(G)wreichionen dân anadliad Duw

Gwreichionen dân, anadliad Duw,
Ymâd a'r babell 'rwyt yn byw;
  Er rhoddi'r corph
      trwy loes i lawr,
  Marwolaeth sydd yn fendith fawr.

I boen a gofid cân yn iach,
Cei newid byd
    cû enaid bach;
  Ni ddaw na phechod, cûr na phoen,
  O fewn i lŷs y nefol Oen.

'Rwy'n d'od ar fyr o'r babell frau,
Rwy'n teilmo f'anadl yn byrhau;
  Pa beth yw hwn sy'n dylu'r wawr,
  A gwasgu f'yspryd llesg i lawr?

Mae'n boddi'r synwyr,
    dwyn y clyw,
Fy enaid bach ai angeu yw?
  Yn iach i'r byd, mi glywa'ch llef,
  Seraphiaid glân, anwyliaid nef.

Wrth nerth eich
    pûr-wych edyn chwi,
I fyd anfarwol hedaf i;
  Crist a orchfygodd angeu llym,
  Mewn gafael llaw,
      mae'n gyfaill im'.

              - - - - -

Wreichionen dân anadliad Duw,
Ymâd o'r babell 'rwyt yn byw;
  Er rhoddi'r corff
      drwy loes i lawr,
  Marwolaeth sydd yn elw mawr:
Na rwgnach, gnawd -
    trwy lesmair gâd
I minau hedeg i'r mwynhad!

Mae sain llawenydd
   uwch y llawr,
Trigolion nef yn galw'n awr:
  I boen a gofid cân yn iach;
  Cei newid byd,
      gu enaid bach:
Ni ddaw na phechod, cur, na phoen,
I mewn i lys y nefol Oen.

'Rwy'n d'od ar frys
    o'r babell frau,
'Rwy'n teimlo'r anadl yn byrhau:
  Pa beth yw hwn
      sy'n dylu'r wawr?
  Mae'n gwasgu f'ysbryd llesg i lawr,
Yn boddi'r synwyr, dwyn y clyw!
O f'enaid, d'wed, ai angau yw?

Yn iach i'r byd - mi glywa'ch llef,
Seraffiaid heirdd, anwyliaid nef;
  Wrth nerth eich eurwych edyn chwi
  I fyd anfarwol hedaf fi;
Nid ofnaf loesau angau llym,
Mewn gafael llaw mae Cyfaill im'!

gwelir: 'Rwy'n d'od ar frys o'r babell frau

Spark of fire, the breath of God,
Leave the tent in which thou art living;
  Although laying down the
      body through its throes,
  Death is a great blessing.

To pain and grief bid farewell,
Thou shalt get a new world,
    dear little soul;
  No sin shall come, nor wound nor pain,
  Within the court of the heavenly Lamb.

I am coming quickly from the fragile tent,
I am feeling my breath shortening;
  Whoever is this who is treading the dawn,
  And pressing my feeble spirit dawn?

It is drowning the sense,
    taking the hearing,
My little soul, is it death?
  Farewell to the world, I hear your cry,
  Dear, holy seraphim of heaven.

By the strength of your
    pure, brilliant wings,
To an immortal world I fly;
  Christ has overcome sharp death,
  In the grasp of a hand,
      it is a friend to me.

                 - - - - -

Spark of the fire of God's breath,
Leave the tent thou art living in;
  Although laying down the
      body through its throes,
  Death is of great benefit.
Do not grumble, flesh -
    through fainting let
Me fly to the pleasure!

There is the sound of rejoicing
    above the earth
The inhabitants of heaven are calling now:
  To pain and grief say farewell;
  Thou shalt get to exchange a world,
      dear little soul:
No sin, wound, or pain shall come
Within the court of the heavenly Lamb.

I am coming hurriedly
    from the fragile tent,
I am feeling the breath shortening:
  What thing is this
      that is trampling the dawn?
  It is pressing my feeble spirit down,
Drowning the sense, taking the hearing!
O my soul, say, is it death?

Farewell to the world - I hear your cry,
Dear, beautiful seraphim of heaven;
  By your brilliant golden wings' strength
  To an immortal world I fly;
I shall not fear the pangs of keen death,
Holding my hand is a Friend to me!

Vital spark of heavenly flame,
Quit, O quit this mortal frame!
  Trembling, hoping, lingering flying,
  O the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life.






Hark! they whisper; angels say,
Sister spirit, come away!
  What is this absorbs me quite -
  Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirit, draws my breath?
Tell me, my soul, can this be death?





The world recedes - it disappears;
Heav'n opens on my eyes; my ears
  With sounds seraphic ring!
Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!
O grave! where is thy victory!
  O death! where is thy sting?

              - - - - -

Vital spark of heavenly flame,
Quit, O quit this mortal frame!
  Trembling, hoping,
      lingering flying,
  O the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond nature,
    cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life.

Hark! they whisper;
    angels say,
Sister spirit, come away!
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  What is this
      absorbs me quite -
  Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirit, draws my breath?
Tell me, my soul, can this be death?

The world recedes - it disappears;
Heav'n opens on my eyes; my ears
  With sounds seraphic ring!
Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!
O grave! where is thy victory!
  O death! where is thy sting?