Os edrych wnaf i'r dwyrain draw, Os edrych wnaf i'r de'; Yn mhlith a fu, neu ynte ddaw, Does debyg iddo 'Fe. Ni fedda'i ar y ddaear fawr, Ni feddaf yn y ne'; Neb ag a bery'n anwyl im'; Yn unig ond Efe. Mae ynddo'i hunan drysor mwy, Nag fedd yr India lawn: Fe brynodd i mi fwy na'r byd, Ar groesbren un prydnawn. 'Does genyf mwy ond Duw yn Dad, Yn erbyn pob rhyw wae; 'Does genyf ond ei gariad rhad, Yn sylfaen i barhau. O na allwn rodio er ei glod, Ac iddo bellach fyw; A phob anadliad fyn'd i maes I ganmol gras fy Nuw. - - - - - Os edrych wnaf i'r dwyrain draw, Os edrych wnaf i'r de'; Yn mhlith y fu, neu ynte ddaw, 'Does debyg iddo fe. Fe rodd ei ddwylaw pur ar led, Fe wisgodd goron ddrain, Er mwyn i'r brwnt gael bod yn wyn Fel hyfryd liain main. Esgynodd fry i entrych nef, I eiriol dros y gwan, Ac yno gwrendy'n rhyfedd fwyn, Pan elo'n cwyn i'r lan. Drachefn fe ddaw o'r nef ryw bryd, Pan elo'r byd ar dân, A gweled gawn ei hyfryd wedd, Mil harddach nag o'r blaen.William Williams 1717-91
Tonau [MC 8686]: gwelir: Agorwyd pyrth y nefoedd wen 'Dyw'n ofni'r bedd 'dwy'n ofni'r groes Mi dafla' 'maich oddi ar fy ngwar Na foed fy mywyd bellach mwy Pan byddo f'Arglwydd imi'n rhoi 'Rwy'n ffrynd i'r bedd 'rwy'n ffrynd i'r groes |
I look I do to the far east, If look I do to the south; Amongst what was, or what is to come, There is nothing similar to Him. I do not possess on the great earth, I do not possess in heaven; Anyone who will continue dear to me; Except Him alone. In him himself there is greater treasure, Than full India possesses: He purchased for me more than the world, On the cross one afternoon. I have henceforth none but God as Father, Against every kind of woe; I have nothing but his free love, As a foundation to endure. Oh, that I could walk for his praise, And to him henceforth live; And every breath go out To sing praise to the grace of my God. - - - - - I look I do to the far east, If look I do to the south; Amongst what was, or what is to come, There is nothing similar to Him. He put out his pure hands wide, He wore a crown of thorns, For the sake of the filthy to get to be white Like delightful fine linen. He ascended up to the vault of heaven, To intercede for the weak, And there he will listen wonderfully tenderly, When our complaint goes up. He will come again from heaven some time, When the world goes on fire, And to see we shall get his delightful face, A thousand times more beautiful than before.tr. 2015,16 Richard B Gillion |
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