Gallesit dalu i ni'r pwyth

Gallesit dalu i ni'r pwyth,
  Drwy dduo ffrwyth
      y ddaear;
A'n cau dan arwydd o dy ŵg,
  Mewn golwg trist a galar.

Ti roddaist i ni dywydd da,
  I gaslgu'n bara'n bur-iach;
Dod galon newydd ynom ni
  I'th garu di'n gywirach.

Er i ti'n bwgwth, Arglwydd da,
  A niwed pla o newyn;
Er hyny'n harbed wne'st bob tro,
  Cyn ein niweidio, wed'yn.

Bygythiast sychder fel yn farn,
  Troi'n gwlad i haiarn g'ledwch;
Ac eto'n harbed cyn pen hir,
  Troi'n tir yn wir dynerwch.

Er bwgwth braenu,
    ambell bryd,
  Holl buraf ŷd ein bara;
Ei roi drachefn fu'th drefn,
    faith draul,
  O! gwelwn, gael ein gwala.

Er haeddu newyn dygn, du,
  Am bechu'n wyneb uchel;
Ond danfon bara i ni gael byw
  Mae'n Duw, yn hynod dawel.

Thou couldst have paid us the recompense,
  Through blackening the
      fruit of the earth;
And shutting us under a sign of thy frown,
  In a sad look and mourning.

Thou gavest to us good weather,
  To gather our bread wholly safely;
Put a new heart within us
  To love thee more truly.

Although thou threaten us, good Lord,
  With the hurt of a plague of starvation;
Despite this save us thou didst every time,
  Before we got harmed, then.

Thou didst threaten drought as a judgment,
  Turning our land into iron hardness;
and yet saved us before long,
  Turning our ground truly tender.

Although threatening the rotting,
    several times,
  Of all the purest grain of our bread;
Turning it back was thy purpose,
    a vast wastage,
  O look! We have our sufficiency.

Although deserving severe, black hunger,
  For sinning with a haughty attitude;
But sending bread for us to get to live
  Is God, remarkably quietly.