Mae Bryn Terfel wedi bod yn rhedeg o gwmpas yr ardd gymaint fel bron nad yw e’n gallu anadlu. Yn sicr, dyw e ddim yn gallu canu. Ond mae’n bwysig osgoi’r Chwiliadlys Plwyf, yr Esgob, a’r rac.
Does neb yn gallu ei ddal e.
Yn sydyn, fe ddaw galwad ar ffôn symudol yr Esgob. Mae e’n troi’n welw iawn.
– Dw i ‘di câl ‘ngalw i ffwrdd, meddai, a dechrau datgymalu’r rac, sydd yn un cludadwy, diolch byth. Mae’r holl beth yn ffitio i mewn i fag bach hyfryd â blodau arno ef.
– Hei, meddai Daf y gath, – wedd hwnna’n le cymffi iawn i gael cyntun.
Ond mae’r Esgob a’r Chwiliadlys Plwyf wedi mynd yn barod. Mae Bryn Terfel yn stopio rhedeg a phasio mas.
Saesneg / English
Call
Bryn Terfel has been running around the garden so much that he almost can’t breathe. Certainly, he can’t sing. But it is important to avoid the Parish Search, the Bishop, and the rack.
No one can catch him.
Suddenly, there is a call on the Bishop’s mobile phone. He turns very pale.
– I’ve been called away, he says, and starts dismantling the rack, which is a portable one, thank goodness. The whole thing fits into a lovely little bag with flowers on it.
– Hey, says Dave the cat, – that was a very comfy place to have a snooze.
But the Bishop and the Parish Inquest have already gone. Bryn Terfel stops running and passes out.
