Y gwyd(y)r glas

Os daw 'nghariad yma heno

Y gwyd(y)r glas
Os daw 'nghariad yma heno,
  yma heno
    i guro'r gwydyr glas,
Rhowch ateb gweddus iddo,
  gweddus iddo,
    na atebwch mono'n gas
Nad ydyw'r ferch ddim gartre
    na'i h'wyllys da'n y tŷ,
Llanc ifanc o'r plwy arall,
  o'r plwy arall
    sydd wedi mynd  hi.

Pe meddwn edyn eryr,
  edyn eryr,
    mi fyddwn lawer gwell
I hedeg at fy nghariad,
  at fy nghariad,
    sydd yn y gwledydd pell;
Dros diroedd maith a moroedd,
    gobeithio'i fod o'n iach 
Rwy'n caru'r tir lle cerddodd,
  tir lle cerddodd
    o wraidd fy nghalon fach.

Fy nghalon sydd cyn drymed,
  sydd cyn drymed
    a'r march sy'n
        dringo'r rhiw.
Wrth geisio bod yn llawen,
  bod yn llawen,
    ni fedrwn yn fy myw.
Mae'r esgid yn fy ngwasgu
    mewn man nas gwyddoch chi
A llawer gofid meddwl,
  gofid meddwl
    sy'n torri nghalon i.

            - - - - -

Os daw fy nghariad yma heno
    i guro'r gwydyr glas,
Rhowch ateb gweddus iddo,
    na ddwedwch ddim gas,
Nad ydyw'r ferch ddim gartref
    na'i h'wyllys da'n y tŷ,
Llanc ifanc o'r plwy arall,
llanc ifanc o'r plwy arall
    sydd wedi mynd  hi.

A chwithau, ln ferch ifanc,
    rhowch ran o'ch cwmni cu
I lanc sy dan y ffenest,
    heb feddu lle'n y byd.
Mae'r llanw wedi llenwi,
    a'm llong ar frig y don;
Ni ddeuaf ddim i'ch blino,
ni ddeuaf ddim i'ch blino
    'run noswaith 'rhawg, ond hon.

Atebai'r ferch yn gryno
    nad oedd hi'n lojio neb,
Mae'r ffordd yn ddigon llydan
    a'r llwybrau'n ddigon teg,
A chwithau, lencyn gwisgi,
    ewch efo glan y dŵr,
Mae digon o'r mn gychod,
mae digon o'r mn gychod,
    cewch bs efo'r rhain yn siŵr.
traddodiadol

gwelir: Mae 'nghalon i cyn drymed

The blue glass
If my love comes here tonight,
  here tonight
    to knock the blue glass,
Give a worthy answer to him,
  worthy to him,
    nor answer him hatefully
That the girl is not at home
    nor her good will good in the house,
A young lad from the other parish,
  from the other parish
    has taken her.

If I had an eagle's wings,
  eagle's wings,
    I would much prefer
To fly to my love,
  to my love,
    who is in distant countries;
Over vast lands and seas,
    I hope that he is well -
I love the land where he walked,
  land where he walked
    from the root of my little heart.

My heart is as heavy,
  is as heavy
    as the horse that is
        climbing the hill.
While trying to be cheerful,
  to be cheerful,
    I cannot for all my life.
The shoe is squeezing me
    in a place you do not know
And many a sorrowful thought,
  sorrowful thought
    is breaking my heart.

               - - - - -

If my love comes here tonight
    to knock on the blue glass,
Give a fitting answer to him,
    do not saying anything hateful,
That the girl is not at home
    nor her good will in the house,
A young man from the other parish,
a young man from the other parish
    has taken her.

And you, lovely young girl,
    give your part of your dear company
To a lad who is under the window,
    possessing nowhere in the world.
The tide has come in,
    and my ship on the crest of the wave;
I shall not come at all to weary you,
I shall not come at all to weary you
    any evening to come, but this.

The girl would answer trembling
    that she was not lodging anyone,
The road is wide enough
    and the paths fair enough,
And you, nimble youth,
    go with the bank of the water,
There are plenty of small boats,
there are plenty of small boats,
    you'll get a passage with them surely.
tr. 2017 Richard B Gillion

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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