Jenny Jones

Būm innau'n rhodianna yn nyffryn Llangollen

Būm innau'n rhodianna
  yn nyffryn Llangollen,
Yn dringo y mynydd
  i Gaer Dinas Brān,
Yn edrych i fyny
  at Gynwyd a Chorwen
Tra mynydd Rhiwabon
  yn deifio gan dān.
Mi a welais lān ddyfroedd
  aberoedd y Berwyn,
A da ardal Dowrdu
  ar aswy a de,
Ond mi welais lān fwthyn,
  nis gwn i beth wedyn,
Nis gallwn i weled
  dim byd ond efe.

Disgynnais o'r castell
  a chroesais yr afon,
Fel curai fy nghalon
  anghofiaf fi byth;
Ac fel heb yn wybod
  i'm traed, ar fy union
At dy Jenny Jones
  ymgyfeiriais yn syth.
Ac er bod hi yn eistedd
  ym mysg ei chwiorydd,
A'i thad wrth ei hochor
  yn siarad ā fi,
Gyda'i brawd o'r tu arall,
  nis gwn i mo'r herwydd,
Ni allwn i weled
  neb byw ond hyhi.

Yn eglwys Llangollen,
  tra'r clychau yn canu,
Os euthum yn wirion,
  mi wn pwy a'm gwnaeth,
Unasom ā'n gilydd,
  byth byth i wahanu
Yn dlawd neu'n gyfoethog,
  yn well neu yn waeth.
Yna da gennyf wybod,
  'nenwedig fy hunan,
Mae Jenny yn gwybod
  yn well na myfi,
Mae yn dda gennyf ganu,
  mae'n dda gennyf arian,
Ond ni allaf garu
  dim byd heblaw hi.
John Ceiriog Hughes (Ceiriog) 1832-87
Alaw: (Sweet) Jenny Jones
(John Parry [Bardd Alaw] 1776-1851)

I was strolling
  in the Vale of Llangollen,
Climbing the mountain
  to Caer Dinas Brān,
Looking up
  to Cynwyd and Corwen
While Ruabon Mountain
  was burning with fire.
I saw the clean waters
  of the confluences of the Berwyn,
And the good region of Dowrdu
  to left and right,
But I saw a clean cottage,
  I do not know what then,
I could not see
  anything at all but it.

I descended from the castle
  and crossed the river,
My heart beating so
  I will never forget;
And so without my feet knowing,
  I went straight
To the house of Jenny Jones
  I steered myself directly.
And although she was sitting
  Amongst her sisters,
And her father by her side
  Talking with me,
With her brother on the other side,
  I did not know why,
I could not see
  anyone at all but her.

In Llangollen church,
  while the bells were ringing,
If I went foolishly,
  I knew who made me,
We united with each other,
  Never ever to separate
For poorer or richer,
  For better or worse.
Well I know,
  especially myself,
Jenny knows
  better than I
Well I have singing,
  well I have money,
But I cannot love
  Anyone at all but her.
tr: 2008 Richard B Gillion
One morn from Llangollen's
  dim violet valley
Lighthearted I clambered
  to Caer Dinas Bran.
O'er Cynwyd and Corwen
  I saw the sun sally,
Ruabon's far ridges
  faint blushed with the dawn.
As I look'd, Berwyn's waters
  to silver were smitten,
And Dee danced in diamonds
  to left and to right;
But when one lonely cottage
  my lover's eyes lit on,
Sure, ev'rything else
  faded out of my sight.

From the castle downhill
  like a deer I went racing,
With a heart pit-a-patting
  I leapt the ford stones;
Till my feet through the air,
  like a pair of swifts chasing,
Swept me straight to the doorstep
  of sweet Jenny Jones.
She sat by her father
  and I by her brother,
Her sisters, like roses,
  ranged round me for choice;
But of all and of any
  I only saw Jenny,
And listened alone
  to each tone of her voice.

In the church of Llangollen
  when joybells were chiming,
If once my wits wandered,
  right well I knew why.
'Twas Jenny's 'I take thee!'
  to heav'n sent them climbing,
Until her soft pinch
  pulled me back from the sky.
I love a good neighbour,
  I love rest from labour,
Good music and preaching,
  my pipe and my purse;
But above all an any,
  I love my own Jenny,
For richer, for poorer,
  for better, for worse.
A P Graves (1846-1931)

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

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