Mae Daf y gath yn yr ardd, yn llyfu ei thraed.
Dw i’n hoffi’r ardd ‘ma, meddylia Daf.
– Dw i’n hoffi’r ardd hon hefyd, meddai Jeff ei chwaer, wedi darllen meddyliau Daf.
– Wyt ti’n hoffi’r sied ‘na? gofynna Daf.
– Nadw, dw i’n casáu’r sied honna.
– Beth am y powlenni o gwstard ‘na?
– Nadw, dw i’n casáu’r rheiny hefyd. Ond dw i’n hoffi’r rhain, meddai Jeff, yn pwyntio at selsig Franz Kafka.
– Beth am yr ymarfer hwn?
– Yr ymarfer ‘ma? Mae’n ddiflas. Stopia, neno Tad.
Saesneg / English
This
Dave the cat is in the garden, licking her feet.
I like this garden, Dave thinks.
– I like this garden too, says Jeff her sister, having read Daf’s thoughts.
– Do you like that shed? Dave asks.
– No, I hate that shed.
– What about those bowls of custard?
– No, I hate those too. But I like these, said Jeff, pointing at Franz Kafka’s sausages.
– What about this exercise?
– This exercise? It’s boring. Stop, for God’s sake.
