Ben bore, cyn codiad yr haul, mae Jeff y gath yn dod â gwyfyn anferth i’r ardd wedi noson lwyddiannus o hela. Dwywaith ei maint yw e.
Dyw’r gwyfyn ddim yn hapus o gwbl.
– Ble gest ti hwnna? gofyn Daf y gath i’w chwaer.
– Pam? meddai Jeff a’i cheg yn llawn o lwch gwyfyn.
– Dwi am gael un o rheina. Allen ni ffurfio clwb. Clwb Perchnogion Gwyfynod Cawraidd. Dyna syniad da am fenter newydd. Allen ni ennill tamaid bach o arian.
Ond mae’n rhy hwyr i ystyried pethau felly. Mae cannoedd o wyfynod anferth yn hofran yn fygythiol yn yr awyr uwchben yr ardd.
Saesneg / English
The time of the giant moths
Early in the morning, before sunrise, Jeff the cat brings a huge moth into the garden after a successful night of hunting. It is twice her size.
The moth is not happy at all.
– Where did you get that? Dave the cat asks her sister.
– Why? says Jeff with her mouth full of moth dust.
– I want to get one of those. We could form a club. A Giant Moth Owners’ Club. That’s a good idea for a new venture. We could earn a little bit of money.
But it is too late to consider things like that. Hundreds of enormous moths hover menacingly in the sky above the garden.
