Amdanat wlad anwylaf

For thee O dear dear country

Amdanat wlad anwylaf,
    edrycha'm llygaid i,
Pan glywaf ond dy enwi,
    fe rêd fy ngagrau'n lli;
  Crybwylliad am d'ogoniant,
      eineiniad yw i'm bron,
  Ac iechyd i'm mewn cystudd,
      gwna'm calon drist yn llon.

O un, o unig drigfan,
    paradwys lawn o swyn,
Lle sychir fy holl ddagrau,
    byth gan fy Arglwydd mwyn;
  Y groes yw'th holl ogoniant,
      a'r Iesu yw dy gân,
  Ei glodydd a'i fendithion
      a seinia'r dyrfa lân.

Jerusalem, or-ddisglaer,
    gogoniant teulu Duw,
O anwyl weledigaeth,
    fy nghalon it' sydd fyw;
  Yn awr, trwy ffydd fe'th welaf,
      dy furiau'n eglur sydd;
  Am gael o fewn dy gaerau,
      hiraethaf nos a dydd.

Jerusalem, or-euraidd,
    o laeth a mel yn lli,
Dan swyn dy holl brydferthion,
    llesmeiria 'nghalon i,
  Nis gall un tafod dreaethu
      y gwynfyd ynot sydd,
  Tu hwnt i bob cymhariaeth,
      d'ogoniant byth a fydd.

O fewn dy hardd gynteddoedd
    saif tyrfa, bêr ei chân,
Yn ddisglaer gan angelion,
    a chan ferthyron glân;
  Y Brenin driga ynot -
      goleuni dydd heb len,
  A gwleddoedd o fwynianau,
      'rhai byth ni ddont i ben.

Ceir ynot orsedd Dafydd,
    a'i deiliaid oll yn rhydd,
Sain cân y llu buddugol -
    bloedd o orfoledd fydd;
  Y milwyr a'r Cad-lywydd
      gadd ben y ddraig i lawr,
  A wisgir yn dragwyddol
      â mentyll gwỳn eu gwawr.
cyf. T Jones Humphries 1841-1934

[Mesur: 7676D]

gwelir:
  Caersalem ddinas euraid
  Ierusalem oreurog
  O anwyl gartre' nefol
  O Sion ddinas euraidd

For thee most beloved land,
    my eyes will look,
When I hear but thy naming,
    my tears run as a stream;
  The mention of thy glory,
      an anointing is to my breast,
  With health to me in affliction,
      it makes my sad heart cheerful.

From one, only dwelling,
    paradise full of charm,
Where all my tears are to be dried,
    forever by my gentle Lord;
  The cross is all thy glory,
      and Jesus is thy song,
  His praises and his blessing
      the holy throng shall sound.

Jerusalem, exceedingly shining,
    the glory of God's family,
O beloved vision,
    my heart to thee is alive;
  Now, through faith I see thee,
      thy walls are clear;
  To get within thy citadels,
      I long night and day.

Jerusalem, exceedingly golden,
    of milk and honey a stream,
Under the charm of all thy beauties,
    my heart swoons,
  Not one tongue can expound
      the blessedness which is in thee,
  Beyond all comparison,
      thy glory forever shall be.

Within thy fine courts
    stands a crowd, with a sweet song,
Shining with angels,
    and with holy martyrs;
  The King dwells in thee -
      the light of day without a veil,
  And feasts of enjoyments,
      those never shall come to an end.

In thee is found the throne of David,
    with its adherents all free,
The sound of the song of a victorious host -
    a shout of jubilation there shall be;
  The soldiers and the Captain
      who got the head of the dragon down,
  Shall be dressed eternally
      with cloaks white their dawn.
tr. 2016 Richard B Gillion
For thee, O dear, dear country,
  Mine eyes their vigils keep;
For very love, beholding,
  Thy happy name, they weep:
The mention of thy glory
  Is unction to the breast,
And medicine in sickness,
  And love, and life, and rest.

O one, O only mansion!
  O paradise of joy!
Where tears are ever banished,
  And smiles have no alloy;
The cross is all thy splendor,
  The Crucified thy praise,
His laud and benediction
  Thy ransomed people raise.










Jerusalem, the golden,
  With milk and honey blest!
Beneath thy contemplation
  Sink heart and voice oppressed.
I know not, oh, I know not
  What social joys are there,
What radiancy of glory,
  What light beyond compare.

They stand, those halls of Zion,
  All jubilant with song,
And bright with many an angel,
  And all the martyr throng;
The Prince is ever in them,
  The daylight is serene.
The pastures of the blessèd
   Are decked in glorious sheen.

Oh, sweet and blessed country!
  Shall I e'er see thy face?
Oh, sweet and blessed country!
  Shall I e'er win thy grace ? -
Exult, oh, dust and ashes!
  The Lord shall be thy part;
His only, his forever,
  Thou shalt be, and thou art!
John Mason Neale 1818-66
from the Latin

Urbs Sion aurea
Bernard of Morlaix/Cluny

Tune [7676D]: Ewing (Alexander Ewing 1830-95)

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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