Ngweddent rhen gwil i lla noeth fon llâ,
Edad wegl ardderew e ddilirarew a tharfin di ddiwrn;
Siath ffyriws contr lla forth di'll llyġ.
Benc ôn ddoeth a sew tarfin sabent yscyr es druith,
Perch llo sew pharol h-an fforchad no ffulyer ys
Ngweddent rhen gwil i lla noeth fon llâ.
Ôn fon, lla un yllif a buis, cridan ke si clar
Llo sew h-ober ffrael h-afrewn dansad in yn fai wirdd,
Siath ffyriws contr lla forth di'll llyġ.
Ôn fraw, ke gheithafant e channafant ill sul i ngwol,
E h-affrênent, tan di dardd, ys llo buinafant subr sew modd,
Ngweddent rhen gwil i lla noeth fon llâ.
Ôn seir , ke widden cu ngwist friliant
Llo h-ogl geg phoderewnt fflamar fil meteor e h-esser gwiwaġ,
Siath ffyriws contr lla forth di'll llyġ.
E thy, mew padr, llâ subr lla allyr drist,
Maldigeth, bendigeth, mi agur cu llo thew llagref ffaruġ, eo breg.
Ngwa rhen gwil i lla noeth fon llâ.
Siath ffyriws contr lla forth di'll llyġ.
They do not go gentle in that good night
Old age would burn and rave at end of day;
Rage against the death of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words have forked no bolt of lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night
Good men, the last wave by, cry out that so bright
Their frail works would have danced in the green bay,
Rage against the death of the light.
Wild men, who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they worried it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, who saw with brilliant sight
Blind eyes could flame like a meteor and be gay,
Rage against the death of the light.
And thou, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with thy fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage against the death of the light.