Mi welaf fyrdd yr ochor draw O rai a 'maflodd yn ei law, Yn canu heddiw'n beraidd iawn; Mae ofnau'n darfod yn y wlad Lle mae fy Nuw, lle mae fy Nhad, Ac yn eu lle lawenydd llawn. O! hyfryd ddedwydd nefol le, O! gwyn eu byd sydd ynddo fe - Y ddinas ddisglair nefol glir; Y man ni bu, y man nid oes Na phoen nac ing na gwae na loes, Ond heddwch llawn a chariad pur. A thyma'r wlad y ffy pob gradd, O'r ofnau mawrion sy am fy lladd 'Ddaw aeth nac arswyd yno ddim; Y gelynion sy yma yn y byd, A rwymir y pryd hyny 'nghyd, Er maint eu rhwysg er maint eu grym. 'Ddaw anghrediniaeth cadarn cry', Fyth, fyth o fewn i'r Ganaan fry, Na chariad chwerw cās y byd; A miloedd mwy gynddeiriog radd, Sydd yn yr anial bron fy lladd, Yn 'sgubau rhwymir yno 'nghyd. O! gwyn eu byd sydd :: Gwynfyd bob rhai sydd ni bu, y man nid oes :: na fu, y man nad oes
Tonau [888D]: |
I see a myriad on the far side Of those who grasped his hand, Singing today very sweetly; Fears are vanishing in the land Where my God is, where my Father is, And in their place full joy. O delightful, happy, heavenly place, O blessed are those who are in it - The clear, shining, heavenly city; The spot without, the spot with neither Pain nor pang nor woe nor anguish, But full peace and pure love. And here is the land where all degrees flee, From the great fears which want to kill me No grief or horror shall come there at all; The enemies which are here in the world, Are to be bound at that time altogether, Despite their boast, despite their force. Let firm, strong unbelief never, Ever come within the Canaan above, Nor the bitter, hateful love of the world; A thousands of a more furious degree, Are in the desert almost killing me, As sheaves to be bound there together. O blessed are they who :: Blessed all those who :: tr. 2009,17 Richard B Gillion |
I see them in that other land The multitude within his hand Rejoicing all in sweetest song In that abode all care shall cease Where God my Father reigns in peace And joy shall be, the whole day long. O happy, heavenly, land, so fair How blest are they who enter there That shining city, set above Where never was, nor e'er shall be Pain, anguish, woe, or misery But perfect peace, and purest love.
tr. M J H Ellis (Monti) Tune [888D]: Pen Ucha |