Golch ni, Oddiwrth ein beiau aml ri', Yn afon werthfawr Calfari; Sydd heddyw yn llif o haeddiant llawn: Er cymaint ein haflendid ni, Yn dorf ddi-ri' ein golchi a gawn. Rhad, ras, Yw'r newydd gân bereiddia'i blas Fu erioed ar wyneb daear lâs; Hi ddeil ei blas pan losgo'r byd, A berwi'r môr, a'i dònau'n dân: Y nefol gân fydd gras i gyd. Mae'r awr I'm gael yn llwyr fy meiau i'r llawr, Yn mwriad fy Eiriolwr mawr: Bu farw ef, caf finau fyw, Er amled yw 'ngelynion cas, Mae newydd flas ar air fy Nuw.1: 1797 Hugh Jones 1749-1825 2: Grawn-Sypiau Canaan 1805 3: Pigion o Hymnau &c. 1808 (Clodforedd y saint am angeu y groes) Golch ni Oddiwrth ein beiau aml ri', Yn afon werthfawr Calfari, Sydd heddyw'n lli' o haeddiant llawn Er cymmaint ein haflendid ni, Yn dorf ddiri', ein golchi gawn. Dy waed Oedd pwrcas drud yr hyfryd wlad, Bar'tow'd i mi yn eithaf rhad; Dy gariad annherfynol maith, A'm nertha mwy i fyn'd yn mlaen, I Salem lân, ar ben fy nhaith.1: 1797 Hugh Jones 1749-1825 2: Grawn-Sypiau Canaan 1805 Tôn [228.888]: Dorcas (D J James 1743-1831) gwelir: Bydd bydd (Rhyw ganu peraidd iawn ryw ddydd) Daeth trwy (Yr Iesu glân a'i farwol glwy') O pwy (All chwilio dyfais dwyfol glwy')? O tyn (Y gorchudd yn y mynydd hyn) Rhad ras (Yw'r newydd gân bereiddia'i blas) |
Wash us, From our multitude of faults, In the valuable river of Calvary; Which is today a flow full of merit: Despite the extent of our uncleanness, As an innumerable throng we may get washed. Free, grace, Is the new song with the sweetest taste There ever was on the face of the blue-green earth; It will hold its taste when the world burns: And the sea boils, with it waves as fire: The heavenly song will be all grace. It is the hour, For me to get completely my sins down, In the scheme of my great Mediator: He died, while I get to live, Despite how may are my hated enemies, There is a new taste to the word of my God. (The praise of the saints for the death of the cross) Wash us, From our multitude of faults, In the river of Calvary, Which is today a flow full of merit: Despite the extent of our uncleanness, As an innumerable throng we may get washed. Thy blood, Was the costly purpose of the delightful land, Prepared for me extremely graciously; Thy unbounded, vast love, Shall strengthen me evermore to go on, To holy Salem, at the end of my journey.tr. 2015 Richard B Gillion |
Free grace The loveliest song of sweet solace That e'er was heard upon earth's face As lovely still, when boils the sea With waves of fire, and earth's in flames That grace-filled heavenly song shall be.tr. M J H Ellis (Monti) used by kind permission of the author |