Y Gadlys / Y March â'r Gwddw Brith

Caradog eilw'i ddeiliaid,
  Ag utgorn ar ei fant;
Fe ruthrodd y Siluriaid,
  Cwympasant yn y pant.
Enciliodd arwyr enwog:
  Ond ar y march â'r gwddw brith,
  Fe ddaw'r frenhines deg i'w plith,
I edrych am Garadog.

Mae cynnwrf yn y ceunant,
  Ar derfyn dydd y gad;
A dynion dewr orweddant
  I farw tros eu gwlad.
Yr afon foddodd fyddin
  Ond ar y march â'r gwddw brith
  Fe ddaw'r frenhines deg i'w plith,
I edrych am y brenin.

Fe welodd y Rhufeiniaid,
  Y march â'r gwddw brith:
Ond gwelodd y Brythoniaid,
  Frenhines yn eu plith.
Mae'r corn yn ail-utganu,
  Brythoniaid yn eu holau drônt,
  Rhufeiniaid yn eu holau ffônt
O flaen cleddyfau Cymru.

Caradog calls his vassals,
  With a trumpet at his mouth;
The Silurians rushed,
  They fell in the hollow.
The famous heroes retreated:
  But on the stallion with the speckled throat,
  Comes the fair queen into their midst,
To look for Caradog.

There is a commotion in the gorge,
  At the end of the day of battle;
And brave men are lying
  To die for their country.
The river drowned an army
  But on the stallion with the speckled throat,
  Comes the fair queen into their midst,
To look for the king.

The Romans saw,
 The stallion with the speckled throat:
But the Britons saw,
  A queen in their midst.
The horn is sounding again,
  Britons backwards turn,
  Romans backwards flee
Before the swords of Wales.