Plant Trawsfynedd, 1915.

Pe doech yn ôl i fro eich cydnabod,
  Chwi welech fel cynt,
Eira fel llynges dlos o wylanod
  A'r lanw y gwynt.

Gwelech lwydni y gaeaf diwenau
  Ar fynydd a rhos;
Clywech y corwynt fel storm o dduwiau
  Yng nghanol y nos.

Yma mae celloedd gwag dan y ddrycin
  Yn fud a di fri,
A'r gwynt yn chwilio pob llofft a chegin
  Amdanoch chwi.

Pell yw'r ieuenctid llawen eu dwndwr
  Fu'n cerdded y fro;
'Chydig sy'n mynd at y Bont a'r Merddwr
  Yn awr ar eu tro.

Holi amdanoch â llais clwyfedig
  Mae'r ardal i gyd;
Chwithau ymhell fel dail gwasgaredig
  Ar chwâl tros y byd.

Rhai ohonoch sy merw y brwydrau
  Yn y rhyfel draw,
A sŵn diorffwys myrdd o fagnelau
  O'ch cylch yn ddi-daw.

Eraill syn crwydro gwledydd pellennig
  Yn alltud eu hynt
Ac yn eu calon atgo Nadolig
  Yr hen ardal gynt.

Ple bynnag yr ydych, blant Trawsfynydd,
  Ar ledled y byd,
Gartre mae rhywrai ar eu haelwydydd
  Yn eich cofio i gyd.

Ni all pellterau eich gyrru yn ango,
  Blant y bryniau glân;
Calon wrth galon syn aros eto,
  Er ar wahân.

A phan ddaw gŵyl y Nadolig heibio
  I'r ddaear i gyd,
Blant Trawsfynydd, tan arfau neu beidio,
  Gwyn fo eich byd.

If you were to come back to your familiar vale,
  You would see as before,
Snow like a pretty fleet of seagulls
  On the flow of the wind.

You would see the greyness of the miserable winter
  On the mountain and moor;
You would hear the hurricane like a storm of gods
  In the middle of the night.

Here are empty cells under the bad weather
  Mute and unesteemed,
And the wind searching every upper room and kitchen
  For you.

Distant are the young of joyful din,
  Who walked the vale;
Few are they who go to the Bridge and the Creek
  Now on their jaunt.

Asking about you with a wounded voice
  Is all the district
You distant like scattered leaves
  Dispersed across the world.

Some of you are contending the battles
  In yonder war
With the sound of a myriad of cannons
  Clamouring around you.

Others are wandering distant lands
  As an exile of their course
And in their heart the memory of the Christmas
  Of the old former district.

Wherever you are, children of Trawsfynydd,
  Abroad across the world,
At home are some in their homesteads
  Remembering you all.

Distances cannot drive you to forget,
  Children of the clean hills,
Heart to heart which remain yet,
  Despite being separated.

And when the festival of Christmas comes by
  To all the earth,
Children of Trawsfynydd, under arms or not,
  Blessed be you.