powileir

EIRLYSIAU	SNOWDROPS
Waldo Williams	trans. Joseph Clancy
Gwyn, gwyn Yw'r gynnar dorf ar lawr y glyn. O'r ddaear ddu y nef a'u myn. Golau a'u pryn o'u gwely pridd A rhed y gwanwyn yn ddi-glwy O'u cyffro hwy uwch cae a ffridd. Pur, pur, Wynebau perl y cyntaf fflur. Er eu gwyleidd-dra fel y dur I odde' cur ar ruddiau cain, I arwain cyn y tywydd braf Ymdrech yr haf. Mae dewrach 'rhain? Glân, glân, Y gwynder cyntaf yw eu cân. Pan elo'r rhannau ar wahân Ail llawer tân fydd lliwiau'r tud. Ond glendid glendid yma dardd O enau'r Bardd sy'n lliunio'r byd.	White, white. The early throng down the glen is bright. They are claimed by heaven from earth's dark night, Ransomed by light from their bed beneath, And the untainted springtime flows From their commotion on field and heath. Pure, pure, The pearl face of the first flower. Their delicate cheeks, although demure, Like steel endure the wind and cold, and lead before the splendid weather Summer's endeavour. None more bold. Chaste, chaste, With the first whiteness their song is graced. When the spectrum separates The land will blaze, its hues unfurled. But pureness, pureness blossoms now From the mouth of the Bard who forms the world.