Land of my Fathers
The old land of my fathers is dear to me,
Land of poets and singers, famous men of renown
Its brave warriors, great patriots,
For freedom they lost their blood
Country, country, I'm partial to my country,
While the sea is a wall for the pure, dear country,
O may the "old language" continue.
Old mountainous Wales, paradise of the poet,
Every valley, every cliff is beautiful in my sight;
Through patriotic feeling, more enchanting is the murmur
Of her streams and rivers to me.
If the enemy violated my country underfoot,
The "old language" of the Welsh is alive as ever,
The spirit wasn't hindered by the awful, treacherous hand
Nor the sweet harp of my country.