Y dawel nos ymdaena

Y dawel nos ymdaena
Dros fryniau Galilea
  A'r glas aflonydd lyn,
A'r Iesu'n dringo weithian
Yn araf wrtho'i hunan
  I borth y nef
      ar ben y bryn.

Mae'r adar yn noswylio,
A'r olaf un y brysio
  I'w nyth ar lan y llyn:
Os Iesu Grist fydd heno
Heb le i'w ben orffwyso,
  Caiff gwmni'r Tad
      ar ben y bryn.

Pan gwyd y gwynt yn uchel,
A'r tonnau fel mewn rhyfel
  Yn rhuthro dros y llyn,
I achub ei gyfeillion
Daw Iesu Grist yn brydlon
  O borth y nef
      ar ben y bren.

The quiet night spreads
Across the hills of Galilee
  And the blue, restless lake,
With Jesus climbing now
Slowly by himself
  To the gate of heaven
      on the summit of the hill.

The birds are turning in for the night,
And the last one hurrying
  To its nest on the shore of the lake:
But Jesus Christ shall tonight
Have nowhere for his head to lie,
  He shall have the company of the Father
      on the summit of the hill.

When the wind rises high,
And the waves as if in a battle
  Roaring across the lake,
To save his friends
Jesus Christ shall come promptly
  From the gate of heaven
      on the summit of the hill.