Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau

Mae hênwlad fy nhadau yn anwyl i mi,
Gwlad beirdd a chantorion, enwogion o fri;
Ei gwrol ryfelwyr, gwladgarwyr tra mâd,
Tros ryddid gollasant eu gwaed.

Gwlad, gwlad, pleidiol wyf i'm gwlad,

Tra môr yn fur i'r bur hoff bau,

O bydded i'r heniaith barhau.

Hên Gymru fynyddig, paradwys y bardd,
Pob dyffryn, pob clogwyn, i'm golwg sydd hardd;
Trwy deimlad gwladgarol, mor swynol yw sî
Ei nentydd, afonydd, i fi.

Gwlad, &c.

Os treisiodd y gelyn fy ngwlad dan ei droed,
Mae heniaith y Cymry mor fyw ag erioed,
Ni luddiwyd yr awen gan erchyll law brâd,
Na thelyn bêrseiniol fy ngwlad.

Gwlad, &c.

Oh! land of my fathers, the land of the free.
The home of the Teylyn,¹ so soothing to me,
Thy noble defenders were gallant and brave,
For thy freedom their hearts' life they gave!

Wales, Wales, my mother's sweet home is in Wales,

Till death be pass'd my love shall last,

My longing, my hiraeth² for Wales.

Thou Eden of bards, and birth-place of song,
The sons of thy mountains are valiant and strong;
The voice of thy streamlets is soft to the ear,
Thy hills and thy vallies how dear!

Wales, &c.

Though trampled and crush'd by oppression's foul wrong,
The language of Cambria still lives on in song;
The Awen survives, nor have envious tales
Yet silenced the harp of dear Wales.

Wales, &c.

The land of my fathers, the land of my choice,
The land in which poets and minstrels rejoice;
The land whose stern warriors were true to the core,
While bleeding for freedom of yore.

Wales! Wales! favorite land of Wales!

While sea her wall, may nought befall

To mar the old language of Wales!

Mountainous old Cambria, the Eden of bards,
Each hill and each valley, excite my regards;
To the ears of her patriots how charming still seems
The music that flows in her streams.

Wales, &c.

My country, though crush'd by a hostile array,
The language of Cambria lives out to this day;
The muse has eluded the traitors' foul knives, The harp of my country survives.

Wales, &c.

¹ The Welsh or Triple Harp, the national instrument of Wales.

² Yearning.

Offizieller walisischer Text

Mae hen wlad fy nhadau yn annwyl i mi,
Gwlad beirdd a chantorion, enwogion o fri;
Ei gwrol ryfelwyr, gwladgarwyr tra mâd,
Tros ryddid gollasant eu gwaed.

Gwlad, gwlad, pleidiol wyf i'm gwlad.

Tra mor yn fur i'r bur hoff bau,

O bydded i'r hen iaith barhau.

Hen Gymru fynyddig, paradwys y bardd,
Pob dyffryn, pob clogwyn i'm golwg sydd hardd;
Trwy deimlad gwladgarol, mor swynol yw si
Ei nentydd, afonydd, i mi.

Os treisiodd y gelyn fy ngwlad tan ei droed,
Mae hen iaith y Cymry mor fyw ag erioed,
Ni luddiwyd yr awen gan erchyll law brad,
Na thelyn berseiniol fy ngwlad.

Englische Nachdichtung

O land of my fathers, O land of my love,
Dear mother of minstrels who kindle and move,
And hero on hero, who at honour's proud call,
For freedom their lifeblood let fall.

Wales! Wales! O but my heart is with thee!

And long as the sea your bulwark shall be,

To Cymru my heart shall be true.

O land of the mountains, the bard's paradise,
Whose precipice, valleys lone as the skies,
Green murmuring forest, far echoing flood
Fire the fancy and quicken the blood.

For tho' the fierce foeman has ravaged thy realm,
The old speech of Cymru he cannot o'erwhelm,
Our passionate poets to silence command
Or banish the harp from thy strand.