Po dryma'r groes agosa'r nef

Po dryma'r groes, agosa'r nef,
  Agosa'r nef,
      ysgafna'r groes
Yr ysgwydd wan
    daw'n ysgwydd gref,
  A theimlir mwy o
      hedd na loes.

Po dryma'r groes
    mwy taer ein cri,
  Y llysiau briw arogla'n bêr;
Y dywel nôs wna i forwyr hy
  Hyderus chwilio am y sêr.

Po dryma'r groes, melysa'r gân
  A mwy'r llawenydd dan y fron;
O flaen gorsedfainc Salem lân,
  Try gorthrymderau'n salmau llon.

The heavier the cross, the closer heaven,
  The closer heaven,
      the lighter the cross;
The weak shoulder will
    become a strong shoulder.
  And more peace than
      anguish will be felt.

The heavier the cross
    the more earnest our cry,
  The bruised herbs smell sweet;
The dark night will make
    the confident, bold
  Sailor search for the star.

The heavier the cross,
    the sweeter the song
  And greater the joy under the breast;
Before the throne of holy Salem,
  Oppressions turn into joyful psalms.