Yr Eneth gadd ei Gwrthod / The Rejected Maiden
Alaw/Melody - 'There's Love among the Roses' (Tradd./Trad.)
Geiriau/Words - John Jones 'Llew o'r Wern' (1833-1909)

Ar lan hen afon Ddyfrdwy ddofn
Eistedda glân forwynig
Gan ddistaw sisial wrthi’i hun
“Gadawyd fi yn unig
Heb gar na chyfaill yn y byd
Na chartref chwaith fynd iddo
Drws tŷ fy nhad sydd wedi'i gloi,
'Rwy'n wrthodedig heno.

Mae bys gwaradwydd ar fy ol
Yn nodi fy ngwendidau
A llanw 'mywyd wedi ei droi
A'i gladdu dan y tonnau.
Ar allor chwant aberthwyd fi,
Do, collais fy morwyndod
A dyna'r achos pam yr wyf
Fi heno wedi ‘ngwrthod.

Ti frithyll fach sy'n chwarae'n llon
Yn nyfroedd glân yr afon
Mae gennyt ti gyfeillion fyrdd
A noddfa rhag gelynion
Cei fyw a marw o dan y dŵr
Heb un dyn dy adnabod
O! na chawn innau fel tydi
Gael marw, ac dyna darfod.

Ond hedeg mae fy meddwl prudd
I fyd sydd eto i ddyfod,
A chofia dithau fradwr tost
Rhaid i ti fy nghyfarfod
Ond meddwl am dy enw di
A byw sydd i mi’n ormod.
O, afon ddofn, derbynia fi,
Caf wely ar dy waelod.”

A’r bore trannoeth cafwyd hi
Yn nyfroedd oer yr afon,
A darn o bapur yn ei llaw
Ac arno'r ymadroddion
“Gwnewch i mi fedd mewn unig fan
Na chodwch faen na chofnod
I nodi'r fan lle gorwedd llwch
Yr Eneth gadd ei Gwrthod.”

On the banks of the old river Dee
A pure maiden sits
Whispering quietly to herself
“I’ve been left lonely
Without a love or a friend in the world
Nor a home to go to,
the door of my father’s house is locked,
tonight I am rejected.

The finger of shame is after me
Highlighting my weakneses
And the tide of my life has turned
And is buried under the waves.
On the alter of lust I was sacrificed,
Yes, I lost my virginity,
And that’s the reason why
I’m rejected tonight.

You little trout that plays joyfully
In the pure waters of the river,
You have many friends
And shelter from enemies
You may live and die under the water
With no one having to know you,
Oh if I could only be like you
I could die, and that would be the end.

But my sorrowfull mind flies away
To a world that’s yet to come,
And you, my harsh traitor, remember,
You must meet me there!
I need only think of your name
And living is too much for me.
Oh, deep river, accept me,
Your bed shall be my bed.”

And the next morning she was found
In the cold water of the river,
With a piece of paper in her hand
And on it, these words:
“Dig me a grave in a lonely place,
Don’t raise a stone or write an ephigy,
To denote the place where lies the dust
Of the rejected maiden.”