hynt in english

impo budding

even cutting the branch of king of the trees
with a sharp axe suddenly
instead of every branch from the unfragile trunk
it can bud thirty
there are many hill heads from the dinas to penllyn
and meadows to follow to the bottom of clwyd valley
no matter how wild the rocks are around dolgellau
rougher than anywhere is ganllwyd
king of the trees of ganllwyd was dear was cut
in barbarity it was knocked from the place it was
it grew to be a captain - it didn't waste an acorn
in the lovely dales of glyn eden it was
it was a manly wood and it's tempers wonderful
and everyone praised it of the peoples of the world
and the old godly fathers - exceptional wise ones
kept living its life
in spite of burying the king of the trees under the covering of the floor
one acorn grew to a fair branch exceptional
on this grows green leaves - frequent may its small leaves be
the root is in an exceptional old ruin

wasod heat

here's the wood i'm cutting
for the boy i love
the number of leaves shining on it
make the letters of his name
straight ash i'm cutting it
on the tree it's growing
if someone chances for me
i'll see him before tomorrow night
straight ash i'm cutting you
from the wood where you are growing
and the first boy that comes to meet me
he will be my dear lover
mistletoe my business is with me
in spite of my parents I will have fun all the time
it is in ten years I will go away
my parents do not want to let to me have fun
mistletoe my dreams are with me
in spite of my parents I will dream all the time
it is in five years I will go away
my parents do not want to let me dream
many times i've been considering
what to do about my lover
my father says he doesn't like him
i'd rather pass him by
mistletoe my song is with me
in spite of my parents I will sing all the time
it is in four years I will go away
my parents do not want to let me sing
i want a chain of nineplaited silver
to make a bridge on the wide teifi
my hair will be a guide on it
for the boy who's crossing it
i've got a branch of rosemary
on top of the door it's growing
when my darling passes by
the branch blossoms

grey cock

it was all on some summer evening
i heared a pretty fair maid
she was mourning she was weeping for her father
grieving for her mother
thinking all on her true love john
at last johnny came
he found the doors all shut
he rang at the gate he rang till
the pretty fair maid arose
to put on her clothes
to make haste
to let johnny come in
johnny he come in
all round the waist he caught her
and into the bed he brought her
they lay there a talking a while
she said my pretty feathered fowl
you're the prettiest feathered fowl i ever saw
if you won't crow until it's almost day
your comb will be the pure ivory
and your wings of a silver grey
him being very young
he crowed two hours before it was day
and she sent her love away by the light of the moon
thinking it was almost day
said oh my dear johnny when will you be back to see me again
said when the seventh moon is past and shines on yonders lea
and you know that will never be
oh what a foolish girl was i
to think that my love was as true
as the rocks grow to the ground
but since i found he's altered in mind
it's better to live single than bound
knocking i've been in lonely desperation
the window of an plain girl
failing to wake her
made me go away
the weather will freeze the summer
when i try next night
i want to collect the fog and catch it
and tie it in sacks
along the moors morning and evening
before i give up completely on her company
i want that come what may
before i sing farewell to her
sometimes in london sometimes in chester
and sometimes grievous for her
sometimes sleeping alone in a cell
but always far from her
i would cross a lonely moor
to be close to her
i must be going no longer staying
the burning thames i have to cross
o i must be guided without a stumble
into the arms of my own true love
o willie dear o dearest willie
where is that colour you'd times ago
o mary dear the clay has changed me
i'm but the ghost of your willie o
the cock it crew and crew so fully
it crew three hours before it was day
and it was then that my love departed
not by the moon or the light of day
o willie dear o dearest willie
when shall i see my love again
when fish they fly love and the seas run dry love
and the rocks they melt in the heat of the sun
titrwm tatrwm gwen colour of the lambs
colour of the sweet clover i'm knocking
the wind is cold coming from the lake
o flower of the valley wake up
blow the fire to light quickly
its rough on me tonight

gwalchnutty man

i'll do every skill skillfully
i'll make a sour apple sweet
i'll make whethers give lambs
and the bramble branch a fig tree
i'll do every task without fault
i'll carry water in a sieve
i'll fly from here to the north
on the back of a loaf of bread
i've got a white faced bull
with twenty four horns
and a cow that brings a calf every month
it only cost ten bob
three things are hard to know
a man an oak and a day
the wood twists and the day turns
and the man is two faced
it's not a deceit to deceive a deceiver
it's not a betrayal to betray a betrayer
it's not a theft i know well
to thieve from a thief
i went to henfedde fair
i bought a black mare
and a pound i gave for her and great was my loss
i fed the old mare on water and oats and bran
until the old creature went
to fat to move a step
the old mare died
and her heart became like two
and left me then
unable to buy more
the crows and magpies came
to ask the price of the meat
one magpie said
there's enough for us all
i bought a horse from some man
and he was a rogue like me
i offered him twenty pounds
for a strong horse not broken in
the man said you know the form
i jumped on the horses back
i gave the whip to the old black horse
i clicked my thumb and i was gone
the policeman shouted catch the man
and i shouted the same myself
and even though there were people two or three hundred
i clicked my thumb and i was gone
you people now who are listening
big and small
to get another mare
give a penny for the song

neithor wedding party

i'll sing a piece of joy
if you'll all be civil
about a little black cobbler from llanddewi
who stands up so straight
little black cobbler to the shoe
little black cobbler to the lace
little black cobbler to the boot
he pressed her to his breast
i'll go to a wedding tomorrow
on the back of my big blue mare
and she's ten feet and a half
her hight from her mane to the floor

clangeia winter's eve

i went when i was a lad
to sion the blacksmith in gellan
to get iron to cut peat
one afternoon by myself
will and lewys leyshon were
mending their cauldron handles
and shorsi wil and shoni sam
were talking about spectres
the spirit of sian was carding
and twisting with her hands
and the spirit of georgie bach penhill
and the spirit of wil shaving
wiliam puw of the mill came in
with nel laughing
talking about mari mwms' spirit
following twm penderyn
gold finishes silver finishes
velvet finishes silk finishes
every cloth finishes
in spite of this - longing never finishes
deep longing cruel longing
longing is breaking my heart
when i'm sleeping deepest at night
longing comes and wakes me
the spectre of a greyhound was seen
on the brow of the hill, crossing
and the spirit of the lad of gelli thorn
and the spirit of a horn sounding
the spirits of cats were mewing
and the spirits of hens clucking
and the spirit of the maid of shorsi wil
snoring in the chimney breast
talking about gwrach y rhipyn
the fairies and goblins
and some devil of evil intent
that keeps the place in fear
sometimes there's the spirit of a funeral
where the big and the small are equal
and the sound of pigs making a noise
and the sound of dogs fighting

hynt road/journey

i'm the young man
who's carrying the heavy heart
and now i have to leave
and over the ninth wave
when i go over the tenth
you can sing aloud
i'll never return
to dyffryn clettwr
when i come home next time
there'll be big changes here
lead will float on the waves
like blue ducks on a lake
white cherry blossom will be
like sloes
before i eventually return
to dyffryn clettwr
i'm the young collier
just come from the country
gaffer on a face
earning more than my father
i can cut well and i can cut badly
i can haul underneath
and fill four drams
i'm earning big money
and it's all saved
and when may comes
i'll go down to the sea
and i'll go to london on mayday
if i'm alive and well
and i won't wait for the pits
to break my heart