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Ni Sydd Ar Ôl - Steve Eaves (geiriau / lyrics)

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Uploaded on Sep 12, 2011

Can/Song: Nid Sydd Ar Ôl (We Who're Left Behind)
Canwr/Singer: Steve Eaves
Album: Moelyci

Prynwch Moelyci / Buy Moelyci:
http://www.sadwrn.com/cd.asp?id=441 (they ship internationally)

Cefndir yr Albwm / The Background to the Album:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moelyci_...

Welsh Music Blog / Blog Cerddoriaeth Cymraeg:
http://welshmusic-cerddoriaethcymraeg...

Twitter:
http://twitter.com/#!/Welsh_Music

"Cyflwynir y gan yma gyda chariad mawr i bawb o 'nheulu ac aelodau'r band a ffrindiau a gollodd anwyliaid yn ystod y 6 blynedd tra oedd yr albym yma ar y gweill. Dyma fy nghan i ni sydd ar ol yma ar dir y byw, efo'n hatgofion a'n colled, yn dal i garu a chwerthin a chrio a mwynhau'r haf a chan yr adar yn y boreau."

"This song is dedicated with much love to all my family, band members and friends who lost loved ones during the 6 years that this album was in the making. This is my song to us who were left behind here in the land of the living, with our memories and our loss, still loving and laughing and crying and enjoying the summer and the birdsongs in the mornings."

Geiriau:
Diar annwyl, o mam bach,
mae ddoe mor gythreulig o bell.
Roedd hi yma yn ein plith ni yn cerdded y lon las,
roedd bywyd yn fwynach, yn well.
Erbyn hyn mae'n cerdded gororau ein dydd,
mae'n awel gynnes dros afon a phridd,
wedi gadael ei llyfra' a holl betha'r byd,
ei brwsh a'i dillad, a ninnau i gyd -
ni sydd ar ol.

Hen dro creulon - gweld nhw yn ein cwsg
a deffro mewn dryswch a siom.
'Dan ni'n gweld eu wynebau yn pasio mewn ceir,
'dan ni'n disgwyl eu lleisiau ar y ffon.
A daeth y gwcw'n ol eto i ganu ar y waun
a'r wennol i'r bondo fel pob haf o'r blaen.
Aros am sbelan, gadael dim ol,
a'n gadael ni'n unig ar ochr y Foel -
ni sydd ar ol.

O mor denau yw'r edau;
simsan yw'r tir dan ein traed.
Ond sbiwch, bobol, mae 'na hogyn bach blwydd oed
yn gwenu'n fawr ar ei daid.

ENGLISH TRANSLATION:
Well sure enough, and yes indeed,
yesterday's such a terribly long time ago.
She was here among us, walking the bridle path,
life was gentler, life was better.
But now she walks the border-country of our days,
she's a warm breeze over rivers and sheep pastures,
having left her books and all her worldly things,
and her brush and her clothes, and all of us too -
we who're left behind.

It's such a cruel thing -- to see them in our sleep
and awaken confused and disappointed.
We see their faces in passing cars,
we expect to hear their voices on the 'phone.
And the cuckoo returned again to sing on the heathland
and the swallow returned to the eaves, like every other year before.
They stayed for a while and left without trace,
then left us here lonely on the side of the mountain --
we who're left behind.

Oh how fine is the thread;
the ground beneath our feet is so unsteady.
But just look, friends -- here's a one year old little boy
wearing a big smile for his grandfather.

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