fly high over ze frozen pond while ze sun shines". That's it, isn't it? What do I have to do?'
'Nuzzing for ze moment,' said ze Russian (sorry, I am getting carried away here). 'Ve vill activate you ven ve haf need of you. It may be a year, it may be 10 years; it may be 40 years ... but ve vill. Vill you be ready? You vill remember ze password?'
'I vill, sorry will,' said Dai eagerly. He took the money, and returned to the little South Welsh village he called home.

Although he waited eagerly, the call never came.
Ten years, twenty, thirty ... until 1988, when a command came from Russian HQ to activate agent Dai Jones immediately! A Russian agent called Vladimir went by train to South Wales and headed for the little village where Dai Jones lived. He went to the phone book, only to find there were 2,476 Dai Joneses listed for the area. He scratched his head. Only one thing to do. He would go to the local pub, and try the password, until he found his man.

So, he headed off to the Black Lion and ordered a pint of Welsh. He saw a man standing alone at one end of the counter, and thought he might as well begin. Vlad sidled across to the solitary drinker, watching the crowd about him with cautious eyes.
'Nice evening,' said Vlad.
'Yes,' said the drinker.
'Is your name Jones?' asked Vlad.
'Yes,' said the drinker.
'Funny, isn't it,' said Vlad, '"the geese fly high over the wintry pond while the sun shines".'
The drinker tossed back his beer nonchalantly and said, 'It's not me you'll be wanting. You want Jones the spy, over by the window ...'