1 O Arglwydd na cherydda fi,
ymhoethni dy gynddaredd:
Ac na chosba fi yn dy lid,
o blegid fy enwiredd.
2 O Arglwydd dy drugaredd dod,
wyf lesg mewn nychdod rhybrudd:
O Arglwydd dyrd, iacha fi'n chwyrn,
mae f'esgyrn i mewn cystudd.
3 A'm henaid i o'r llesgedd hyn,
y sydd mewn dychryn sceler:
Tithau O Arglwydd, paryw hyd?
rhoi arnaf ddybryd brudd-der.
4 Duw gwared f'enaid, dychwel di,
iacha fi a'th drugaredd:
5 Nid oes yn angau gof na hawl,
a phwy a'th fawl
o'r pridd-fedd.
6 Diffygiais gan ochain bob nos,
mewn gwal anniddos foddfa:
Rwy'n gwlychu drwy y cystudd mau,
a'm dagrau fy ngorweddfa.
7 O ddig i'm cas
a goddef drwg,
fy ngolwg sy'n tywyllu:
A chan y dwfr a red yn rhaff,
ynt angraff ac yn pylu.
8 Pob un a wnelo, aed ymhell,
na dichell nac enwiredd:
Cans clybu yr Arglwydd fy llais,
pan lefais am drugaredd.
9 Yr Arglwydd clybu ef fy arch,
rhof finnau barch a moliant:
Fe dderbyn fy ngweddi, a'm gwaedd,
am hyn yr haedd ogoniant.
10 Fe wradwyddir,
fe drallodir
yn ddir fy ngelynion:
Ac fo'u dychwelir
drwy fefl glwth,
hwynt yn ddisymwth ddigon.
- - - - -
1,2,(3),4,5; 1,(3),4,5.
(1)
O Arglwydd! na cherydda fi
Yn mhoethni dy gynddaredd;
Ac na chosba fi yn dy lid,
O blegid fy anwiredd.
(2a)
O Arglwydd! dy drugaredd dôd,
Wyf lesg mewn nychdod beunydd;
O Arglwydd! tyr'd, iachâ fi'n chwyrn,
Mae f'esgyrn oll mewn cystudd.
(2b)
[O trugarha, fy Arglwydd, 'rwyf
Yn curio trwy fy ngofid;
Mae f'esgyrn briw,
a'm cnawd, bob cam,
Yn gwaeddi am dy iechyd.]
(3)
Gan bwys fy mai,
a baich fy nghur,
Yr wyf yn bur ofidus;
O Dduw, pa hyd ymguddi di,
A'm henaid i'n drallodus?
(4)
Duw, gwared f'enaid, dychwel di,
Iachâ fi â'th drugaredd;
Nid oes yn angeu gôf na hawl;
A phwy a'th fawl
o'r pridd-fedd?
(5)
Yr Arglywydd, clybu ef fy arch,
Rhof finnau
barch a moliant;
Fe dderbyn weddi'r tlawd
a'i waedd,
Am hyn fe haedd ogoniant.
fe haedd :: yr haedd
Tonau [MS 8787]:
gwelir: |
1 O Lord do not chastise me,
in the heat of thy wrath:
And do not chastise me in thine anger,
because of my wrong.
2 O Lord, my thy mercy come,
I am feeble in sudden langour;
O Lord, come, heal me vigorously,
my bones are in affliction.
3 And my soul, from this feebleness,
is in dire terror:
How long wilt thou, O Lord, continue
to put upon me sudden sadness?
4 God, deliver my soul, return thou,
heal me with thy mercy:
5 There is in death no memory or praise,
and who shall praise thee
from the soil grave?
6 I fainted with groaning every night,
In a comfortless sodden bed
I am wetting through my affliction,
with my tears, my couch.
7 From anger to my enemies
and suffering evil,
my sight is growing dark:
And since the water runs like a rope,
my eyes go dull and fade.
8 Every one who does, let him go afar off,
either deceit or falsehood:
Since the Lord heard my voice,
when I cried for mercy.
9 The Lord, he heard my demand,
I shall render reverence and praise:
He receives my prayer, and my shout,
for this he deserves glory.
10 They shall be disgraced,
they shall be troubled
in the land of my enemies:
And they shall be turned back
through voracious shame
suddenly enough.
- - - - -
(1)
O Lord, do not chastise me
In the heat of thy wrath;
Nor punish me in thy anger,
Because of my falsehood!
(2a)
O Lord, let thy mercy come!
I am faint in languor daily;
O Lord, come, heal me swiftly,
All my bones are in affliction.
(2b)
[O have mercy, my Lord! I am
Wasting away through my grief;
My broken bones, and my flesh,
are every step,
Shouting for thy healing.]
(3)
With the weight of my fault,
and the burden of my beating,
I am purely vexed;
O God, how long wilt thou hide thyself,
While my soul is troubled?
(4)
God, deliver my soul, return,
Heal me with thy mercy;
In death there is no memory or claim;
And who will praise thee
from the grave?
(5)
The Lord, he heard my entreaty,
As for me,
I will render honour and praise;
He will receive the prayer of the poor
and his shout,
For this he deserves glory.
:: tr. 2010 Richard B Gillion |
1 Thy dreadful anger, Lord, restrain,
and spare a wretch forlorn;
Correct me not in thy fierce wrath,
too heavy to be borne.
2 Have mercy, Lord, for I grow faint,
unable to endure,
The anguish of my aching bones,
which thou alone can cure.
3 My tortured flesh distracts my mind,
and fills my soul with grief;
But, Lord, how long will thou delay
to grant me thy relief?
4 Thy wonted goodness, Lord, repeat,
and ease my troubled soul;
Lord, for thy wondrous mercy's sake
vouchsafe to make me whole.
5 For after death no more can I
thy glorious acts proclaim;
No pris'ner of the silent grave
can magnify thy name.
6 Quite tired with pain,
with groaning faint,
no hope of ease I see;
The night, that quiets common griefs,
is spent in tears by me.
7 My beauty fades, my sight grows dim,
my eyes with weakness close;
Old age o'ertakes me, while I think
on my insulting foes.
8 Depart, you wicked, in my wrongs
you shall no more rejoice;
For god, I find, accepts my tears,
and listens to my voice.
9 He hears and grants my humble pray'r;
and they that wish my fall,
10 Shall blush and rage to see that God
protects me from them all.
- - - - -
1 Thy dreadful anger, Lord, restrain,
and spare a wretch forlorn;
Correct me not in thy fierce wrath,
too heavy to be borne.
2 Have mercy, Lord, for I grow faint,
unable to endure,
The anguish of my aching bones,
which thou alone can cure.
[2 Have mercy, Lord, for I grow faint,
unable to endure,
The anguish of
my aching bones,
which thou alone can cure.]
3 My tortured flesh
distracts my mind,
and fills my soul with grief;
But, Lord, how long will thou delay
to grant me thy relief?
4 Thy wonted goodness, Lord, repeat,
and ease my troubled soul;
Lord, for thy wondrous mercy's sake
vouchsafe to make me whole.
5 For after death no more can I
thy glorious acts proclaim;
No pris'ner
of the silent grave
can magnify thy name.
9 He hears and grants my humble pray'r;
and they
that wish my fall,
10 Shall blush and rage
to see that God
protects me from them all.
N Tate & N Brady |