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Arenig
Cerddoriaeth / Music - GBRh
Geiriau / Lyrics - Euros Bowen (1904-1988)
Trefniant / Arrangement - GBRh, GM

Y cynefino a’i gwnaethai’n fynydd. Ond un hwyr o haf fe wrthododd fod yn fynydd.

 

Aeth yn rhyfedd iawn. Aeth yn grugiau o gyneddfau porffor a gwyrdd, yn gruglwythi galluoedd glas a phinc, yn garneddau o rymusterau coch a du.

 

Ei hen arfer oedd sefyll yn wyneb haul ben bore, a chuddio’r ymachlud cyn nos, derbyn yr ŵyn pan ddôi yn wanwyn, a dangos yr eira cyntaf bob gaeaf. Ac erbyn meddwl prin y byddem yn sylwi ar y swyddogaethau hyn, heblaw cymryd yn ganiataol mai dyma’r math o beth y gellid ei ddisgwyl gan fynydd yn y lle yr oedd ac o’r llun a feddai. Arhosai yng nghartrefolrwydd ei gysylltiadau o dymor i dymor ac o genhedlaeth i genhedlaeth. Ni fynnai ddifynyddu. Ni fynnai fod yn wahanol ymysg perthnasau o’i gwmpas. O fore i fore dangosai ei hen hunaniaeth, a’i chadw’n ddinewid o nos i nos.

 

Ond un hwyr o haf fe wrthododd fod yn fynydd. Aeth yn fflamiau a dangos ei liwiau, a’r cwbl ohono’n torri allan yn grugiau o gyneddfau porffor a gwyrdd, yn gruglwythi galluoedd glas a phinc, yn garneddau o rymusterau coch a du.

 

O’i weld felly ni allwn ond synnu, gan faint y rhyfeddodau a welwn yn y tân.

 

Mae yna ryfeddodau mewn bywyd …

It was the movement of sheep from fold to fold that made her a mountain.

 

But one late summer’s eve, she refused to remain a mountain. She became very strange. She became cairns of purple and green virtues; masses of blue and pink powers; mounds of black and red forces.

 

Her old habit was to stand facing the morning sun; and at nightfall, to hide its setting rays. Her old habit was to receive the lambs when spring arrived, and to catch every winter’s first dusting of snow. And thinking of it now, we would hardly notice these functions, other than taking for granted that those were the kind of things that could be expected of a mountain of her position and form. In the familiarity of her surroundings from season to season and from generation to generation, she remained. She had no wish to demountainize herself. She had no wish to be different amongst her relations, who gathered around. Every morning she presented her old identity, and remained that way through every night.

 

But one late summer’s eve, she refused to remain a mountain. Ablaze, she bared her true colours, and broke out all over in cairns of purple and green virtues; masses of blue and pink powers; mounds of black and red forces.

 

And seeing her that way I could but stand and stare, so vast were the wonders I saw in the fire.

 

There are wonders in life …

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