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Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau	The Land Of My Fathers
Mae hen wlad fy nhadau yn annwyl i mi,	The land of my fathers, the land of my choice,
Gwlad beirdd a chantorion, enwogion o fri;	The land in which poets and minstrels rejoice;
Ei gwrol ryfelwyr, gwladgarwyr tra mâd,	The land whose stern warriors were true to the core,
Tros ryddid gollasant eu gwaed.	While bleeding for freedom of yore.

Cytgan	Chorus
Gwlad, Gwlad, pleidiol wyf i'm gwlad.	Wales! Wales! fav'rite land of Wales!
Tra môr yn fur i'r bur hoff bau,	While sea her wall, may naught befall
O bydded i'r hen iaith barhau.	To mar the old language of Wales.

Hen Gymru fynyddig, paradwys y bardd,	Old mountainous Cambria, the Eden of bards,
Pob dyffryn, pob clogwyn i'm golwg sydd hardd;	Each hill and each valley, excite my regards;
Trwy deimlad gwladgarol, mor swynol yw si	To the ears of her patriots how charming still seems
Ei nentydd, afonydd i mi.	The music that flows in her streams.


Os treisiodd y gelyn fy ngwald tan ei droed,	My country tho' crushed by a hostile array,
Mae hen iaith y Cymry mor fyw ac erioed,	The language of Cambria lives out to this day;
Ni luddiwyd yr awen gan erchyll law brad,	The muse has eluded the traitors' foul knives,
Na thelyn berseiniol fy ngwlad.	The harp of my country survives.