Pa fodd y beiddiaf/meiddia(f) yn fy oes

Pa fodd y meiddia yn fy oes
Dristâu na grwgnach dan y groes,
  A minnau'n gwybod am y fraint
  Mai'r groes yw coron
      pawb o'r saint?

Mae dirmyg Crist yn well i mi
Na holl drysorau'r byd
    a'i fri;
  Ei wawd fel sain berseiniol sydd,
  A'i groes yn fywyd imi fydd.

Nid yw blinderau'r saint i gyd,
A'u croesau beunydd yn y byd,
  Ond megis dim wrth
      gyfyng awr
  A thost arteithiau'r Meichiau mawr.

Dilynwn ninnau ôl ei draed -
Ei lwybr sydd yn goch o waed -
  Gan gyfri'r groes,
      os rhaid ei dwyn,
  Yn wir orfoledd, er ei fwyn.

Mae'n rhaid i hunan gwag
    ein hoes
A'n hymffrost grynu wrth ei groes;
  Holl rwysg y byd
      ac uchder dyn -
  I lawr i bwrir hwynt bob un.

Er dechrau'r byd
    o oes i oes
Proffwydo wnaed am
    waed y groes;
  A'r holl aberthau
      gynt fu'n bod
  Oedd yn ei ddangos ef i ddod.

Na rwgnach mwy, fy enaid prudd,
Tra byddo nerth yn ôl y dydd;
  Er mynych riddfan dan yr iau,
  Mae'r dydd i'w symud yn nesâu.

O dan y groes ymlaen yr awn,
Dywedodd ef mai'r groes a gawn;
  Ond dyma gysur, f'enaid gwan,
  Try'r groes yn goron yn y man.

gwelir: Mae dirmyg Crist yn well i mi

How dare I in my age
Sadden or grumble under the cross,
  While I know about the privilege
  That the cross is the crown
      of all of the saints?

The scorn of Christ is better to me
Than all the treasures of the world
    and its honour;
  His mocking is like a sweet sound,
  And his cross will be life to me.

The afflictions of all the saints,
And their daily crosses in the world, are
  But as nothing against
      the straitened hour
  And torturing pains of the great Surety.

Let us too follow his footprints -
His path which is red with blood -
  While counting the cross,
      if it must be borne,
  As true joy, for his sake.

It is necessary for the empty self
    of our lifespan
And our boasting tremble at his cross;
  All the ostentation of the world
      and the haughtiness of man -
  Down they are to be cast every one.

Since the beginning of the world
    from age to age
It was prophesied about
    the blood of the cross;
  And all the former sacrifices
      that have been
  Were showing him to come.

Do not grumble any more, my sad soul,
While there is strength left of the day;
  Despite often groaning under the yoke,
  The day is moving nearer.

Under the cross let us go forward,
He said that the cross we would have;
  But here is a comfort, my weak soul,
  The cross shall turn into a crown soon.