Pa bryd y cediw'r bobol?

Pa bryd y cedwi'r bobol,
  Drugarog Dduw, pa bryd?
Nid mawrion, heb y miloedd,
  Nid beilchion, ond y byd:
Blodau dy galon yw'r rhai hyn;
Gânt hwy ddiflannu megis chwyn
Heb weled gwawr o obaith gwyn?
  Duw gadwo'r bobol!

Gaiff trosedd fagu troedd
  A'r cryf gryfhau o hyd?
A fynni di i lafur
  Fyth gynnal
      gormes byd?
Na, medd dy fryniau, na, dy nef;
Fe gwyd yr haul, a chydag ef
Dynoliaeth gwyd â llawen lef:
  Duw gadwo'r bobol!

Pa bryd y cedwi'r bobol,
  Drugarog Dduw, pa bryd?
Y bobol, Dad, y bobol,
  Nid beilchio, ond y byd:
Duw gadwo'r bobol, plant i ti
Ŷnt hwy, fel dy angylaidd lu;
Rhag llygredd, trais, anobaith du,
  Duw gadwo'r bobol!

When wilt thou save the people,
  Merciful God, when?
Not great ones, without the thousands,
  Not proud ones, but the world:
The flowers of thy heart are these;
Shall they get to disappear like weeds
Without seeing the dawn of bright hope?
  God save the people!

Shall trespass get to breed trespass
  And the strong still get stronger?
And dost thou insist that labour
  Shall forever support
      oppression of a world?
No, say thy hill, no, thy heaven;
The sun shall rise, and with it
Humanity shall rise with a joyful cry:
  God save the people!

When wilt thou save the people,
  Merciful God, when?
The people, Father, the people,
  Not proud ones, but the world:
God save the people, children to thee
The are, like thy angelic host;
From degrdation, violence, black despair,
  God save the people!

When wilt Thou save the people?
  O God of mercy, when?
Not kings and lords, but nations,
  Not thrones and crowns, but men!
Flowers of Thy heart, O God, are they;
Let them not pass, like weeds, away;
Their heritage a sunless day:
  O God, save the people!

Shall crime bring crime forever,
  Strength aiding still the strong?
Is it Thy will, O Father,
  That man shall toil
      for wrong?
"No," say Thy mountains; "No," Thy skies;
Man's clouded sun shall brightly rise,
And songs ascend, instead of sighs:
  O God, save the people!

When wilt Thou save the people?
  O God of mercy, when?
The people, Lord, the people,
  Not thrones and crowns, but men!
God save the people; Thine they are,
Thy children, as Thine angels fair:
From vice, oppression, and despair,
  O God, save the people!