Mi blygaf ar fy neulin

Mi blygaf ar fy neulin,
  Wrth orsedd wen fy Iôr;
Mae croesaw i bererin
  Afradlon at Ei ddôr;
Er torri addunedau,
  Af at Ei borth drachefn;
Mae môr i gladdu beiau,
  Gan Dduw tu ôl i'w gefn.

Mae f'enaid yn llesmeirio,
  A di-amgyffred yw;
Pa le mae'r môr o ango'?
  Pa le mae cefn fy Nuw?
Mae bywyd yn Ei gariad,
  A chladdu yn Ei drefn;
Ac ni ddaw atgyfodiad
  I ddim tu ôl i'w gefn.

Anfeidrol fôr o haeddiant,
  Heb waelod, ac heb drai,
A gronnodd fôr maddeuant,
  I olchl'n llwyr fy mai;
Troseddau calon gyndyn,
  O gôf y ciliant hwy;
Ni chyfyd un i'm herbyn
  I dragwyddoldeb mwy.

I will bend my knees,
  Before the white throne of my Lord;
There is a welcome for a prodigal
  Pilgrim to His door;
Despite breaking vows,
  I will go back to His gate;
There is a sea to bury faults,
  By God behind his back.

My soul is fainting,
  And incomprehensible it is;
Where is the sea of forgetfulness?
  Where is my God's back?
There is life in His love,
  And burying behind Him;
And no resurrection will come
  For anything behind his back.

An infinite sea of merit,
  Without bottom, and without ebbing,
Which flowed in forgiveness,
  To wash completely my fault;
Transgressions of a stubborn heart,
  From memory they retreat;
Not one will rise against me
  For eternity any more.