Dacw ’nghariad i lawr yn y berllan,
O na bawn i yno fy hunan,
Dacw’r tŷ a dacw’r ‘sgubor,
Dacw ddrws y beudy’n agor.
Dacw dderwen wych ganghennog,
Golwg arni sydd dra serchog,
Mi arhosaf dan ei chysgod
Nes daw `nghariad i `nghyfarfod.
Dacw’r delyn, dacw’r tannau,
Beth wyf well heb neb i’w chwarae?
Dacw’r feinwen hoenus fanwl,
Beth wyf well heb gael ei meddwl?
—My Love is Yonder
My love is yonder in the orchard; how I wish I could be there myself. Third verse: there’s the harp and its strings, but what use is it with no-one to play it? There’s my vivacious maiden, but what use is that if I can’t win her mind? Sung by a travelling taylor in Llangamarch, Breconshire, around 1828.
There’s my sweetheart down in the orchard,
Oh how I wish I were there myself!
There’s the house and there’s the barn;
There’s the door of the cowshed open.
There’s the magnificent branching oak,
Such a loving sight
I’ll wait in its shade
Until my love comes to meet me.
There’s the harp, there are its strings;
What better am I, with no-one to play for?
There’s my fine vivacious sweetheart
How much nearer am I, without gaining her attention?
A version by Eve Goodman on the Sofar channel