Mae cyrri wedi cyrraedd.
Mae Daf y gath yn hoffi cyrri. Mae hi’n hoffi cyrri sbeislyd. Ond dyw ei stumog hi ddim yn hoffi cyrri sbeislyd o gwbl.
Dyw Jeff y gath ddim yn hoffi noson cyrri. Nid achos nad yw hi’n hoff iawn o’r bwyd. Bydd hi’n bwyta unrhyw beth. Dyw Jeff y gath ddim yn hoffi noson cyrri achos bod Daf y gath yn un da iawn am chwydu a rhechu.
Ond y tro hwn, Dewi Sant sydd wedi archebu’r cyrri. Mae e’n cael noson ramantus gyda Santes Dwynwen yn ei sied.
– Beth y’n ni’n mynd i fwyta, ‘te? meddai Daf y gath.
– Bydd rhaid i ti archebu dy gyrri dy hunan, meddai Dewi Sant, yn diflannu i mewn i’w sied.
Saesneg / English
Curry has arrived.
Dave the cat likes curry. She likes spicy curry. But her stomach doesn’t like spicy curry at all.
Jeff the cat doesn’t like curry night. It’s not because she doesn’t like the food. She will eat anything. Jeff the cat doesn’t like curry night because Dave the cat is very good at puking and farting.
But this time, it’s St David who has ordered the curries. He has organised a romantic evening with Saint Dwynwen in his shed.
– What are we going to eat, then? says Dave the cat.
– You’ll have to order your own curry, says St David, disappearing into his shed.
