My Home / Fy Nghartref

My home never asks where I have been, why late is my return.
My home never judges my foreign wounds upon my arrival.
My home never wonders why I have spoken ill of her.
And neither will she.

My patch sits beneath her very own sky.
My patch waits with welcoming wings.
My patch flies amongst whispers of history.
And ever will she.

My land cannot move to pastures new;
as her guests move on.
My land cannot lie to her offspring;
as her children bend her truth.
My land cannot argue her point;
as her friends desert her.
My land is my home;
and she always is.

Nid gofyn am fy nhaith i ffwrdd y byddai, na pham ‘rwy’n hwyr.
Nid barnu am straen estroniaid y byddai wrth i mi ddychwelyd.
Nid poeni y byddai paham ddaeth geiriau annheg amdani.
Ac ni fydd hi.

Eistedd y mae fy nhir o dan ei hawyr ei hun.
Aros y mae fy nhir gydag adenydd croeso.
Hedfan y mae fy nhir trwy sibrydion hanes.
Ac bydd hi am byth.

Ni all fy ngwlad symud i lefydd newydd;
fel y mae ei gwesteion.
Ni all fy ngwlad ddweud anwiredd i’w ffrindiau;
fel y mae ei chyfeillion yn plygu’r gwirionedd.
Ni all fy ngwlad ddadlau ei phwynt;
wrth i’w phlant ei gadael.
Fy nghartref ydyw fy ngwlad;
Ac bydd hi am byth.

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