Er cael mewn rhan wybodaeth ber

Er cael mewn rhan,
    wybodaeth ber,
Am gylch yr haul a llwybrau'r ser,
  'Dwy'n gwybod fawr
      am fyd sydd well,
  Tu hwnt i gaerau rhai'n ym mhell.

Mae meddwl am y nefol fro,
I mi'n ddiddanwch lawer tro;
  O na bae'r munud o fwynhâd,
  Dros oesoedd, mewn trag'wyddol wlad.

'Rwyf am gael profi dan fy mron,
Dystiolaeth o fy hawl yn hon;
  Cael rhan o'r gwynfyd
      pûr ddilyth,
  Digonedd, heb ddigoni byth.

Rhifedi'r sêr neu wlith y nen,
Rhif gwellt y maes,
    rhif gwallt fy mhen,
  Pe llïosogid hwynt ynnghyd,
  Y'nt ddim at oesoedd
      bythol fyd.

Nid ydyw rhai'n ond munud awr
Wrth oesoedd trag'wyddoldeb mawr;
  Tu fewn i'r annherfynol fan
  Byth cartre f'enaid yn y man.

Ond Oh! paham yr wyf mor ffol,
A chwenych aros yma'n ol?
  Ni wel y llesg
      ar lwybr llaith
  Byth yn rhy fuan ben ei daith.
David Thomas (Dafydd Ddu o Eryri) 1759-1822

Tonau [MH 8888]:
Celicia (<1876)
Green's Hundred (Rippon's Collection 1832)
Ulverston (<1845)

gwelir:
  Mae meddwl am y nefol fro
  Rhifedi'r gwlith neu ser y nen

Although getting as a portion,
    sweet knowledge,
Around the sun and the paths of the stars,
  I do not know much about
      a world that is better,
  Beyond those fortresses far.

Thinking about the heavenly region is
To me a comfort many a time;
  O that there were a minute of enjoyment,
  For ages, in an eternal land.

I want to get to experience under my breast,
Evidence of my right in this;
  To get a portion of the pure,
      unfailing blessedness,
  Sufficient, without ever being satisfied.

The sum of the stars or the dew of heaven,
The number of the grass of the field,
    the number of the hair of my head,
  If they were multiplied together,
  They would not reach the ages
      of an everlasting world.

There are only a single minute
Compared with the ages of great eternity;
  Within the infinite place
  Forever the home of my soul soon.

But Oh! why I am so foolish,
And long to stay behind here?
  The feeble does not see
      on the path of death
  Ever too soon his journey's end.
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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