P'am Arglwydd yma p'am mae draw?

P'am, Arglwydd, yma, p'am mae draw,
Ryw elyn marwol ar bob llaw -
  Pleser a gofid bob yn ail,
Yn tỳnu'm llygaid, tỳnu'm bryd,
At yr wrthrychau sy'n y byd -
  Rhyw dwyll disylwedd a di-sail?

Trwy darth, trwy niwl, mi wela'r fąn
Ddymunai'm henaid gael i'w rąn -
  Ardaloedd grās, ardaloedd hedd;
Y wlad mae cariad pur di-drai,
Fel afon, yn ei dyfrhau,
  Tu hwnt i angeu du a'r bedd.

Myfi gāf yno'n dawel fyw
Uwch brād gelynion o bob rhyw -
  Uwch pob rhyw drafferth,
      pob rhyw wae:
Caf dreulio tragwyddoldeb mwy
I ganu am ei ddwyfol glwy',
  Mewn anthem fythol i barhau.

Pwy a chwennychai fyw'n y byd
Sy'n dwyll,
    sy'n drafferth trwyddo i gyd -
  Mil mwy ei ofid
      nag ei flās,
Yn lladd o hyd, heb fyth fywhau,
A'i groesau trymion yn parhau?
  O! am drigfanau nefol rās.

Why, Lord, here, why is there yonder,
Some mortal enemy on every hand -
  Pleasure and grief alternately,
Drawing my eyes, drawing my attention,
To the objects that are in the world -
  Some insubstantial and baseless deception?

Through mist, through fog, I see the place
My soul would wish to get for its portion -
  Regions of grace, regions of peace;
The land where there is pure unebbing love,
Like a river, watering it,
  Beyond black death and the grave.

I too shall get to live quietly there
Above all kinds of enemies' treachery -
  Above every kind of trouble,
      every kind of woe:
I shall get to spend eternity evermore
Singing about his divine wound,
  In an anthem forever to endure.

Who would desire to live in the world
Which is a deception,
    which is altogether trouble throughout -
  With a thousand times more
      grief than enjoyment,
Always killing, without ever reviving,
And its heavy crosses enduring?
  O for the dwellings of heavenly grace!