Ehengodd fy nghalon 'dwy'n deall pa fodd

(Nefoedd)
Ehengodd fy nghalon,
    'dwy'n deall pa fodd,
'Does dim ar y ddaear
    wna bellach fy modd,
  Fy ysbryd amcana
      ond hynny tr'wy byw,
  At bethau tragwyddol
      yn mynwes fy Nuw.

Yr ardal mae'r dyrfa
    bwrcasodd y gwaed,
Yn hyfryd yn edrych,
    yn wyneb fy Nhâd,
  Mil myrdd o delynau
      aur melyn eu gyd,
  Yn canu heb flino
      i Brynwr y byd.

A heibio rai oriau,
    daw utgorn o'r ne',
Caf alwad o'r daear
    i symud fy lle,
  Fe dorrir y carchar,
     a'm henaid yn rhydd,
  Fe'm dugir i'r ardal
     mae'n wastad yn ddydd.

Ac yno caf aros
    heb archoll na chlwy,
Mewn gwledydd heb 'storom
    na chymwl byth mwy;
  'Ddaw ofn na gofid
      na phechod i blith,
  Trigolion fy ninas
      sancteiddiol i byth.

Caf gyda'm Hanwylyd
    deyrnasu mewn hedd,
Ymhell uwch cyrrhaeddiad
    holl ddychryn y bedd,
  Cawn wisgo coronau
      filiwnau ynghyd,
  A chanmawl fyth fythoedd
      Iachawdwr y byd.
William Williams 1717-91

Tôn [11.11.11.11]: Geard (Thomas Walker)

gwelir:
  Mae'n bryd i ni ganu ni gawsom y fraint

(Heaven)
My heart broadened,
    I do not understand how,
There is nothing on the earth
    which does satisfy me henceforth,
  My spirit purposes
      But this while ever I live,
  For things eternal
      in the breast of my God.

In a region where is the throng
    the blood purchased,
Delightfully looking,
    in the face of my Father,
  A thousand myriad of harps
      of yellow gold altogether,
  Singing without wearying
      to the Redeemer of the world.

Some hours go past,
    the trumpet comes from heaven,
I get a call from the earth
    to move my place,
  The prison is to be broken,
      and my soul free,
  It is to be led to the region
      where it is constantly day.

And there I will get to abide
    without wound or illness,
In lands without a storm
    or cloud for evermore;
  No fear will come, nor grief,
      nor sin in the midst,
  Of the inhabitants of my sacred
      city for ever.

I will get with my Beloved
    to reign in peace,
Far above the reach
    of all the corruption of the grave,
  We will get to wear crowns
      millions together,
  And praise forever and ever
      the Saviour of the world.
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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