Mae Jeff y gath yn rhy boeth.
Fel arfer, mae hi’n enjoio torheulo. Ond dim heddiw. Mae hi’n teimlo fel bod rhywun wedi ei rhoi hi yn y ffwrn am hanner awr.
— Jeff, Jeff, mae syniad ‘da fi! medd Daf y gath.
— Rhy boeth, ymetyb Jeff. — Cer i grafu.
— Beth am i ni fynd i’r isfyd? pery Daf. — Mae’n sicr o fod yn llai poeth lawr fan ‘na.
— Ti ariôd ‘di darllen y Beibil, wt ti?
— Na, ti ‘di camddeall. Dim uffern ‘i hunan wen i’n meddwl. Yr isfyd. O le dâth Cthŵlhŵ.
Ond mae Jeff y gath yn cysgu eto, yn anghyfforddus o boeth.
Saesneg / English
Heat wave
Jeff the cat is too hot.
Usually, she enjoys sunbathing. But not today. She feels like someone has put her in the oven for half an hour.
— Jeff, Jeff, I have a good idea! says Dave the cat.
— Too hot, replies Jeff. — Sod off.
— How about we go to the underworld? continues Dave. — It’s sure to be less hot down there.
— You’ve never read the Bible, have you?
— No, you’ve misunderstood. I didn’t mean hell. The underworld. Where Cthulhu came from.
But Jeff the cat is sleeping again, uncomfortably hot.