Nyni sy'n troi y meysydd

Nyni sy'n troi y meysydd,
  Nyni sy'n hau yr had,
Ond Duw sy'n rhoi y cynnydd -
  Gwres a chafodau mad;
Er meithrin y dywysen
  Fe ddenfyn wynt a glaw,
Y tes a'r oerni hefyd -
  Pob peth oddi wrtho ddaw.

    Rhoddion rhad a gwerthfawr
      O'r nef sy'n dod i lawr;
    I Ti, O! Dad, diolchwn am
      Dy gariad mawr.

Efe yn unig greodd
  Y pethau mân a mawr,
Fe roes ei lun i'r rhosyn
  A blodau heirdd y llawr;
Fe lywia lwybau'r gwyntoedd,
  Y tonnau'n ufudd sydd;
Fe bortha adar nefoedd,
  I ni ein bara rhydd.

I Ti, O! Dad, diolchwn
  Am roddion da di-ri',
Am amser hau a medi,
  Am fwyd ac iechyd cu;
O! derbyn 'nawr ein hoffrwm.
  Ein diolch-rodd i Ti,
Y rhodd wrth fodd dy galon -
  Ein hufudd galon ni.

'Tis we who turn the fields,
  'Tis we who sow the seed,
But 'tis God who gives the increase -
  Warmth and beneficial showers;
To nurture the growing ears
  He sends wind and rain,
The heat and the cold also -
  Everything comes from him.

    Gracious and precious gifts
      From heaven are coming down;
    To thee, O Father, we give thanks for
      Thy great love.

He alone created
  The small and great things,
He gave his design to the rose
  And the swarm of flowers to the earth;
He directs the paths of the winds,
  The waves are obedient;
He feeds the birds of the skies,
  To us our bread he gives.

To thee, O Father, we give thanks
  For unnumbered good gifts,
For seedtime and harvest-time,
  For food and dear health;
O receive now our offering!
  Our thank-gift to thee,
The gift to please thy heart -
  Our own obedient hearts.

We plough the fields and scatter
  The good seed on the land,
But it is fed and watered
  By God's almighty hand;
He sends the snow in winter,
  The warmth to swell the grain,
The breezes and the sunshine,
  And soft refreshing rain.

    All good gifts around us
      Are sent from heaven above,
    Then thank the Lord, O thank the Lord
      For all His love.

He only is the maker
  Of all things near and far;
He paints the wayside flower,
  He lights the evening star;
The winds and waves obey Him,
  By Him the birds are fed;
Much more to us, His children,
  He gives our daily bread.

We thank Thee, then, O Father,
  For all things bright and good,
The seed time and the harvest,
  Our life, our health, and food;
No gifts have we to offer,
  For all Thy love imparts,
But that which Thou desirest,
  Our humble, thankful hearts.

from the German
Wir pflügen und wir streuen
Matthias Claudius 1740-1815

Tune [7676D+6684]:
    Wir Pflügen (J A P Schutlz / J B Dykes)