Ni welwn ben ein siwrnai

Ni welwn ben ein siwrnai;
  Aeth miloedd yn y blaen,
Ar hyd prif ffordd y Brenin,
  Trwy ganol dŵr a thân;
Mae adsain yn ein clustiau
  O ryw aneirif lu
Yn chware'u haur delynau
  O fewn i Seion fry.

Mae Salem heb ei llanw,
  Mae'n rhaid cael llwythau 'nghyd,
Pob rhyw ac iaith o bobl
  O bedwar gwynt y byd;
Daw tlodion, ac efryddion,
  A gwywedigion gwan,
Finteioedd heb eu rhifo,
  I Seion yn y man.

gwelir: Mae Salem heb ei llanw

We see the end of our journey;
  Thousands went before,
Along the King's highway,
  Through the midst of water and fire;
The echo is in our ears
  Of some innumerable host
Playing their golden harps
  Within Zion above.

Salem is unfilled,
  There is need to get tribes together,
Every sort and language of people
  From the four winds of the world;
Poor ones shall come, and lame ones,
  And weak withered ones,
Hoards without their being numbered,
  To Zion soon.