Gwirwyd y dudalen hon
The white foam is fringing
The edge of the sand,
As white as the leaflet
I hold in my hand :
The curlew above us
Is whirled, like a cry,
In fear of God's tempest
And anger on high.
Our Father, remiember
The sailor by night;
So vast is Thy ocean,
His vessel so slight.
Cyfieithydd:
J. W. WYNNE-JONES, M.A.,
Ficer Caernarfon.
