Daeth teg bechadures yn wylaidd ei gwedd

(Mair Magdalen)
Daeth teg bechadures yn wylaidd ei gwedd,
I'r ty lle'r oedd Iesu,
    i stafell y wledd;
  Nid gwychder y neuadd
      a'i denai yn awr,
  Wrth draed y Gwaredwr
      y syrthiodd i lawr.

    O! ddyfnder trugaredd
        Gwaredwr y byd!
    Maddeuodd i Mair, mae yn maddeu o hyd.

Y gwahoddedigion edrychent mewn gŵg -
Halogi'r ystafell gan wraig
    oedd mor ddrwg;
  Cenfigen a lanwai'u calonau yn awr,
  Heb weled yr aberth
      wnai cariad mor fawr.

Ni welid, ni chlywid, ond Iesu gan hon,
Ei dagrau lefarai
    ddwys deimlad ei bron;
  Ni fynai gyfodi
      ei golwg o'r llawr,
  I nefoedd ei lygaid - i burdeb mor fawr.

Yn berwi gan gariad yr Iesu'r oedd hi,
Dros ei gruddiau'r ymderiglai
    ei dagrau yn lli',
  Ei mynwes yn llawn, a'i gwefusau ynghyd
  Yn gwasgu sandalau
      Gwaredwr y byd.

Yr Iesu droes ati
    yn raslawn ei wedd,
Fel haul ar yr eira,
    fel enfys yr hedd,
  Ei haml bechodau faddeuoedd efe,
  A Mair a aeth allan
      yn harddwch y ne'.
efel. (a'r Gydgan) John Roberts (Ieuan Gwyllt) 1822-77
(Mary Magdalen)
The fair sinner came, her face reverent,
To the house where Jesus was,
    to the room of the feast;
  Not the brilliance of the hall
      was attracting her now,
  At the feet of the Deliverer
      she fell down.

    O the depths of the mercy
        of the Deliverer of the world!
    He forgave Mary, he is forgiving still.

The guests looked with a frown -
Defiling the room by a woman
    who was so evil;
  Jealousy would fill their hearts now,
  Without seeing the sacrifice,
      that love would make, so great.

Not seen, not heard, but Jesus by this,
Her tears would speak
    the intense feeling of her breast;
  She would not insist on lifting
      her sight from the floor,
  To heaven here eyes - to purity so great.

Boiling with the love of Jesus she was,
Across her cheeks would run
    her tears as a flood,
  Her bosom full, and her lips together
  Pressing the sandals
      of the Deliverer of the world.

Jesus turned towards her,
    his face gracious,
Like sun on the snow,
    like the rainbow of peace,
  Her manifold sins he forgave,
  And Mary went out
      in the beauty of heaven.
tr. 2016 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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