Cân fy nhafod am yr ornest

Rhan I
(Pange lingua gloriosi proelium certaminis / Sing my tongue the glorious battle)

Cân, fy nhafod, am yr ornest,
  Gornest ogoneddus iawn;
Ac uwch arwydd Croes yr Iesu
  Bloeddia'r fuddugoliaeth lawn;
Ceidwad byd a'i rhoes ei hunan,
  Gan orchfygu un prynhawn.

Duw, pan dwyllwyd
    gynt ein cyndad,
  O'i dosturi dwfn at ddyn,
Pryd y profai'r ffrwyth niweidiol,
  Gan ddwyn angau arno'i hun,
Ebrywdd drefnai'r Groes i wella
  Drygau'r marwol
      bren bob un.

Gwaith ein hiachawdwriaeth drefnai
  Arfaeth nef,
      y lle a'r awr,
Dyfais Duw a
    lwyr ddymchwelai
  Dwyll y temtiwr oll i lawr,
Ac fe ddygai falm i'r clwyfau
  Gawsom gan ein gelyn mawr.

Pan o'r diwedd daeth cyflawnder
  Amser gosodedig Duw,
Wedi'i anfon oddi uchod
  Ganed Ceidwad dynol-ryw,
Ac o Fair Fendigaid Forwyn
  Gyda ni y daeth i fyw.
cyf. William Morgan (Penfro) 1846-1918

Tonau [878787]:
Oriel (Cantica Sacra 1840)
Pange Lingua Gloriosi (Vatican Graduale)
Tantum Ergo (alaw Ffrengig)

gwelir: Rhan II - Wedi treulio deg ar hugain

Sing, my tongue, about the contest,
  The very glorious contest;
And above the sign of the cross of Jesus
  Shout the full victory;
The Saviour of the world who gave himself,
  Thus overcoming one afternoon.

God, when our forefather
    was deceived of old,
  Of his deep mercy towards man,
When he tasted the harmful fruit,
  Thus taking death upon himself,
Speedily planned the Cross to heal
  The evils of the mortal
      tree of every one.

The work of our salvation the purpose
  Of heaven was planning,
      the place and the hour,
The scheme of God that would
    completely bring down
  The deception of the tempter to ruin,
And he brought the balm for the wounds
  We got from our great enemy.

When at last came the fullness
  Of God's set time,
Having been sent from above
  The Saviour of human-kind ws born,
And from the Blessed Virgin Mary
  With us he came to live.
tr. 2017 Richard B Gillion
Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle,
  Sing the ending of the fray;
Now above the cross, the trophy,
  Sound the loud triumphant lay:
Tell how Christ the world’s Redeemer,
  As a victim won the day.

He, our maker,
   deeply grieving
  That the first made Adam fell,
When he ate the fruit forbidden
  Whose reward was death and hell,
Marked e'en then this tree the ruin
  Of the first tree
      to dispel.










Tell how, when at length the fullness,
  Of th'appointed time was come,
Christ, the Word, was born of woman,
  Left for us His heavenly home;
Showed us human life made perfect,
  Shone as light amid the gloom.
tr. 1931 P Dearmer 1867-1936 & J M Neale 1818-66
from the Latin
Pange lingua gloriosi proelium certaminis

Tune [878787]: Picardy (French Carol, C17th.)

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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