Un tro, roedd Daf y gath a Franz Kafka yn chwarae gyda Draig y ci yn yr ardd. Byddai Daf yn taflu’r bêl, a Kafka’n adrodd rhywbeth diflas wrth i’r ci’w nôl hi.
Ymddangosodd Jeff y gath galico, yn gyffrous iawn.
– Daf, meddai hi, – wi ‘di sgwennu haiku.
– Ti ‘di sgwennu beth?
– Haiku. Dw i ‘di bod yn greadigol.
– O na, dim mwy o farddoniaeth. Beth yw’r pwnc?
Cododd Jeff ael.
– Mae ‘na tair llinell ynddi. Pum sillaf, saith sillaf, a phump. ‘Sdim odlau o gwbwl.
– Fel englyn ond yn wâth, felly, ochneidiodd Daf. – Amdani ‘te.
Cliriodd Jeff ei gwddf.
Haiku Jeff
gan Jeff y gath
Llwgu, dwi’n llwgu
Ble mae’r staff wedi mynd?
Bwydwch fi nawr, plis
– Hoffes i’r teitl, meddai Daf.
– Dw i’n meddwl dy fod ti wedi mynegi trallod bywyd yn dda iawn, meddai Franz Kafka.
– Diolch yn fawr, meddai Jeff, a bant â hi er mwyn chwilio am ei eilfed brecwast ar bymtheg.
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One day, Dave the cat and Frankz Kafka were playing with Dragon the dog in the garden. Dave would throw the ball, and Kafka would declaim something miserable while the dog fetched it.
Jeff the calico cat appeared, very excited.
– Dave, she said, – I’ve written a haiku.
– You’ve written what?
– Haiku. I’ve been creative.
– O no, not more poetry. What’s the subject?
Jeff raised an eyebrow.
– It’s got three lines in it. Five syllables, seven syllables, and five. There are no rhymes at all.
– So, like an englyn but worse, sighed Dave. – Go on then.
Jeff cleared her throat.
Jeff’s Haiku
by Jeff the cat
Starving, I’m starving
Where have the staff gone to now?
Feed me now, please
– I liked the title, said Dave.
– I think you have expressed the misery of life very well, said Franz Kafka.
– Thanks a lot, said Jeff, and off she went to search for her seventeenth breakfast.
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