Mai

Gwn ei ddyfod, fis y mêl,
  Gyda'i firi yn yr helyg,
  Gyda'i flodau fel y barrug -
Gwyn fy myd bob tro y dêl.

Eis yn fore tua'r waen,
  Er mwyn gweld y gwlith ar wasgar,
  Ond yr oedd y gwersyll cynnar
Wedi codi o fy mlaen.

Eistedd wnes tan brennau'r Glog,
  Ar ddyfodiad y deheuwynt;
  Eden glas ddisgynnodd arnynt
Gan barablu enw'r gog.

Ni rois gam ar lawr y wig
  Heb fod clychau'r haf o tano,
  Fel diferion o ryw lasfro
Wedi disgyn rhwng y brig.

Gwn ei ddyfod, fis y mêl,
  Gyda'i firi, gyda'i flodau,
  Gyda dydd fy ngeni innau,
Gwyn fy myd bob tro y dêl.

I know its coming, the month of honey,
  With its merriment in the willow,
  With its flowers like the hoar-frost -
Blessed am I every time it comes.

I went in the morning towards the meadow
  In order to see the widespread dew,
  But the early camp had
Risen before me.

Sit I did under the woods of the Cliff
  At the coming of the south wind;
  Blue-green Eden descended upon them
With the uttering of the name of the cuckoo.

I took no step down the woodland
  Without blue bells beneath it,
  Like drippings of some blue vale
Having descended between the twigs.

I know its coming, the month of honey,
  With its merriment, with its flowers,
  With the day of my own birth,
Blessed am I every time it comes.