Er maint fy llygredd o bob rhyw

(Gorseddfaingc y gras)
Er maint fy llygredd
    o bob rhyw,
  Er cymmaint yw eu rhif,
Ac er fy nwyddau cyndyn chwith,
  Sy'n para fyth yn gryf.

Af at yr orsedd fel yr wyf,
  Anfeidrol orsedd gras,
Dadguddiaf yno 'nghlwyfau maith,
  A'm holl archollion cas.

Mi welaf lu anfeidrol wyn
  Yn aml fel y sêr,
A fu fel finnau oll yn frwnt,
  Yn bur yn nghwmni'm Ner.

Wel, minnau'r eiddil gwana'i lun,
  Heb ddim ond ffiaidd friw,
Anturiaf at drysorau'r nef,
  Cyfiawnder pur fy Nuw.

    Afon loyw redodd allan,
    O dan drothwy'r
        nef ei hunan,
    I olchi'r euog,
        i olchi'r aflan;
      Haleluiah, Haleluiah,
    Dwfr heb ddarfod,
        dwfr heb drai.

             - - - - -

Er maint fy llygredd
    o bob rhyw,
  Er cymaint yw eu rhif,
Ac er fy nwydau cyndyn chwith,
  Sy'n para fyth yn gryf;

    Afon loyw redodd allan,
    O tan drothwy'r
        nef ei hunan,
    I olchi'r euog,
        i olchi'r aflan;
      Haleluia, Haleluia,
    Dwfr heb ddarfod,
        dwfr heb drai.

Af at yr orsedd fel yr wyf,
  Anfeidrol orsedd gras,
Datguddiaf yno nghlwyfau maith,
  A'm holl archollion cas:
    Afon loyw, &c.

Mi welaf lu anfeidrol wyn,
  Yn aml fel y ser,
Ag fu fel finau oll yn frwnt,
  Yn bur yn nghwmni'm Ner:
    Afon loyw, &c.

Wel finau'r eiddil gwana' ei lun, 
  Heb ddim ond ffiaidd friw,
Anturiaf at drysorau'r nef,
  Cyfiawnder pur fy Nuw:
    Afon loyw, &c.
William Williams 1717-91

Tôn [8686+88447]: Ashley (Martin Madan 1725-90)

Tôn [8686]: Winchester Old (Sallwyr Este 1592)

gwelir:
  Af at yr orsedd fel yr wyf
  Mi welaf lu anfeidrol wyn
  Nid oes o fewn i mi i gyd
  O tyred Arglwydd saif wrth raid
  Wel dyma gyfoeth gwerthfawr llawn

(Gorseddfaingc y gras)
Despite how great my corruption
    of every kind,
  Despite how many are their number
And despite my stubborn, awkward lusts,
  Which continue forever strong.

I will go to the throne as I am,
  The immeasurable throne of grace,
I will reveal there my vast diseases,
  And all my detestable wounds.

I see an immeasurable white host
  Numerous as the stars,
That were like I all filthy,
  Pure in my Master's company.

See me, the feeble, weakest-looking,
  With nothing but an awful wound,
I will venture to the treasures of heaven,
  The pure righteousnes of my God.

    A bright river that ran out,
    From under the threshold
        of heaven itself,
    To wash the guilty,
        to wash the filthy;
      Halelujah, Halelujah,
    Water without failing,
        water without ebbing.

                - - - - -

Despite how great my corruption
    of every kind,
  Despite how many their number,
And despite my stubborn, awkward lusts,
  That endure forever strong;

    A bright river that ran out,
    From under the threshold
        of heaven itself,
    To wash the guilty,
        to wash the filthy;
      Hallelujah, hallelujah,
    Water without failing,
        water without ebbing.

I will go to the throne as I am,
  The immeasurable throne of grace,
I will reveal there my vast diseases,
  And all my detestable wounds.
    A bright river, etc.

I see an immeasurable white host,
  Numerous as the stars,
Who were like I all filthy,
  Pure in the company of my Master:
    A bright river, etc.

See me, the feeble, weakest-looking,
  With nothing but an awful wound,
I will venture to the treasures of heaven,
  The pure righteousness of my God:
    A bright river, etc.
tr. 2019 Richard B Gillion

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

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