Ar lan y môr

Ar lan y môr mae rhosys chochion
Ar lan y môr mae lilis gwynion
Ar lan y môr mae 'nghariad inne
Yn cysgu'r nos a chodi'r bore.

Oer yw'r rhew ac oer yw'r eira
Oer yw'r ty heb dân yn y gaeaf
Oer yw'r eglwys heb ddim ffeirad
Oer wyf innau heb fy nghariad

Dacw'r ty a dacw'r talcen
Lle ces i nosweithiau llawen
Ar y lloft uwchben y genin
Gyda'r ferch a'r rhuban melyn

Mae gen i fuwch a dau gorn arian
Me gen i fuwch sy'n godro'i hunan
Mae gen i fuwch sy'n llanw'r stwcau
Fel mae'r môr yn llanw'r baeau.

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Ar lan y môr mae rhosys chochion
Ar lan y môr mae lilis gwynion
Ar lan y môr mae 'nghariad inne
Yn cysgu'r nos a chodi'r bore.

Ar lan y môr mae carreg wastad
Lle bum yn siarad gair â'm cariad
O amgylch hon fe dyf y lili
Ac ambell sbrigyn o rosmari. 

Ar lan y môr mae cerrig gleision,
Ar lan y môr mae blodau'r meibion,
Ar lan y môr mae pob rhinweddau,
Ar lan y môr mae nghariad inne. 

Tros y môr y mae fy ngalon,
Tros y môr y mae f'ochneidion,
Tros y môr mae f'anwylyd
Syn fy meddwl i bob munud.

Llawn yw'r môr o swnd a chregyn
Llawn yw'r wy o wyn a melyn
Llawn yw'r coed o ddail a blode
Llawn o gariad merch wyf inne.
On the seashore there are red roses
On the seashore there are lovely lilies
On the seashore is my own sweetheart
Sleeping at night getting up in the morning.

Cold is the frost and cold is the snow
Cold the house without fire in the winter
Cold is the church with no priest
Cold am I without my sweetheart.

Yonder the home and yonder the gable
Where I spent happy evenings
In the loft above the kitchen
With the girl with the yellow ribbon.

I have a cow with two horns of silver
I have a cow who milks herself
I have a cow that fills the pails
Like the sea filling the bays.

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On the seashore there are red roses
On the seashore there are lovely lilies
On the seashore is my own sweetheart
Sleeping at night getting up in the morning.

On the seashore there is a flat stone
Where I used to speak a word with my love
From around there grew the lily
And an occasional sprig of rosemary.

On the seashore there are blue stones,
On the seashore there is the flower of men,
On the seashore there are all virtues,
On the seashore there is my own sweetheart.

Across the sea is my heart,
Across the sea are my sighs,
Across the sea is my beloved
Who is in my thoughts every minute.

Full is the sea of sand and shells
Full is the egg of white and yellow
Full is the wood of leaves and flowers
Full of a girl's love am I.
tr. 2009 Richard B Gillion

The middle column is a literal translation of the Welsh (corrections welcome). A Welsh translation is identified by the abbreviation 'cyf.', an English translation by 'tr.'

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