Y Blodeuyn Olaf

I ble flodeuyn hardd?

(Y Bladeuyn Olaf)
I ble, flodeuyn hardd,
Yr aeth holl flodau'r ardd?
Nid oes yr un a chwardd
      Ger bron.
Mae anian oll yn brudd,
A'r llwydrew ar ei grudd,
A thi yn unig sydd
      Yn llon.

Mi welaf yn dy wawr
Ryw ddrych o olaf awr
Y sant ar ado'r llawr
      I'r nef.
Bydd pawb yr adeg hon
Yn wylo ger ei fron,
Ni bydd yr un yn llon
      Ond ef.

Mae gwel'd dy wenau di
Yn dwyn ar gof i mi
Y Gwr fu ar Galfari,
      Fy Nuw.
Pan gilio pawb mewn braw,
Caf help ei gadarn law,
I'm dwyn i'r nefoedd draw
      I fyw.

William Ambrose (Emrys) 1813-73

(The Last Flower)
To where, beautiful flower,
Did all the beautiful flowers go?
There is none that laughs
      Near by.
All nature is sad,
With the must on its cheek,
And thou alone who art
      Cheerful.

I see in thy dawn
Some image of the last hour
Of the saints about to leave the earth
      For heaven.
All shall be at that time
Weeping before him,
Not one shall be cheerful
      But he.

Seeing thy smiles is
Recalling for me
The Man who was on Calvary,
      My God.
When all retreat in terror,
I shall get the help of his firm hand,
To bring me to yonder heaven
      To live.

tr. 2016 Richard B Gillion

The middle column is a literal translation of the Welsh. A Welsh translation is identified by the abbreviation 'cyf.', an English translation by 'tr.'

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