Diwedd y Cynhaeaf

Tymhorau ehedant,
A blodau a wywant,
A dail a orweddant
  Ar hyd y llawr;
Medelwyr a ganant,
Ŷd aeddfed a gludant,
Adar ehedant
  Dros y môr mawr.

Ar frys daw'r llym Aaea',
Ei wynt a ysgythra,
Pob peth o'i flaen rwyga,
  Daw'n dywydd du;
Wrth dân goleuedig
O friwydd o'r goedwig
Bydd sionc a methedig
  Yn llechu'n tŷ.

Ar fyr yr ymlithra
Fel hyn yr oes hwya',
Fe dderfydd yr yrfa,
  Gwywa'r hardd wedd;
Dy Wanwyn di ddarfu,
Mae d'Haf dithau i fyny,
Down toc i aeafu
  I dŷ y bedd.

Seasons fly,
And flowers wilt,
And leaves lie
  Along the ground;
Reapers sing,
Mature corn they transport,
Birds fly
  Across the great sea.

Hurriedly comes the sharp Winter,
Its wind carves,
Everything before it it will rend,
  It will black weather;
By a fire lighted
From brushwood from the woodland
Shall nimble and infirm
  Lurk in a house.

Shortly shall slide
Thus the latest age,
The career will pass away,
  Wither shall the beautiful countenance;
Thy Spring has passed away,
Thy Summer is up,
We shall come soon to grow wintry
  To the house of the grave.