Words
Mae cofio mwynder cwmni llon,
Cyfeillion bach yr haf
Yn deffro hiraeth yn fy mron
Am wennau’r tywydd braf.
Mor felys yn y gaeaf du
Yw sôn am ddyddiau gwell
Daw’r blodau tlws a’r adar cu
Yn ôl o wledydd pell.
Cwyd wanwyn eto’r llygad dydd
O’i wely ar y bryn
A’r briallu aur o’r meillion fyrdd
Ymwêl a’r gloew lyn.
Mi ganaf, cryned storm fy nhrws
Am lifrau’r grug a’r drain
A cofio gemau effros tlws
Dry’r gaea’n hafddydd cain.
Cân bronfraith eto yn y llwyn
Nes swyno’r wlad fel cynt,
A’r hedydd gyda’i delyn fwyn
Rydd fawl ar dannau’r gwynt.
Daw’r wennol annwyl adre’n ôl
I lonni’r galon glâf
A chwydra’r gwcw cwm a dôl
Yng nghwmni’r hyfryd haf.
Translation
The memory of the gentle merry company
Of warblers
Wakes longing in my heart
For the smiles of fine weather.
So sweet in the dark winter
Is speaking of better days
The pretty flowers and the dear birds will come
Back from distant lands.
Spring will raise again the daisy
From its bed on the hill
And the golden primroses from the multitude of clover
Will visit the bright pool.
I will sing, the storm will shake my door
Flooding the heather and the thorn
And I will remember the bright pretty gems,
Through the winter, of the fine summer day.
A thrush will sing again in the bush
Until he enchants the land as before,
And the lark with his gentle harp
Free praise on the strings of the wind.
The beloved swallow will come back home
To cheer the sick heart
And the cuckoo will watch the valley and the meadow
In the company of the lovely summer.