Yr Arglwydd sydd yn maddeu

Yr Arglwydd sydd yn maddeu,
  Bechodau rhif y gwlith;
'Does mesur ar ei gariad,
  Na therfyn iddo byth;
Mae'n chwilio am le i achub,
  Mae'n hoffi trugarâu;
Trugaredd i'r ymddifad,
  Sydd ynddo i barâu.

Os gwelir fi bechadur,
  Rhyw ddydd ar ben fy nhaith,
Rhyfeddol fydd y canu,
  A newydd fydd yr iaith;
Yn seinio buddugoliaeth,
  Am iechydwriaeth lawn;
Heb ofni colli'r frwydr,
  Yw bore na'r prydnawn.

gwelir:
  Os gwelir fi bechadur
  Trugaredd drefnodd Geidwad

The Lord is forgiving
  Sins as numerous as the dew;
There is no measure to his love,
  Nor limit to it ever;
He is seeking for a place to save,
  He is loving showing mercy;
Mercy to the defenceless,
  Is within him enduringly.

If I, a sinner, am to be seen,
  Some day at the end of my journey,
Wonderful it shall be to sing,
  And new shall be the language;
Sounding victory,
  For full salvation;
Without fearing losing the battle,
  In the morning nor in the evening.