Rhyfelgyrch Gwŷr Harlech

Rhyfelgyrch Gwŷr Harlech (Men of Harlech e saozneg, pe a-wechoù The March of the Men of Harlech) zo unan eus ar brudetañ kanaouennoù kembraek, hag un ton-bale hag a vez sonet gant sonerien an arme saoz. Tennañ a ra da don Seziz Gwengamp, a zo e Barzhaz Breizh, hag a zo hini Gwir Vretoned ivez.

Kastell Harlech

Kentañ ma voe embannet a voe e 1794.

Kaoz zo enni eus un darvoud e-kerzh Brezel an Div Rozenn, e-pad seziz kastell Harlech, a badas 7 vloaz, eus 1461 and 1468[1]. E-penn soudarded Harlech e oa Dafydd ap Ieuan a dalas ouzh an enebourien e-pad an hirañ seziz anavet en istor Breizh-Veur.[2].

Embannet e voe ar ganaouenn gant ar barzh Edward Jones (Bardd y Brenin) en e zastumad Musical and Poetical Relicks of the Welsh Bards, eil embannadur (1794). Brudet-bras e oa en XIXvet kantved, ha bev eo chomet he brud. Meur a zoare zo d'ar c'han, ken e kembraeg ken e saozneg, war ar memes ton.

Unan zo gant John Jones (Talhaiarn) ("Henffych well i wlad fy nghalon") hag unan arall, anavezetoc'h hiziv, gant Ceiriog ("Wele goelcerth wen yn fflamio"). Ur skrid saoznek zo gant W. H. Baker ("Men of Harlech").

Skrid ar ganaouenn gant Ceiriog

  • Wele goelcerth wen yn fflamio
  • A thafodau tân yn bloeddio
  • Ar i'r dewrion ddod i daro
  • Unwaith eto'n un.
  • Gan fanllefau tywysogion
  • Llais gelynion, trwst arfogion
  • A charlamiad y marchogion
  • Craig ar graig a gryn.
  • Arfon byth ni orfydd
  • Cenir yn dragywydd
  • Cymru fydd fel Cymru fu
  • Yn glodfawr ym mysg gwledydd.
  • Yng ngwyn oleuni'r goelcerth acw
  • Tros wefusau Cymro'n marw
  • Annibyniaeth sydd yn galw
  • Am ei dewraf ddyn.
  • Ni chaiff gelyn ladd ac ymlid
  • Harlech! Harlech! cwyd i'w herlid
  • Y mae Rhoddwr mawr ein Rhyddid
  • Yn rhoi nerth i ni.
  • Wele Gymru a'i byddinoedd
  • Yn ymdywallt o'r mynyddoedd!
  • Rhuthrant fel rhaeadrau dyfroedd
  • Llamant fel y lli!
  • Llwyddiant i'n marchogion
  • Rwystro gledd yr estron!
  • Gwybod yn ei galon gaiff
  • Fel bratha cleddyf Brython
  • Y cledd yn erbyn cledd a chwery
  • Dur yn erbyn dur a dery
  • Wele faner Gwalia'i fyny
  • Rhyddid aiff â hi!

A-wechoù e kred an dud eo honnezh eo kan broadel Kembre, e-lec'h "Hen Wlad fy Nhadau", deuet da vout Bro gozh ma zadoù e Breizh. Gwir eo ez eo ur c'han a bouez e sevenadur Kembre, ha dreist-holl abalamour ma'z eo bet kemeret da don-bale gant rejimantoù Kembre (Royal Regiment of Wales, hiriv Royal Welsh), hag ivez war-lerc'h gant rejimantoù eus Kanada hag Aostralia[3].

Doareoù saoznek


Meur a zoare saoznek zo d'ar "Men of Harlech". Sed ar re anavezetañ. Gwelout The Woad Ode ivez.

Doare John Oxenford

Verse 1

Men of Harlech, march to glory,
Victory is hov'ring o'er ye,
Bright-eyed freedom stands before ye,
Hear ye not her call?
At your sloth she seems to wonder;
Rend the sluggish bonds asunder,
Let the war-cry's deaf'ning thunder
Every foe appall.
Echoes loudly waking,
Hill and valley shaking;
'Till the sound spreads wide around,
The Saxon's courage breaking;
Your foes on every side assailing,
Forward press with heart unfailing,
'Till invaders learn with quailing,
Cambria ne'er can yield!

Verse 2

Thou, who noble Cambria wrongest,
Know that freedom's cause is strongest,
Freedom's courage lasts the longest,
Ending but with death!
Freedom countless hosts can scatter,
Freedom stoutest mail can shatter,
Freedom thickest walls can batter,
Fate is in her breath.
See, they now are flying!
Dead are heap'd with dying!
Over might hath triumph'd right,
Our land to foes denying;
Upon their soil we never sought them,
Love of conquest hither brought them,
But this lesson we have taught them,
"Cambria ne'er can yield!"

Doare "Talhaiarn"

Verse 1

Glyndŵr, see thy comet flaming,
Hear a heavenly voice declaiming,
To the world below proclaiming,
Cambria shall be free:
While thy star on high is beaming,
Soldiers from the mountains teeming,
With their spears and lances gleaming,
Come to follow thee.
Hear the trumpet sounding
While the steeds are bounding,
On the gale from hill and dale,
The war-cry is resounding:
Warriors famed in song and story,
Coming from the mountains hoary,
Rushing to the fields of glory,
Eager for the fray:
To the valley wending,
Hearths and homes defending,
With their proud and valiant prince,
From ancient kings descending;
See the mighty host advancing,
Sunbeams on their helmets dancing,
On his gallant charger prancing,
Glyndŵr leads the way.

Verse 2

Now to battle they are going,
Every heart with courage glowing,
Pride and passion overflowing
In the furious strife:
Lo! the din of war enrages,
Vengeance crowns the hate of ages,
Sternly foe with foe engages,
Feeding Death with Life:
Hear the trumpets braying,
And the horses neighing,
Hot the strife while fiery foes
Are one another slaying;
Arrows fly as swift as lightning,
Shout on shout the tumult height'ning,
Conquest's ruddy wing is bright'ning,
Helmet, sword, and shield;
With their lances flashing,
Warriors wild are crashing,
Through the tyrant's serried ranks
Whilst onward they are dashing:
Now the enemy is flying,
Trampling on the dead and dying;
Victory aloft is crying,
"Cambria wins the field!"

E-barzh ar film Zulu

Verse 1

Men of Harlech stop your dreaming
Can't you see their spear points gleaming
See their warrior pennants streaming
To this battlefield
Men of Harlech stand ye steady
It cannot be ever said ye
For the battle were not ready
Welshmen never yield
From the hills rebounding
Let these war cries sounding
Summon all at Cambria's call
The mighty force surrounding
Men of Harlech on to glory
This will ever be your story
Keep these burning words before ye
Welshmen will not yield

Doare saoznek John Guard

Verse 1

Tongues of fire on Idris flaring,
News of foemen near declaring,
To heroic deeds of daring,
Call you, Harlech men.
Groans of wounded peasants dying,
Wails of wives and children flying,
For the distant succour crying,
Call you, Harlech Men.
Shall the voice of wailing,
Now be unavailing,
You to rouse, who never yet
In battle's hour were failing?
This our answer, crowds down pouring,
Swift as winter torrents roaring.
Not in vain the voice imploring
Calls on Harlech men.

Verse 2

Loud the martial pipes are sounding,
Every manly heart is bounding,
As our trusted chief surrounding,
March we, Harlech men.
Short the sleep the foe is taking;
Ere the morrow's morn is breaking,
They shall have a rude awakening,
Roused by Harlech Men.
Mothers, cease your weeping,
Calm may be your sleeping,
You and yours in safety now,
The Harlech men are keeping.
Ere the sun is high in heaven,
They you fear, by panic riven,
Shall, like frightened sheep, be driven,
Far, by Harlech men.


  1. The Oxford Companion to British History - Oxford University Press (1997) pajenn 454; Dictionary of Ancient & Medieval Warfare by Matthew Bennett (2001)
  2. Bert S. Hall, Weapons and Warfare in Renaissance Europe, The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2001 - pajenn 212.
  3. Army Standing Orders, Ceremonial Manual, https://web.archive.org/web/20081218210648/http://www.army.gov.au/ASOD/index.htm, Chapter 27, Annex A, https://web.archive.org/web/20080725155458/http://www.army.gov.au/ASOD/documents/CEREV1/27A.pdf



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