Mae’r tiwtoriaid Cymraeg sy’n aros yng ngwesty Dewi Sant wedi bod yn dadbacio penglogau ceffylau.
Mae darnau o geffylau wedi marw dros y lle i gyd.
Ac nawr, maen nhw wedi dechrau paentio’r penglogau mewn lliwiau amrywiol. Pam maen nhw’n gwneud yr hyn maen nhw’n wneud?
O diar.
Maen nhw’n gorfodi Daf y gath i ymarfer ei threigladau hi.
– Beth yw hwn? gofyn arweinydd y tiwtoriaid iddi, yn cyfeirio at benglog llwyd.
– Sai’mod. Sdim ots. Ma’r blydi peth ‘di marw.
Mae’r tiwtor yn rholio ei llygaid hi.
– Dw. I. Ddim. Yn. Gwybod. Does. Dim. Ots. Gyda. Fi. Penglog y Fari Lwyd yw hwn.
– O reit, OK, meddai Daf, heb ddiddordeb.
– Beth yw hwn? gofyn y tiwtor eto, yn cyfeirio at benglog glas.
– Shwd ydw i fod i wbod? Penglog Barri Glas ife?
– Penglog. Y. Fari. Las. Yw. E.
– Blydi hel, meddai Daf y gath; nid yw dull y tiwtor yn creu llawer o argraff arni hi. – T’mo beth? Fi’n mynd i dy adel di a dy blydi treiglade, cymryd llond llaw o catnip, a mynd i’r Crymych Arall y tu hwnt i’r gorwel am sbel. Wfft i chi gyd.
Saesneg / English
Skulls
The Welsh tutors staying at Saint David’s hotel have been unpacking horse skulls.
There are pieces of dead horses all over the place.
And now, they have started painting the skulls in various colours. Why are they doing this?
Oh dear.
They are forcing Dave the cat to practise her mutations.
– What is this? the leader of the tutors asks her, pointing to a grey skull.
– Dunno. Don’t care. The bloody thing’s dead.
The tutor rolls her eyes.
– I. Do. Not. Know. It. Does. Not. Matter. To. Me. This is the skull of the Mari Lwyd. (Grey Mary).
– Oh right, OK, says Dave, without interest.
– What is this? asks the tutor again, pointing to a blue skull.
– How’m I supposed to know? The skull of Blue Barry is it?
– It. Is. The. Skull. Of. Blue. Mary.
– Bloody hell, says Dave the cat; she is not very impressed with the tutor’s approach. – Y’know what? I’m going to leave you and your bloody mutations, take a handful of catnip, and go to the Other Crymych beyond the horizon for a while. To hell with you all.
