Wel dyma'r hynod ŵyl Nadolig

Wel dyma'r hynod
      ŵyl Nadolig
A haeddai ei chadw yn barchedig;
  Hwn yw'r boreddydd! Mab a roddwyd
  Yn feddyg inni, ac fe'i ganwyd!
Mawr ryfeddod sydd i'w ganfod
    Â pharod lygaid ffydd,
Awdwr odiaeth Iachawdwriaeth
    Mewn cnawdoliaeth cyn y dydd;
Wele'n wiwlan Fab sancteiddlan
    Nawr yn ein hanian ni,
Rhyfedd burdeb a disgleirdeb,
    Anfeidroldeb Un yn Dri.

O waith fod Adda'n ddyn syrthiedig
A'i hil i gyd yn halogedig,
  Daeth Iesu Grist i'r byd i rodio
  Gan wisgo natur dyn amdano;
Mae'r hanes hynod yma'n barod
    Ar dafod gan bob dyn,
Yn y beudy ganwyd Iesu,
    Pob dyn sy'n gwybod hynny ei hun;
Mae hanes hefyd am ei fywyd,
    Ei flinfyd ef a'i loes,
A chyfyng gyflwr ein Hiachawdwr
    A'n Gwaredwr ar y groes.

'Does neb yn gweled gwerthfawrogrwydd
A gogoniant Crist ein Harglwydd
  Ond yr enaid trallodedig
  Ar fôr o wydr sy'n friwedig;
'R hwn sy'n profi ei ddaioni
    A all werthfawrogi ei ras,
A'r hwn sy'n gweled ei ddrwg waeledd
    A'i ffiaidd lygredd,
          camwedd cas;
Dyma gwynfan enaid truan,
    ‘Pechadur aflan wyf,
Wedi soddi mewn trueni,
    Yn fy ngh'ledi, dan fy nghlwyf.'

Mae Duw yn newid dyn annuwiol
Ac yn ei ddwyn o'r Aifft ysbrydol;
  Lle mae'r enaid llwm ar rynnu,
  Mewn halogrwydd yn ymlygru,
Mae fe'n aros mewn anwiredd
    A môr o lygredd maith,
Nes cael troad a dychweliad,
    Cyfnewidiad cyfiawn waith;
Nid oes gallu dwys nac 'wyllys
    Daionus mewn un dyn,
Ac ni all eiddil, gwannaf llwyddiant,
    Gyda'i haeddiant gadw ei hun.

Pan welo dyn ei stad golledig
Mae'n gwyro'n adyn
     llwyr grynedig,
  Fe gwyd y truan gwan anghenus
  At frenin nef ei lef wylofus:
‘Bywyd! Bywyd im, f'Anwylyd!'
    Hyn yw ei grynllyd gri,
‘Arglwydd nefol, Dad tosturiol,
    Edifeiriol ydwyf fi!'
O breswylfod bur y Drindod
    Daw iddo ollyngdod llawn,
Gwaredigaeth rhag marwolaeth
    Ac Iachawdwriaeth, uchaf dawn.

Ffordd y groes yw
      ffordd y Cristion,
Ffordd sy'n llawn o bob peryglon:
  Rhaid mynd drwy ganol
        llu'r gelynion
  At dir Beulah drwy'r helbulon;
Rhaid yw croesi ffordd drygioni,
    Trueni plant yr oes,
Rhaid tan flinion, fawr drallodion
    I gywir Gristion godi'r groes;
Ffydd iachusol gadwedigol
    Hynodol ras y nef
Sy'n taflu pechod o'i awdurdod,
    Ni all ymgydfod gydag ef.

Golwg ar yr Iesu gwaedlyd
O dan ein pwn yn dwyn ein penyd
  A weithia ynom edifeirwch,
  Ufudd-dod gwir a diolchgarwch;
Gweld rhinweddol waed aberthol,
    Offrymol, llawn o ffrwyth,
A gweld y Meichiau'n dioddef poenau
    O dan ddialeddau
          Adda a'i lwyth,
Cael amlygiad a datguddiad
    O gariad Iesu gwiw
A bair i greulon galed galon
    Y mab afradlon fynd yn friw.

Cyd-ddylem ninnau holi'n helaeth
Beth yw gwreiddyn ein tystiolaeth;
  A welwn achos gwirioneddol
  Yma i ganu mawl plygeiniol?
Rhyfedd odiaeth yw cnawdoliaeth,
    Dynoliaeth
          Mab Duw ne',
Gwir ail Adda, llew o Jwda
    Aeth i'r lladdfa yn ein lle;
Moliant, moliant a gogoniant
    Dda lwyddiant yn ddi-lyth,
Halelwia! Halelwia!
    I'r Oen fu ar Galfaria fyth.

Dyma destun cân odidog,
Sef goddefaint Iesu'n T'wysog,
  Ni fedd un sant na seraff purwyn
  O fewn y nef ragorach testun;
Holl ufuddion weision Iesu
    Sy'n pyncio canu pêr,
Cof sy'n ddiau am ei glwyfau
    Yng nghôr y seintiau
          yng nghaer y sêr!
Bydd gorfoledd pur diddiwedd
    A chlod i'w fawredd fe,
Effeithiol ffrwythau
      o les ei loesau
    Sy'n cynnau holl ganiadau'r ne'!

See here is the notable
      festival of Christmas
That deserved to be kept honoured;
  This is the morning! A Son was given
  As a physician to us, and he was born!
A great wonder is to be discerned
    With the ready eyes of faith,
The excellent Author of Salvation
    In incarnation before the day;
See a very worthy most sacred Son
    Not in our nature,
A wonder of the purity and radiance,
    Of the infinite One in Three.

Since Adam is a fallen man
And all his race is defiled,
  Jesus Christ came to the world to walk
  Wearing the nature of man around him;
The notable story here is ready
    On the tongue by every man,
In the cowshed Jesus was born,
    Every man knows this himself;
The story is also about his life,
    His grief and his anguish,
And the straitened condition of our Saviour
    And our Deliverer on the cross.

No-one is seeing the preciousness
And glory of Christ our Lord
  But the troubled soul
  On a sea of glass that is fragile;
'Tis he who experiences his goodness
    Who can appreciate his grace,
And he who sees his evil baseness
    And his detestable corruption,
          hated trespass;
Here is the complaint of a wretched soul,
    "A filthy sinner I am,
Having drowned in wretchedness,
    In my hardship, under my sickness."

God is changing ungodly man
And leading him from the unspiritual Egypt;
  Where the naked soul is about to freeze,
  In defilement polluting itself,
He is remaining in untruth
    And a sea of vast corruption,
Until getting a conversion and a return,
    The exchange of a righteous work;
There is neither intense power nor a good
    Will in any man,
And the feeble, weakest success cannot
    With his merit save himself.

When a man sees his lost estate
He turns into a trembling
      complete scoundrel,
  The weak, needy wretch will raise
  To the King of heaven his weeping cry:
"Life! Life for me, my Lord!"
    This is his trembling cry,
"Heavenly Lord, merciful Father,
    Repentant am I!"
From the pure abode of the Trinity
    Shall come to him full release,
Deliverance from mortality
    And Salvation, the highest gift.

The way of the cross is
      the way of the Christian,
A way that is full of every danger:
  One must go through the midst
        of a host of enemies
  To Beulah land through adversities;
One must cross a road of evils,
    The wretched children of the age,
Under griefs, great troubles, must
    The true Christian carry the cross;
The saving, delivering faith
    Of the notable grace of heaven
Is casting sin from its authority,
    It cannot reconcile itself with it.

A look upon Jesus, bloody
Under our burden, bearing our penalty 
  Shall work in us repentance,
  True obedience and thanksgiving;
Seeing the virtuous, sacrificial, offered
    Blood, full of fruit,
And seeing the Surety suffering pains
    Under the reprisals of
          Adam and his tribe,
Gets the realising and revelation
    Of the love of worthy Jesus
Which causes the cruel, hard heart
    Of the prodigal son to go to pieces.

Together we all must enquire broadly
What is the root of our testimony;
  Do we see the true cause
  Here to sing early morning praise?
Exquisitely wonderful is the incarnation,
    The humanity of the
          Son of the God of heaven,
A true second Adam, the Lion of Judah
    Who went to the slaughter in our place;
Praise, praise and glory
    True success unfailingly,
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
    To the Lamb who was on Calvary forever.

Here is the theme of an excellent song,
That is the patience of Jesus our Prince,
  No saint or pure-white seraph possesses
  Within heaven a better theme;
All the obedient servants of Jesus
    Who are singing notes sweetly,
A memory that is doubtless about his wounds
    In the choir of the saints
        in the citadel of the stars!
Shall be pure endless jubilation
    And acclaim to his majesty,
Effective fruits
      from the benefit of his pangs
    Which ignite all the songs of heaven!