Dyma'r byd y mae taranau

1,2,3,4,5,6,7;  1,2,4.
(Tragwyddoldeb)
Dyma'r byd
    y mae taranau,
  Mellt, a chenllysg, daear-grỳn:
Yn y wlad 'r wy'n myned iddi
  Nis câf weled yno'r un;
Mynych ceir cystuddiau yma,
  Rhagluniaethau chwerwon iawn,
Tòn ar ôl y llall yn rhuo
  O foreuddydd hyd brydnawn.

Disgwyl pethau gwych i ddyfod,
  Croes i hyny maent yn d'od;
Meddwl 'fory daw gorfoledd,
  'Fory'r tristwch mwya' erioed;
Meddwl byw, ac eto marw
  Yw'r lleferydd dàn fy mron:
Bob yn ronyn, mi ro'f ffàrwel -
  Ffàrwel glân, i'r ddaear hon.

Trof fy llygaid oddi amgylch,
  P'le caf bleser dan yr haul?
Os a' i garu un creadur
  Megys pe na bai ei ail,
Hwnw'n fuan ddiangc arnaf,
  Neu myfi oddi arno ef;
Ni chaf bleser a gydgerddo
  A mi'n unlle dan y nef.

Tragwyddoldeb! mawr yw d'enw,
  Ti mae'n ddiau yw fy lle;
Huriwr un dïwrnod ydwyf,
  Fry mae'm cartref yn y ne':
Mae'm diwrnod bron a gorphen,
  Mae fy haul bron myn'd i lawr;
Mae pob awel yn fy chwythu
  Tua'r tragwyddoldeb mawr.

'Rwyf yn foddlawn iawn i ymado,
  Trefna'r awr, a threfna'r man,
Ond yn ymchwydd yr Iorddonen
  Dal fy ysbryd llesg i'r lan;
N'ad fi soddi yn y tonau
  Pan bo angeu'n fawr ei rym,
'Mafael ynof yn dy freichiau,
  Na'd i'm henaid ofni dim.

P'am'r ymafael tristwch ynof
  Wrth fyfyrio am ado'r byd?
Pechod a chystuddiau duon
  Welais ynddo oll i gyd;
Ni ddaeth hanner fy nisgwyliad
  Yma etto erioed i ben;
O! na wnaethwn yn foreuach
  Fy nghartrefle uwch y nen!

Mae 'nghyfeillion wedi myned
  Draw yn lluoedd o fy mlaen,
Rhai fu'n myn'd trwy ddyffryn Bacca
  Gyda mi tua Salem lân:
Yn y dyffryn tywyll, garw,
  Ffydd i'r lan a'u daliodd hwy;
Mae'r addewid lawn i minnau;
  Pam yr ofna'm henaid mwy mwy?
William Williams 1717-91
Môr o Wydr 1762

Tonau [8787D]:
Bohemia (Darmstädter Gesangbuch 1698)
Eifionydd (J Ambrose Lloyd 1815-74)
Tanycastell (John Jones 1796-1857)
Trefaldwyn (John Owen 1821-83)

gwelir:
  O am nerth i dreulio 'nyddiau
  Cofia f'enaid cyn it' dreulio
  Dyn dyeithr ydwyf yma
  Dysgwyl pethau gwych i ddyfod
  Ffarwel i chwi gynt a gerais
  Gair o bwys yw Trag'wyddoldeb
  Mae nghyfeillion wedi myned
  Mae'r anialwch wedi mlino
  O Iachawdwr pechaduriaid
  O ynfydrwydd! O ffolineb
  Pa fodd yr âf i trwy'r Iorddonen?
  Pam y caiff bwystfilod rheibus?
  'R wyf yn foddlawn iawn i ymado
  Trag'wyddoldeb mawr yw d'enw

(Eternity)
Here is the world where
    there is thundering,
  Lightening, and hail, earth-quake:
In the land I am going to
  I shall not see any there;
Often afflictions are to be had here,
  Very bitter provisions,
Waves one after another roaring
  From morning until evening.

Expecting wonderful things to come,
  Contrary to this they are coming;
Thinking tomorrow rejoicing shall come,
  Tomorrow the greatest sadness ever;
Thinking living, and yet dying
  Is the utterance under my breast:
Every moment, I will bid farewell -
  Farewell completely, to this earth.

I turn my eyes from round about,
  Where may I get pleasure under the sun?
If i go to love any creature
  As if there were none like it,
That would soon escape from me,
  Or I from it;
I shall get no pleasure that will accompany
  Me anywhere under heaven.

Eternity! great is thy name,
  Thou, 'tis doubtless, art my place;
A daily hireling am I,
  Above is my home in heaven:
The day has almost finished,
  The sun has almost gone down;
Every breeze is blowing me
  Towards the great eternity.

I am very willing to leave,
  Arrange the hour, and arrange the place,
But in the swelling of the Jordan
  Hold my feeble spirit up;
Do not let me sing in the waves
  When death comes with its great force,
Grasp me in thy arms,
  Do not let me fear anything.

Why does sadness take hold of me
  While meditating on leaving the world?
Sin and black afflictions
  All I saw in it altogether;
Not even half my expectations came
  Here ever yet came to pass;
O that I would make sooner
  My home above the sky!

My companions have gone
  Yonder as hosts before me,
Some went through the vale of Bacca
  With me towards holy Salem:
In the dark, rough vale,
  'Twas faith that held them up:
The full promise is for me too;
  Why shall I my soul fear any more?
tr. 2018 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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