Adar mân y mynydd

Yr eos a'r glân hedydd
Ac adar mân y mynydd,
A ei di'n gennad at liw'r haf
Sy'n glaf o glefyd newydd?

Does gennyf ddim anrhegion
Na jewels drud i'w danfon
I ddwyn i gof yr hwn a'ch câr,
Ond pâr o fenig gwynion.

Yr adar mân fe aethant
I'w siwrnai bell hedasant
Ac yno ar gyfer gwely Gwen
Hwy ar y pren ganasant.

Dywedai Gwen lliw'r ewyn
Och fi, pa beth yw'r deryn
Sydd yma'n tiwnio nawr mor braf
A minnau'n glaf ar derfyn?

Cenhadon ym gwnewch goelio
Oddi wrth y mwyn a'ch caro,
Gael iddo wybod ffordd yr ych
Ai mendio'n wych a'i peidio.

Dywedwch wrtho'n dawel
Mai byr fydd hyd fy Hoedel,
Cyn diwedd hyn o haf yn brudd
A'n gymysg bridd a grafel.

The nightingale and the spotless lark
And the little birds of the mountain,
Wilt thou go as messenger to summer's colour
Which is suffering from a new illness?

I have no gifts
Nor expensive jewels to send
To remind you of him who loves you,
But a pair of white gloves.

The little birds did go
On their distant journey they flew
And then facing Gwen's bed
On the tree they sang.

Said Gwen the colour of the foam
Ah me, what thing is the bird
Which is here warbling now so prettily
And I terminally ill?

We are messengers please believe
Sent on behalf of the one who loves you
To let him know how you are faring
Whether you are growing hale or not.

Tell him softly
That short will be my lifetime,
Before this summer ends sadly
I am going to be among soil and gravel.