The Welsh National Anthem

HEN WLAD FY NHADAU
Land of My Fathers

Melody - James James :  Welsh Lyrics - Evan James

It is believed that a weaver from Mid Glamorgan, Evan James, wrote the words one morning in January 1856 to a tune composed by his son James James.
The date of the song's adoption as the national anthem is subject to debate, but it is known that the tune was given prominence in 1874, and since that date has been considered the song which expresses Welsh nationalism. It is not meant to be sung in English, (an insult to Welshmen). The English words are provided because they have evolved, but should not be considered an exact translation of the Welsh text. A couple different versions are shown.

In the third line of the first verse, gwlad garwyr can be translated as 'lovers of the country', however gwladgarwyr means patriots, and is more usual.


Mae henwlad fy nhadauyn annwyl mi,
O land of my fathers, the land of the free,
The land of my fathers, the land of my choice,
O land of my fathers, O land of my love,
Gwlad beirdd a chantorion,enwogian o fri,
Of poets and singers, so soothing to me,
The land in which poets and minstrels rejoice;
Dear mother of minstrels who kindle and move,
Ei gwrol ryfelwyr, gwladgarwyr tra m�d,
Thy  noble defenders were gallant and brave,
The land whose stern warriors were true to the core,
And hero on hero, who at honour's proud call,
Tros ryddid gollasanteu gwaed.
For freedom their heart's life they gave.
While bleeding for freedom of yore.
For freedom their lifeblood let fall.

Cytgan
Chorus

GWLAD, GWLAD, pleidolwyf im gwlad
WALES! WALES!  home, sweet home, is Wales
Wales! Wales! fav'rite land of Wales!
Wales! Wales! O but my heart is with you!
Tra m�r yn fur,i'r bur hoff bau,
Till death be passed, my love shall last,
While sea her wall, may naught befall
And long as the sea, your bulwark shall be,
O bydded i'r heniaithbarhau.
My longing, my yearning for Wales.
To mar the old language of Wales.
To Cymru my heart shall be true.

Hen Gymru fynyddig,paradwysy bardd,
Thou haven of  bards and birthplace of song,
Old mountainous Cambria, the Eden of bards,
O land of the mountains, the bard's paradise,
Pob dyffryn, pob clogwyni'm golwg sydd hardd,
The sons of thy mountains are valiant and strong
Each hill and each valley, excite my regards;
Whose precipice, valleys lone as the skies,
Trwy deimlad gwladgarol,mor swynol yw si,
The voice of thy streamlets is soft to the ear.
To the ears of her patriots how charming still seems
Green murmuring forest, far echoing flood,
Ei nentydd afonydd imi.
Thy hills and thy valleys, how dear.
The music that flows in her streams.
Fire the fancy and quicken the blood.

Os treisiodd y gelynfy ngwlad tan ei droed,
Tho slighted and scorned by the proud and the strong,
My country tho' crushed by a hostile array,
For tho' the fierce foeman has ravaged your realm,
Mae hen iaith y Cymrymor fyw ag eriod,
The language of Cambria still charms us in song,
The language of Cambria lives out to this day;
The old speech of Cymru he cannot o'erwhelm,
Ni luddiwyd yr awen ganerchyll law brad,
The muse survives nor have envious tales,
The muse has eluded the traitors' foul knives,
Our passionate poets to silence command
Na thelyn berseiniolfy ngwlad.
Yet silenced the harps of dear Wales.
The harp of my country survives.
Or banish the harp from your strand.

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