Un tro, deuai llawer o guro o gornel yr ardd. Roedd Daf y gath yn eistedd ar y ddaear gyda morthwyl yn ei phawen, a llanast o bren o’i chwmpas.
– Be ti neud fan hyn, Daf? meddai Jeff y gath, yn amheus o’i chwaer fel arfer.
– Dwi’n adeiladu roced, atebodd Daf.
– Pam?
– Ymm, mae rhaid i ni fynd i’r gofod.
– Pam? Sai isie mynd i’r gofod. Mae’r bwyd yn ofnadwy lan fan ‘na.
– Sai’mod. Nid ‘n syniad i wedd e.
Craffodd Jeff ar lanast Daf.
– Wel, so’r llanast o bren yma’n mynd i fynd i’r gofod, y dwpsen. Rhaid adeiladu rocedi o flychau cardbord. Maen nhw’n ysgafnach.
Ac off â hi i hela llygod.
Aeth Daf i weld Dewi Sant yn ei sied er mwyn cael barn rhywun arall, ond oedd e’n brysur gyda Santes Dwynwen a photel o wisgi ar yr adeg honno.
Tybed os oes blwch cardbord yn rhywle, meddyliodd Daf.
Saesneg / English
Dave and Jeff in space, part 1
Once upon a time, there was a lot of banging coming from a corner of the garden. Dave the cat was sitting on the ground with a hammer in her paw, surrounded by a mess of wood
– What are you doing here, Dave? said Jeff the cat, suspicious of her sister as usual.
– I’m building a rocket, replied Dave.
– Why?
– Erm, we have to go into space.
– Why? I don’t wanna go into space. The food is terrible up there.
– Dunno. It wasn’t my idea.
Jeff scrutinized Dave’s mess.
– Well, this mess of wood isn’t going to go into space, you idiot. Rockets must be built from cardboard boxes. They are lighter.
And off she went to hunt mice.
Dave went to see St David in his shed for someone else’s opinion, but he was busy with St Dwynwen and a bottle of whiskey at that time. I wonder if there’s a cardboard box somewhere, Daf thought.
