Mae Santes Dwynwen wedi rhedeg mas o fara.
– Heb fy mara, meddai hi wrth Daf y gath, – alla i ddim gwneud brechdanau cwstard.
– Diolch byth, meddai Daf.
Mae Dewi Sant wedi rhedeg mas o fara hefyd. Fydd ddim brechdan caws iddo fe heddiw. Mae e’n cwyno wrth ysmygu ffag fel arfer.
– Wnei di fynd i’r archfarchnad, Daf? gofynna Dewi Sant wrth Daf.
– Na wnaf, meddai Daf. – Cawson ni stori am ryw siop neu’i gilydd yn ddiweddar.
Mae torth o fara hudolus yn ymddangos a hofran yn yr awyr.
– Torth yr Arglwydd dw i, meddai’r dorth yn uchel.
– Ti ddim, meddai Daf. – Ti’n dorth ddrwg iawn.
Saesneg / English
No bread
Santes Dwynwen has run out of bread.
– Without my bread, she says to Dave the cat, – I can’t make custard sandwiches.
– Thank goodness, said Dave.
Saint David has run out of bread too. There will be no cheese sandwich for him today. He is complaining while smoking a fag as usual.
– Will you go to the supermarket, Dave? Saint David asks Dave.
– I won’t, says Dave. – We had a story about some shop or other recently.
A magical loaf of bread appears and hovers in the air.
– I am the loaf of the Lord, says the bread loudly.
– You’re not, says Dave. – You are a very naughty loaf.
