Mae'r ffynnon yn agored

(Pob peth yn barod)
Mae'r ffynnon yn agored,
  Dowch edifeiriol rai:
Dowch chwithau yr un ffunyd,
  Sy'n methu 'difarhâu:
Dowch a ga'dd galon newydd,
  Dowch chwithau na cha'dd 'r un,
I olchi'ch ffiaidd feiau,
  Yn haeddiant Mab y Dyn.

Dowch bechaduriaid bellach,
  Na's gwelodd oleu'r dydd,
Mewn carchar tywyll pygddu,
  Yn methu myn'd yn rhydd;
Fe gododd haul o'r diwedd
  Yn ddisglaer y prydnawn,
A egyr eich amrantau
  I wel'd yn eglur iawn.

Fe rwygwyd muriau cedyrn
  Fe dorwyd dorau pres,
Oedd rhyngom ni a'r bywyd,
  Mae'r bywyd heddyw'n nes;
Palmantwyd yr holl lwybrau,
  Mae'r pyrth yn rhydd yn awr,
O ddyfnder dinas distryw
  I eitha'r nefoedd fawr.

Dymuno'r wyf i dreulio
  Fy amser yn y byd,
Bob dydd, bob awr, bob munud,
  I'th ganmol di o hyd;
I mi y perthyn diolch,
  Hyd byth i Iesu Grist,
Am achub f'enaid gwirion
  O ddyfnder uffern drist.

           - - - - -

Mae'r ffynnon yn agored;
  De'wch, edifeiriol rai;
De'wch chwithau, yr un ffunud,
  Sy'n methu edifarhau;
De'wch, gafodd galon newydd,
  De'wch chwithau na cha'dd un,
I olchi pob budreddi 
  Yn haeddiant Mab y dyn.

O! Iachawdwriaeth gadarn,
  O! Iachawdwriaeth glir;
Fu dyfais o'i chyff'elyb
  Erioed ar fôr na thir:
Mae yma ryw ddirgelion,
  Rhy ddyrys y'nt i ddyn,
Ac nid oes all eu dadrys
  Ond Duwdod mawr Ei Hun.

'D oes unpeth ennyn gariad
  Yn fflam angerddol gref,
Addewid neu orchymyn,
  Fel Ei ddioddefaint Ef;
Pan rh'odd Ei fywyd drosom,
  'Beth all Ef ballu mwy?
Mae myrdd o drugareddau
  Difesur yn Ei glwy'.

O! râs didrai, diderfyn,
  Tragwyddol ei barhâd!
Yn nghlwyfau'r Oen fu farw
  Yn unig mae iachâd;
Iachâd oddi wrth euogrwydd, 
  Iachâd o ofnau'r bedd;
A chariad wedi ei wreiddio
  Ar sail tragwyddol hedd.
Dowch chwithau yr un :: A chwithau yr un
yr un ffunydd :: i'r un ffynnon

William Williams 1717-91
Bywyd a Marwolaeth Theomemphus 1764

Tonau [7676D]:
Esay (<1835)
Grafenberg (Hans Kugelmann c.1495-1542)
Deuwch ataf Fi / Venite ad Me (Joseph Barnby 1838-96)
Potsdam (<1829)

gwelir:
  Ac yna adgyfododd
  Dewch bechaduriaid bellach
  De'wch bellach bechaduriaid
  Mi ganaf tra fo anadl
  O iechydwriaeth gadarn
  O Yspryd pur nefolaidd
  Pa le dechreuaf ganu

(All things are ready)
The well is opened,
  Come ye repentant ones:
Come ye also the same minute,
  Who are failing to repent:
Come ye who got a new heart,
  Come ye also who never got one,
To wash your detestable faults,
  In the merit of the Son of Man.

Come ye sinners henceforth,
  Who never saw the light of day,
In a dark, pitch-black prison,
  Failing to go free;
A sun has risen at last
  Shining in the afternoon,
Which shall open your eyelids
  To see very clearly.

Firm walls were rent
  Brass doors were broken,
Which were between us and the life,
  The life is nearer today;
All the paths were paved,
  The gates are now free,
From the depth of the city of destruction
  To the extremity of the great heavens.

Wishing I am to spend
  My time in the world,
Every day, every hour, every minute,
  To praise thee always;
For me praise shall belong
  Forever to Jesus Christ,
For saving my foolish soul
  From the depth of sad hell.

                - - - - -

The well is opened;
  Come ye, repentant ones;
Come ye also, the same minute,
  Who are failing to repent;
Come ye, who got a new heart,
  Come ye also who didn't get one,
To wash all pollution
  In the merit of the Son of man.

O firm Salvation,
  O clear Salvation;
Never was such a scheme
  Ever on sea or land:
Here are some secrets,
  Too puzzling they are for man,
And no-one can solve them
  But the great Godhead Himself.

There is nothing that ignites love
  Into a strong, passionate flame,
Promise or command,
  Like His suffering;
When he gave his life for us,
  How can He falter henceforth?
There are a myriad of immeasurable
  Mercies in His wound.

O unebbing, endless grace,
  Eternal its enduring!
In the wounds of the Lamb who died
  Alone is my healing;
Healing from guilt,
  Healing from fears of the grave;
And love having been rooted
  On the foundation of eternal peace.
Come ye also the :: And ye also the
the same minuted :: to the same well

tr. 2016 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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