Beth Nielsen Chapman
"Durrow"

Pwy welaf fel f'anwylyd
Yn hyfryd ac yn hardd
Fel ffrwythlon bren afalau'n
Rhagori ar brennau'r ardd?
Ces eistedd dan ei gysgod
Ar lawer vawod flin;
A'i ffrwyth oedd fil o weithiau
I'm genau'n well na'r gwin.

Gweld wyneb fy anwylyd
Wna i'm henaid lawenhau
Trwy'r cwbl ges i eto
Neu fydd gaf ei fwynhau
Pan elont hwy yn eishiau
Pam byddaf fin yn drist
Tra caffwyf weled wyneb
Siriolaf iesu grist?

Who can I compare to my beloved,
Beautiful and fair
Like a fruitful apple blossom
Finer than all the other trees there?
I was allowed to shelter beneath him
During many a thunderstorm,
And a thousand times more pleasing than wine
On my lips were the fruits of his form

Seeing my beloved's face
Makes my soul sing out in praise,
For all that I have had already,
And will have ‘till the end of my days;
When I lose these many blessings,
Why should I feel any sadness,
For while I can see Jesus Christ's fair face
My heart will be full of gladness