Cainc yr Aradwr
Fe gwyd yr haul er machlud heno,
Fe gwyd y lloer yn ddisglair eto,
Cwyd blodau haf o’r ddaear dirion,
Ond byth!, O! byth ni chwyd fy nghalon.
Ho! da ‘machgen i,
Ho! dere dere, O! dere dere Ho! Hai ho!
Fe gwn yr haul, fe gwn y lleuad,
Fe gwn y môr yn donnau irad,
Fe gwn y gwynt yn uchel ddigon:
Ni chwn yr hiraeth byth o ‘nghalon.
More…
Cainc yr Aradwr
The Ploughman’s Song
There are many songs from the tradition of the ploughmen and ox-drivers , particularly from Glamorganshire.
From the National Museum Wales’ website:
“For centuries some kind of musical calls have been used to urge oxen at work. Many examples have been preserved of the stanzas (together with call appended) formerly sung to oxen ploughing teams in the southern half of Wales – it was there, and in Glamorgan specifically, that oxen were last retained for ploughing Welsh soil (until around 1880). The texts of most of the oxen songs chronicled in Glamorgan are in the free metre known as triban. A large number of these are love or triad stanzas, and the finest among them display rare terseness and wit. The majority are self–contained units but ox–drivers at work would naturally sing several together in a series.”
The notation for this song and more is available in the collection 100 O Ganeuon Gwerin
http://www.ylolfa.com/products/9781847715999/100-o-ganeuon-gwerin
Fe gwyd yr haul er machlud heno,
Fe gwyd y lloer yn ddisglair eto,
Cwyd blodau haf o’r ddaear dirion,
Ond byth!, O! byth ni chwyd fy nghalon.
Ho! da ‘machgen i,
Ho! dere dere, O! dere dere Ho! Hai ho!
Fe gwn yr haul, fe gwn y lleuad,
Fe gwn y môr yn donnau irad,
Fe gwn y gwynt yn uchel ddigon:
Ni chwn yr hiraeth byth o ‘nghalon.
Fe gwn yr haul pan ddêl boreddydd,
Fe gwn y tarth oddi ar y dolydd,
Fe gwn y gwlith oddi ar y meillion:
Gwae fi, pa bryd y cwn fy nghalon?
Mi wn am ferch yn Sir Forgannwg,
Yn deg ei thwf, yn hardd ei golwg,
A’i gwallt modrwyog, bronnau gwynion,
A duwch uffern yn ei chalon.
The sun will rise despite setting tonight
The moon will rise again, shining,
Summer flowers will rise from the gentle earth
But never, never will my heart rise
Chorus (to the oxen)
Ho! my boy
Ho, come come O! come, come, Ho! Hi ho!
I know the sun, I know the moon
I know the sea with its waves
I know the wind, plenty high
I will never know the hiraeth gone from my heart
I know the sun when daybreak comes
I know the mist on the meadows
I know the dew on the clover
Woe is me, when will I know my heart?
I know a girl in Glamorganshire
She grows fair, beautiful to see
With her hair in ringlets, white breasts
And the blackness of hell in her heart
CONTACT US+
trac
PO Box 205
BARRY CF63 9FF
01446 748 556
trac@trac-cymru.org
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