Cytgan:
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.
For the music to go with the words, Click Here
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.
Chorus:
Wales! Wales! fav'rite land of Wales!
While sea her wall, may naught befall
To mar the old language of Wales.
Old mountainous 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.
My country tho' crushed by a hostile array,
The language of Cambria lives on to this day;
The muse has eluded the traitors' foul knives,
The harp of my country survives.