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Wales and the French Revolution Series
(Welsh Ballads)

A little of the story of the queen of France...

by Richard Roberts

A little of the story of the queen of France; the manner in which she was slain, namely by severing her head and tying her two arms onto her back, October 17, 1793
Tune: ‘Gwêl yr Adeilad’

Location: Welsh Ballads of the French Revolution, rhif / no. 7

SCROLL DOWN FOR ENGLISH TRANSLATION


Pob un sy â theimlad ynddo,
Yn gywreindeg dowch i wrando –
Rwy’n cwyno ar ganiad;
Ni bu mewn gwlad na theyrnas
Rai milain gwaeth eu malais,
Drwy ddiras doriad.
Mae Ffrainc heb frenin ar ei mainc,
Na chwaith frenhines. (On’d tost yw’r hanes? –
Wrth goffa ar gyffes mae’n abl crugo craig!)
Nhw laddai’r ddau yn farw,
Roedd hynny’n sorw saig.
Fe ddaw rhyw ddial oddi draw –
Mae Duw yn ddiau yn hogi’i gleddau;
Nhw ddôn’ i’r ddalfa o waith eu briwiau braw;
Gwaed gwirion sydd yn gweiddi
Am eu rhoddi’n rhych y rhaw.

Y frenhines a gadd garchar
Dros flwyddyn hir a chwartar
Mewn siambar sybwyll;
Bu arni lawer eisiau
Mewn tywyllwch ar amserau,
Heb gynnau cannwyll.
Hi wnaeth, pan oedd dan gyflwr caeth,
Danfonai’i hunan at emprwr German,
Swm mawr o arian, a hyn mewn ffwdan ffraeth,
I gario ymlaen y rhyfel,
Rhag mynd mewn gafel gwaeth.
Mae Sbaen yn gryno efo’n graen,
A Holand hwytha’, ac empres Russia,
A brenin Prussia, a Lloegr (siwra’ sain),
Er lladd rhai miloedd yno –
Mae’n anhawdd rhifo rhain.

. . .

Duw a gadwo George ein brenin
A’i ddeiliaid sy’n ei ddilyn
Rhag gelyn gwaedlyd.
Mae’r gwaedgwn melltigedig,
Fuleiniaid rhy fileinig,
Am ein cael i’r gofid.
Duw Tri a safo’n hochr ni
Rhag pob bradwriaeth (ddiffawd ddiffaith,
Sy’n riwlio’n helaeth) ysywaeth heddyw sydd;
A rheini’n llwyr, pe gallen’,
A ollyngai’n gwaed ni’n lli.
Duw’n ben a’n cadwo’n si{r rhag sen.
Mae’n mawr bechodau’n eu galw yma,
I’n rhoi mewn poenau a’n cael mewn dalfa don.
Duw gadwo inni’n rhyddid,
Bob munud bawb, Amen.

TRANSLATION
Everyone who is capable of feeling,
wisely and fairly come and listen –
I make my lament in song;
there were never in country nor kingdom
cruel ones of greater wickedness,
through an infamous stroke.
France is without a king upon its throne,
nor yet a queen. (Is it not a pitiful story? –
Commemorating it in a confession is enough to afflict a rock!)
They killed both dead,
that was a sorrowful dish.
Some vengeance will come from yonder –
God is doubtlessly whetting His sword;
they will be brought to prison on account of their dreadful wounds;
innocent blood is calling out
for their being put in the shovel’s ditch.

The queen was imprisoned
for more than a long year and a quarter
in the depth of a chamber;
she suffered many needs
in darkness at times,
no candle being lit.
She did, while she was in a confined condition,
herself send to the German emperor
a great sum of money, and this with ready speed,
to continue the war,
so as to prevent a situation of greater adversity.
Spain as one shares our aspect,
and Holland also, and the Russian empress,
and the king of Prussia, and England (the most certain report),
even though many thousands have been killed there –
it is difficult to number them.

. . .

May God save George our king
and his subjects who follow him
from a bloody enemy.
The cursed bloodhounds,
excessively fierce villains,
want to bring us to grief.
May the Trinity stand on our side
against every treachery (without blessing and wicked,
which rules extensively) that exists, alas, today;
and they would, if they could, completely
let out our blood in a stream.
May God as head keep us safe from abuse.
Our great sins call them here
to put us in torment and bring us to a tight prison.
May God protect our liberties for us all
every minute, Amen.


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