“Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau” is the unofficial national anthem of Wales.
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The title, taken from the first words of the song, means “Old Land of My Fathers” in Welsh, is usually rendered in English as simply “Land of My Fathers”.
The earliest written copy survives and is part of the collections of the National Library of Wales.
Wales National Anthem Lyrics Original
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 môr 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 fi.
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.
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Wales National Anthem Lyrics English
Verse translation by A.P. Graves:
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.
Country! Country! O but my heart is with you!
As 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 are fair to my eyes,
Green murmuring forest, far echoing flood
Fire the fancy and quicken the blood
For tho’ the fierce foeman has ravaged your realm,
The old speech of Wales he cannot o’erwhelm,
Our passionate poets to silence command,
Or banish the harp from your strand.
A more literal translation:
The old land of my fathers is dear to me,
Land of bards and singers, famous men of renown;
Her brave warriors, very splendid patriots,
For freedom shed their blood.
Country, Country, I am faithful to my Country.
While the sea [is] a wall to the pure, most loved land,
O may the old language [sc. Welsh] endure.
Old mountainous Wales, paradise of the bard,
Every valley, every cliff, to my look is beautiful.
Through patriotic feeling, so charming is the murmur
Of her brooks, rivers, to me.
If the enemy oppresses my land under his foot,
The old language of the Welsh is as alive as ever.
The muse is not hindered by the hideous hand of treason,
Nor [is] the melodious harp of my country.
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