Ond ofer ceisio gwynfyd llawn, Can's gwynfyd perffaith byth nis cawn, Nes cyrhaedd at ein Prynwr pur, A sengu ar y sanctaidd dir. 'Does dim o gylch yr awyr fry, Neu ynte oddeutu'r ddaear ddu; Dim, f'enaid, dim a lona ddyn; Neu dâl ei garu ond Duw ei hun. Ond teimlo ei hedd a'i fywiol ras, Yw'r nefoedd sy ar y ddaear las; A'm nefoedd fyth yn nef y nef, Fydd edrych yn ei wyneb Ef. Pa'm saif fy oriau draw mor bell, Cy'd, O fy Nuw, o'm dinas well? Hollted yr wybr fry uwch ben, I nodi'm ffordd i'r nefoedd wen. Fy Nuw, tôr y llinynau hyn, A'm cadwant wrth y clai mor dŷn; Rhyw angel cryf cymmered fi, I'm harwain tua'r nefoedd fry. Pan ddysgwyf 'nabod iaith y wlad, A phur ganiadau tŷ fy Nhad; Dechreuaf gân am farwol glwy, Na chlywir dîwedd arni mwy.William Williams 1717-91 Tonau [MH 8888]: Green's (<1811) Magdalene (<1835) gwelir: 'Does dim o gylch yr awyr fry |
It is only vain to seek full blessedness, Since perfect blessedness we may never have, Until arriving at our pure Redeemer, And standing on the sacred land. There is nothing about the sky above, Nor ever around the black earth; Nothing, my soul, nothing that cheers man, Or holds his love, but God himself. But feeling his peace and his lively grace, Is the heaven that is on the green earth; And my heaven forever in the heaven of heaven, Shall be to look upon his face. Why do my hours stand so far off, So long, O my God, from my better city? Let firmament up above be cleft, To mark my way to bright heaven. My God, cut these strings, That are keeping me so tightly to the clay; Let some strong angel take me, To lead me towards the heavens above. When I learn to recognise the language of the land, And pure songs of my Father's house; I shall begin a song about a mortal wound, The end of which shall nevermore be heard.tr. 2023 Richard B Gillion |
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