Breuddwdio a wnaethum yn y glỳn A'm pen yn syn nos wener; Gan dybio clywed deugorph brau Yn newid geiriau crasder Un gynt oedd lawn dan olud lwyth, A'r llall mewn ystwyth isder. - Ebr y goludog wrth y tlawd, Gan siarad gwawd a choegni, Gorphwysa draw, ysgerbwd llwm, Yr wyt yn trwm arogli; Ystyria fi, îs dôr fy arch Na chynnyg amharch imi. Bum gynt yn bennaeth yn y byd, Mewn llawen fyd yn llwyddo; Yn cael mwynderau gorau gant, A phrin i'm chwant ymffrwyno; Pa ham, er bod ar waelod arch, Na chaf rhagorbarch etto? Bydd ddistaw, meddai'r gŵr tylawd, Na siarad oerwawd eiriau; Aeth heibio'th rwysg, ar ddaear gron, Y'nghyd a'th feithion foethau; Nid wyt yn awr ynghladdfa'r plwy', Na llai na mwy na minnau. Ti a fuost gynt, ŵr cefnog gwych, Ar seigiau'n mynych wledda; A minnau'n fynych iawn yn wir Heb gael na bi'r na bara: Ond gwedi'r grym - y gwaed a'r grâdd, Mae pawb yn gyd-radd yma.
David Thomas (Dafydd Ddu o Eryri) 1759-1822 |
Dream I did in the vale With my head surprised on Friday night; Supposing I heard a pair of fragile bodies Exchanging words of aridity The first one was full under a wealthy load, And the other in lithe lowliness. - Said the wealthy one to the poor, Speaking scorn and contempt, Rest yonder, bare skeleton, Thou art smelling heavily; Consider me, under the door of my coffin And offer me no disrespect. I was once a chief in the world, In a joyful world successful; Having a hundred of the best delights, And my desires scarcely curbed; Why, although at the bottom of a coffin, May I not still be greatly honoured? Be quiet, said the poor man, Nor speak cold scornful words; Thy ostentation has passed, on the round earth, Together with thy vast luxuries; Thou art in the parish burial-place, Neither less nor more than I. Thou wast once, rich brilliant man, On frequent dishes feasting; And I very often truly Having neither beer nor bread: But after the power - the blood and the status, Everyone is an equal here. tr. 2020 Richard B Gillion |
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