Galargan Dŵr Tryweryn / The lament for Tryweryn’s water
Alaw/Melody - 'Son Ar Hafe' (Tradd. Llydewig/Trad. Breton)
Geiriau/Words - Wmffre Ll. Wmffres (1934-)

Mae gen i awydd ganu cân
Wel dewch yn nes pob jocyn
O fawl i’r ddiod fel y tân
A wnaed o ddŵr Tryweryn
Lle mae’r gogoniant gynt a fu,
Gymry cu, aeth o’m tŷ

Does dim sy’n well i ddyn
Na joch o ddŵr Tryweryn

Hwn oedd yn ddiod heb ei ail
At bob rhyw afiechydon,
Yn well nag unrhyw ddiod dail
I atgyfodi cleifion.
Fron-goch oedd gystal ag un spa
At bob pla, Iechyd da!

Roedd arfer yn y dyddiau gynt
I’w ganmol ac i’w yfed
Ond fe ddaeth newid yn y gwynt,
Daeth melltith mothodistaeth!
Felly nawr does gennym ni’m hawl
I ganu mawl i ddŵr y diawl

Chi fethodistiaid calfin cas
Pam buoch chi mor greulon?
 gwrthod rhoddi moddion gras
I wan, sychedig ddynion,
Bydd diwygiadau dros y wlad,
Bydd na’n tad, pan cawn rhyddhad.

I’m in the mood to sing you a song,
Come closer all you jokers,
A song of praise to the drink like fire
That’s made from Tryweryn’s water
Where is the glory that once was,
Dear people of Wales, It’s gone away

There’s nothing better for a man
Than a tipple of Tryweryn’s water

This was a drink that was second to none
for curing all diseases,
Better than any herbal drink
To resurrect the poorly,
Fron-goch was equal to any Spa
to treat your ailments, Cheers to that!

It used to be, in the good old times,
That the drink was drunk and praised,
But the winds of change were blowing
The curse of Methodism came!
So now, we don’t have the right
To sing the praises of the devil’s water

You mean Calvinistic Methodists,
Why were you so cruel?
Refusing to give this holy medicine
To weak and thirsty men.
There will be reformations across the country!
Yes there will! When we get our freedom!