Music traditional, words by Llew Tegid, arrangement by J. Lloyd Williams.
According to Welsh Folk Songs Part III, this Anglesey tune “Mae ‘nghalon i mor drymed” was given to J. Lloyd Williams by Mr W. H. Williams of Llanrwst.
This is a song set in war time in which a soldier sends a message home to his family via a starling, that his brother has sadly fallen in battle. Not to be confused with the song also called Hiraeth starting “Dwedwch Fawrion o Wybodaeth”, in which the singer reflects on the hole in his or her heart left by having had to leave Wales for good.
See here for background on the meaning of the word hiraeth (often translated as “longing”).
Words
Y Drudwen chwim a siriol,
‘Nawr cwyd ar aden lân,
A bydd yn gennad hiraeth
I fwth yng Ngwlad y Gân;
Fel buost gynt i Branwen,
Pan oedd mewn cyni caeth,
O’r Werddon i Harlech
Ehedaist fel y saeth
Ehed i Gymru dawel,
O ganol mwg a thân,
A dos yn gennad hiraeth,
Sy’n llethu ‘mron yn lân:
Mae wylo ar yr aelwyd,
Mi wn amdanaf fi,
A dos â deigryn hefyd,
Oddi yma gyda thi.
Nid meddwl am y gelyn
Sy’n gwneud fy mron yn brudd;
Ond tôn o hiraeth creulon
Yn rhwygo, rhwygo ‘nghalon sydd:
O’r Drudwen dos â’m neges
I Gymru, dros y dôn;
Er trymed yw y newydd,
Fe ysgafnha fy mron.
Yn ddeufrawd glwadgar nwyfus,
Y cefnem ar ein gwlad:
I herio gelyn rhyddid
Gadawem dŷ ein tad;
Pan fyddi’n torri’r newydd,
Rho ddeigryn yn dy gainc;
Mae’r brawd ieuengaf heddyw,
Yn huno, huno,
Yn huno’n naear Ffrainc.
Translation
Starling, fast and cheerful
Now rise on fair wing
And be a messenger of longing,
To a cottage in the Land of Song
As you were first to Branwen
When she was in the poverty of servitude
From Ireland to Harlech
You flew like an arrow.
Fly to quiet Wales,
From the midst of smoke and fire,
And become a messenger of the longing,
Which overwhelms my heart completely:
There is weeping at the hearth,
I know (there is) for me
And bring a tear as well,
From here with you.
It is not thinking about the enemy
Which makes my heart sad;
But a wave of cruel longing
Breaking, breaking my heart it is:
From the Starling take my message
To Wales, over the wave;
Although heavy is the news,
It will lighten my breast.
As two glorious, noble brothers
We stood up for our country:
To challenge the enemy freely
We left our father’s house;
When I break the news,
Put a tear on your lap;
The youngest brother today,
Is sleeping, sleeping,
Sleeping in the ground of France.