Pa Beth Sy'n Hardd?

Beth sy'n hardd? Y tyner lili

Pa Beth Sy'n Hardd?
Beth sy'n hardd? Y tyner lili
  'N plygu'i ben dan bwysau'r gwlith;
Pelydr haul dysgleirdeg, gwisgi,
  'N dansio'r fron y rhosyn brith:
Hyn sydd hardd; - ond gwelaf wrthddrych
  Tecach, harddach na hwynt hwy,
Deigryn merch uwchben amddifad,
  Arwydd teimlad dros ei glwy'.

Beth sy'n hardd? Y cwmwl goleu
  'N nofio yn yr awyr fry,
Pan fo dysglaer wawr y boreu
  Yn goreuo'i odre cu:
Hyn sydd hardd; - ond, ah, canfyddaf
  Rywbeth harddach, er mor wiw,
Tremiad geneth yn arddangos
  Calon serchog dan ei briw.

Beth sy'n hardd? Yr aur a'r perlau,
  Sidan, porphor, llian main,
Addurniadau tg duwiesau,
  Gwisgoed gwychion, golwg gain:
Hyn sydd hardd; -
    ond canmil harddach
  Agwedd isel, gwylaidd lef,
Boneddiges mewn tae weddi
  'N codi'i golwg tua'r nef.

Hed gln angel drwy'r cymylau,
  Sathr eu godre, daw i lawr,
Diystyra'r aur a'r perlau,
  Pasia'r blodau glwys eu gwawr;
Cwyd y deigryn - hoffa'r tremiad -
  Clyw'r ochenaid - yna chwardd;
Lleda'i edyn, rhwyga'r awel,
  A gan sibrwd - "Hyn sydd hardd."
J H Hughes (Ieuan o Lleyn) 1814-93

[Mesur: 8787D]

What Thing Is Beautiful?
What is beautiful?  The tender lily
  Bowing its head under the weight of the dew;
A ray of fair-shining sun, nimble,
  Dancing the breast of the speckled rose:
This is beautiful; - but I see an object
  Fairer, more beautiful than even they,
The tear of a girl more than orphaned,
  A sign of feeling for her wound.

What is beautiful? The golden cloud
  Floating in the sky above,
When the shining dawn of the morning
  Lights its dear bottom:
This is beautiful; - but, ah, I perceive
  Something more beautiful, since more worthy,
The gaze of a girl showing
  An affectionate heart under her bruise.

What is beautiful? The gold and the pearls,
  Silk, purple, fine linen,
The fair adornments of godesses,
  Brilliant garments, of intricate appearance:
These are beautiful; -
    but a hundred times more beautiful
  A lowly attitude, a modest cry,
A lady in earnest prayer
  Lifting her sight towards heaven.

Fly, holy angel, through the clouds,
  Tread their bottom, bring down,
Disregard the gold and the pearls,
  Pass the flowers with their pleasant dawn;
Raise the tear - favour the gaze -
  Hear the groan - then a laugh;
Spread her wings, rend the breeze,
  And with a whisper - "This is beautiful."
tr. 2016 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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