Cyfarchion cynhesaf, gyd-deithwyr ar y ffordd i le nad adwaenom eto! Ffredric Phantastig yw f’enw i. Wel, nid f’enw go iawn, wrth reswm, yw hwn, ond yn hytrach fy nglasenw hudol. Mae’n dangos mai un sy’n selog sugno pob diferyn o fêr o esgyrn bywyd ydwyf fi (rwy wedi gweld y ffilm o’r enw ‘Cymdeithas y Beirdd Marw’ sawl gwaith ch’wel? — “ffan o dastio” — chi’n deall?). Myfi yw Feistr Llawn yn Urdd Cyfrinachau, gwas teyrngar i’r gwir Ddewin, y Doethur o Gymro o’r enw Siôn Du, Ceidwadwr Hen Ddirgelion y Dauwynebog a ŵyr popeth sy’n digwydd ar wyneb y blaned hon, a phopeth a ddigwydd at hynny. Atgyweiriwr breuddwydion mwrdredig, a chofiadwr bywydau wedi’u colli dan ddwylo’r Saith Swynwr Seraffaidd ydwyf fi. Rwy wedi bod yn llafurio i ddyfeisio moddion i roi i’r Ddaear chwerw hon flas o’i ffisig ei hun; ac ymhellach rwy wedi bod yn ymlafnio i ddysgu cyfiawnder i’r rhai cyndyn, er mai dim ond ychydig sy’n gwrando.

Warmest greetings, fellow-travellers on the way to a place we know not yet! Frederick Fantastic is my name. Well, this is not my real name, of course, but rather my magical by-name. It shows that I am one who zealously sucks every drop of marrow from the bones of life (I’ve seen the film ‘Dead Poets Society’ several times, you see? — “fan of tasting” — get it?). I am Full Master in the Guild of Secrets, faithful servant to the true Magus, the Welsh Doctor named John Dee, Keeper of the Old Mysteries of Bifrons who knows everything that happens on the face of this planet, and everything that will happen to boot. I am the mender of murdered dreams, and the remembrancer of lives lost at the hands of the Seven Seraphic Sorcerers. I have been labouring to devise potions to give this embittered Earth a taste of its own medicine; and further, I have been slaving to teach righteousness to the wayward, although there are only a few who listen.

Cymaint rwy wedi’i weld, a’i glywed, a’i ddeall, trwy roi sylw i’r lleisiau sy’n fy nghwmpasu, y sibrwd o’r cysgodion, a chyfieithu’r geiriau estron sy’n dod ataf fi o’r tu hwnt, y mae arnaf fi angen eu rhannu â chi. Bellach, yng Nghlinig Y Pinwydd, rwy wedi dod o hyd i ddogfennau sy’n cynnwys neges bwysig iawn. A dyma ffrwyth f’archwilio ar ffurf nodiadau ffurfiol, a recordiadau, a sgriblan athroniaethol, a darnau creadigol yn ôl pob sôn. O, myn fy ffydd, maent yn ceisio f’atal i, asiantau’r drefn arallfydol, mynachod y frawdoliaeth gycyllog dan awdurdod y pregethwr anfad, y Peintiwr Coch. Mae’r cythreuliaid wedi drysu’r llawysgrifau i gyd, ond fe ddaliaf ati er eu gwaethaf nhw. Ac yn enw Delw-addolwyr Dioglyd y Nw Yrth, fe fyddaf yn bwrw fy llid ar y rhai sydd yn dymuno rhwystro ein hachos ni’r ymladdwyr dros ryddid, naill ai yn y byd hwn neu ynteu yn y byd a ddaw! Yn gyntaf, fodd bynnag, rhaid i fi esbonio tipyn bach amdanaf fi fy hunan. Darllenwch, felly, ac wylo, o ddarganfod y gwirionedd llawen am ein lle yn y fuchedd hon.

How much I have seen, and heard, and understood, by giving heed to the voices that surround me, the whispering from the shadows, and translating the foreign words that come to me from beyond, and which I need to share with you. Now, in The Pines Clinic, I have found documents which contain a very important message. And here is the fruit of my research in the form of formal notes, and recordings, and philosophical scribblings, and what appear to be creative pieces. Oh, upon my faith, they are attempting to prevent me, the agents of the otherworldly order, the monks of the cowled brotherhood under the command of the unholy preacher, the Red Painter. The devils have mixed up all the manuscripts, but I shall stick with it despite them. And in the name of the Indolent Idolaters of the Nw Yrth, I shall have vengeance on those who wish to thwart our cause, we the freedom-fighters, either in this world, or the next! Read on, therefore, and weep, discovering the happy truth about our place in this existence.

Ond onid felly y penderfynwch, fe fyddwn i’n awgrymu gorwedd i lawr mewn ‘stafell dywyll, a chael dysgled hyfryd o de mate claear. O’m rhan i, rwy’n hoff iawn o ddarllen (ac ysgrifennu) nofelau gothig yn f’amser sbâr i ymlacio. Wedi’r cwbl, mae rhaid i hyd yn oed Buffy, Leiddiad Fampiriaid (f’arwres!), fynd ar wyliau unwaith yn y pedwar amser. A phan eilw’r awen pwy eill ei gwrthod? Gyda llaw, rwy wastad o ddifri calon, fel y gwelwch chi, ac rwy’n hoffi gwledda ar ffilmiau cyffrous megis ‘Gladiator’, ond, peidiwch â phoeni, rwy’n sylweddoli hefyd mai hiwmor diatal sydd yn iro olwynion y byd, fel y meddant hwy (wel, y rhai nad ydynt â’r sgiliau cyfathrebu sy’n perthyn i sach wlyb o ffuredau marw!). Felly nid tranc a thristwch fydd popeth! Fe fyddaf yn eich gadael gyda phob dymuniad da, a phob bendith am ddyfodol llawn o ddifyrrwch a thrawsffurfiad. A chofiwch chi wrth ichi dyfu a datblygu: enfawr dych chi, cynhwyswch laweroedd: gadewch nawr iddyn nhw fyw!

But if it is not thus that you decide, I would suggest reclining in a dark room, and having a lovely cup of luke-warm matte tea. For my part, I am very fond of reading (and writing) gothic novels in my spare time in order to relax. After all, even Buffy the Vampire Slayer (my heroine!) has to go on holiday once in a blue moon. And, when the Muse calls, who can resist Her? By the way, I am always deadly serious, as you can see, and I like feasting on exciting films like ‘Gladiator’, but, don’t worry, I appreciate too that it’s unrestrained humour that greases the world’s wheels, as they say (well the ones who don’t have the communication skills belonging to a wet sack of dead ferrets!). So it shall not all be doom and gloom! I’ll leave you with every good wish, and every blessing, for a future full of diversion and transformation. And remember whilst you grow and develop: you are enormous, you contain multitudes; now then allow them to grow!

“’Vrith’f u hwahlé ína. Fli-salmé lif hýl fli-afoth-ri fy m’athoo nayn hýl hlispi fliri’f fl’azis hýl” – U ‘Vrithhain .

“Ia Firithe iusonu ina. A sana, ā fathe inā thu a lisipāzisas sanas ī the” – I Hain u Firithe.

“Yr oedd, yn y dechreuad, yr Haul. Ac ar ei ben ei hunan ydoedd, wedi lapio amdano â myfyrdod, heb adnabod neb ond Efe’i hun” – Cân yr Haul.

“There was, in the beginning, the Sun. And He was alone, and wrapped in thought, and knowing only Himself” – The Sunsong.

Mynegai Pennod / Chapter Index

Pennod Un: Mae Ffred yn Sgriblan / Ffred’s Scribbling

Wel, helo bawb! Ffred sy ma. Wi di bod yn brysur iawn yn ddiweddar. Rhaid i fi neud hyn gan fod pethau’n newid mor gyflym yn ein byd trist a phoenus ni ar hyn o bryd, a wi’n ofni bydda i’n cael ‘ngadael ar ôl fel arall. Newydd gwpla cwrs bendigedig ar-lein gyda grŵp o’r enw “Plant y Wawr Ddu” dw i, gan ddysgu am “Arddeisyf Etheraidd Ymarferol.” Neno’r Saith Anhraethadwy, roedd yn anodd i ddyn fel fi sy’n fwy cyfarwydd â phethau syml fel meithrin y ffwng gorau a pharatoi dognau. A bod yn onest, sa i’n nabod be wi di gonsurio nac a fydda i’n gallu cael gwared arno fe. Mae un peth yn siŵr fe fydd arna i angen ymarfer y swynion bwrw allan fel y cythraul o hyn ‘mlaen! Ond eto i gyd, dros Dymor Edifeirwch Hir wi di bod ati yn nwnsiwn Coleg yr Angylesau Syrthiedig, y tro hwn yn neud cwrs i ddysgu sut i reoli elfennau natur. O, nefi bliw, mae wedi bod yn wych! Licwn i hala “diolch” enfawr i’n tiwtor ni, Arianithi Sesiha, oedd yn seraffaidd, ond eitha sarffaidd ‘fyd. Wel, does fawr o ryfeddod ‘na, achos bod pawb yn mynd yn fwyfwy bwystfilaidd y dyddiau ‘ma. Sa i di cael cymaint o hwyl ers achau, a dyna rywbeth i’w ddathlu yn yr amseroedd tywyll a barbaraidd ‘ma sydd ohoni. Heb raid dweud, fe ddysgon ni i gyd lawer o bethau ‘fyd, ac mae’r technegau’n ddefnyddiol iawn i gadw’r gelod bychain peiriannol draw! Yn anffodus, sa i’n gallu rhannu cyfrinachau’r hud gyda chi, er eich lles eich hunain, ac am mod i di addo. Fodd bynnag, wi di bod yn sgrifennu llawer o lythyrau, a phethau i’n papur bro lleol ni, y Malwr-Awyr, dros y blynyddoedd, yn cynnwys adroddiadau ar ddramâu. Felly dyma dipyn bach o’n sgriblan i roi blas i chi ar sut mae pethau wedi bod yn datblygu rown’ fan ‘yn.

Well, hello everyone! Ffred here. I’ve been very busy recently. I’ve got to be, as things’re changing so quickly in our sad and painful world at the moment, and I’m fearful I’ll be left behind otherwise. I’ve just finished a superb online course with a group called “Children of the Black Dawn,” learning about “Practical Ethereal Invocation.” By the Seven Unspeakable Ones, it was hard for a man like me who’s more familiar with simple things like cultivating the best fungus and preparing potions. To be honest, I don’t know what I’ve conjured, nor whether I’ll be able to get rid of it. One thing’s certain, I’ll have to practise the banishing spells like crazy from now on! But then again, over the Season of Long Repentance, I’ve been hard at it in the dungeon of the College of the Fallen She-Angels, this time doing a course to learn how to control the natural elements. O, dear heavens, it was great! I’d like to send a huge “thanks” to our tutor, Arianithi Sesilithi, who was seraphic, but quite serpentine too. Well, no surprise there, as everyone’s getting more and more bestial these days. I haven’t had so much fun for ages, and that’s something to celebrate in today’s dismal and barbaric times. Needless to say, we all learned a lot of stuff too, and the techniques are very useful for keeping the miniature mechanical leeches away! Unfortunately, I can’t share the magical secrets with you, for your own good, and ‘cos I’ve promised. However, I’ve been writing lots of letters, and things for our local Welsh-language paper the Air-Masher, over the years, including reports on plays. So, here’s a bit of my scribbling to give you a taste of how things have been progressing round here.

HUD THEATRIG: Helo Bawb! Ffred sy ‘ma, yn gofyn ‘Ai hon yw dagr a welaf o’m blaen i?’ Y mis ‘ma licwn i gyflwyno i chi adolygiad o ddrama yr es i i’w gwylio ddoe yn Neuadd Dref Aber-cennin. A bod yn onest, y gwir reswm y mynychais i’r digwyddiad oedd achos bod Ethelwen, nith fach fy lojer (sy’n un ar bymtheg oed) yn chwarae rhan bwysig, ond rhaid i fi ddweud, er gwaethaf hynny, y mwynheais i fy hunan yn fawr iawn. Cafodd y ddrama o’r enw ‘Em ac Ec Beth?’ ei hysgrifennu gan y dramodydd o Almaenwr Wilhelm Cynhyrfwr-waywffon, rwy’n credu (maen nhw’n lico gwneud cyfansoddeiriau yn yr Almaeneg). THEATRICAL MAGIC: Hiya All! Ffred here, asking ‘Is this a dagger I see before me?’ This month I’d like to present you with a review of a play I went to see Aber-cennin Town Hall. To be honest, the real reason I attended the event was because Ethelwen, my lodger’s little niece (who’s 16 years old) was playing an important part, but I have to say, despite that, I enjoyed myself very much. The play, called ‘M and C What?’ was written by the German playwright Wilhelm Cynhyrfwr-waywffon, I believe (they do like to make compound words in German). Mae wedi'i lleoli yn y Parth Glas yn yr hen ddyddiau, ac yn cynnwys llawer o wleidyddiaeth hanesyddol a phethau gwael fel arglwyddi sy'n cysgu drwy’r amser ym Mhalas yr Henuriaid Dyrchafedig pan nad ydyn nhw'n dweud celwyddau noeth, caethiwo ac ecsbloetio'r werin bobl, a llofriddio'i gilydd. Cyffrous iawn ydy’n wir, ond pam y sgrifennai dramodydd o Almaenwr am bethau a ddigwyddodd yn y Parth Glas ganrifoedd yn ôl sy’n achosi penbleth i fi. Rwy’n dwlu ar yr hanes arswyd am ysbrydion sy'n gweini ar feddyliau meidrolion, tra'u llanwant o’r corun i’r sawdl â chreulondeb enbytaf, gan dewychu’u gwaed! Rhyfedd o berthnasol i’r sefyllfa yn y wlad hon Bretany heddiw ydy, heb os, hefyd! Creda i fod Pobl y Parth Glas eisiau cipio grym yn Ynys y Teyrnasau Anghytûn, gyda help yr Undeb Masnachol Milwrol Byd-Eang, gan ddefnyddio technoleg fel peiriannau mwg a drychau hudol. Naeth y nith berfformio’n eithriadol o dda, gan sgrechian a llefain a rhuthro lan a lawr, wedi’i gwisgo mewn rhyw fath o len, ychydig yn debyg i ysbryd neu i wrach. ‘Y Frenhines Teras Mai’ oedd enw ei chymeriad (yr ‘Em’ yn y teitl), ac ‘Y Tywysog Bors ap Siôn’ oedd ei chariad, a cheisiai fe ei lladd hithau yn y pendraw. Ac ro’n nhw ill dau eisiau lladd eu gelyn gwaetha, ‘Yr Arglwydd Ieramheel Corbin’ (yr ‘Ec’ yw hon). Ond drwy'r amser, yn y cefndir, y tu hwnt i'r llenni, ar wahân i'r Dewiniaid a'r Pendefigion, dyna'r Anrhydeddus Arglwyddes Macbeth, Boneddiges y Siambr Wely i’r Frenhines Waedlyd, yn dyfeisio cynllwynion, a rhaffu celwyddau, a thynnu llinynnau er mwyn cyflawni'i dibenion ysgeler ei hun. Ac eto i gyd, mae'n digwydd taw hithau sy'n gweini ar y Grymoedd Rhyfedd 'na o'r enw y Delkvovim sydd eisiau gorfodi'u hewyllys ar yr holl Delkurí sy'n byw yn ein Byd ni, a'u newid am bythm greda i (Mae'n flin 'da fi, ond dw i'm yn siŵr am y geiriau estron yma.) It’s set in the Blue Zone in the old days, and contains lots of historical politics and awful things like lords who are asleep all the time in the Palace of the Exalted Elders, when they're not lying compulsively, enslaving and exploiting the proles, and slaughtering each other. It’s definitely very exciting, but why a German dramatist would write about things that happened in the Blue Zone centuries ago is causing me a headache. I love the horrible story about spirits that tend on mortals’ thoughts, filling them from the crown to the toe top-full of direst cruelty, whilst thickening the blood. It’s also strangely relevant to the situation in this land of Pretany today, without a doubt! I believe that the People of the Blue Zone want to seize power in the Island of the Disunited Kingdoms, with the help of the World-Wide Military Mercantile Union, using technology like smoke machines and magic mirrors. The niece performed exceptionally well, shouting and weeping and rushing up and down, wearing some kind of sheet, a bit like a ghost or a witch. ‘Queen May’ was the name of her character (the ‘M’ in the title), and ‘Boris John’s-son’ was her lover, and he tried to kill her in the end. And the two of them wanted to kill their worst enemy, ‘Lord Jeremiah Corbyn’ (that’s the ‘C’). But all the time, in the background, behind the scenes, apart from the Wizards and the Nobles, there's the Honurbale Lady Macbeth, Lady of the Bedchamber to the Bloody Queen, planning, and spinning lies, and pulling strings in order to fulfil her own ends. And then again, it turns out she is serving those Weird Powers called the Delkvovim who want to impose their will on all the Delkurí who live in our World, and change them forever, I believe (I'm sorry but I'm not sure about the foreign words here.) A bod yn onest, lladdodd y nith fach ei hun, a phob copa walltog gaeth ei ladd hefyd mae’n ymddangos. Wedi’r cwbl, ‘Efe gaiff waed; ebe hwynt, Gwaed a geith waed,’ fel y dywed y dyfyniad ar y posteri. Ond roedd un peth yn anodd i fi. Mae’r cyfieithiad i’r Gymraeg gan lanc rhyfeddol o ryw wlad annatblygedig ar lan Afon Sed yng Nghalon y Cyfandir, o’r enw Daa·hweeth Oh·fé neu Daud Pekar (Dai Baxter, dw i'n ddweud) i fod i fod yn ardderchog (enw od arno ta be, on’d ife?). Serch hynny, ddeallwn i’m y rhan fwyaf o beth roedd yr actorion yn ei ddweud – efallai bod nhw’n siarad yr Albaneg neu’r Almaeneg – er bod yr iaith yn swnio fel y Rwsieg, neu rywbeth. Rhyw fath o rwtsh, ta be. Wedi dweud hynny, roedd yn eithriadol o ddiwylliannol, gyda’r holl fabanod mewn crochanau, a choedwigoedd yn cerdded, o a’r gwaed i gyd mor goch â chetshyp tomato! ‘A'r coed a ddifethodd fwy o'r bobl nag a ddifethodd y cleddyf y diwrnod hwnnw’ – roedd Hanes Proffwydol Talbot yn gywir am hynny'n ddi-os, hyd yn oed os hen hocedwr oedd e. To be honest, the little niece killed herself, and every last one of ‘em got killed too it appears. After all, ‘Blood will have blood, they say, Blood will have blood,’ as the quotation declares on the posters. But one thing was hard for me. The translation into Welsh by the strange lad from some undeveloped country on the banks of the Sed in the Heart of the Continent, named Daa·hweeth Oh·fé or Daud Pekar (Dai Baxter, I say) is supposed to be excellent (odd name he’s got though, hasn’t he?). Despite that I didn’t understand the majority of what the actors were saying – perhaps they were speaking Scottish or German – although the language sounded like Russian, or somesuch. Some kind of rubbish, in any case. Having said that, it was exceptionally cultural, with all the babies in cauldrons, and walking forests, and all the blood, as red as tomato ketchup! ‘And the trees destroyed more of the people than the sword destroyed that day’ – Talbot's Prophetic History was right about that without a doubt, even if he was an old rogue. Beth, yn wir, oedd yn digwydd? Beth a wn i? Serch ny roedd yn brofiad bythgofiadwy. Bydd y cwmni (‘Y Chwaraewyr Chwit-chwat’ fel y'u hadwaenir gan y deallusion) yn hercian o gwmpas trefi a phentrefi'r Deheudi dros y gaeaf i ddod â mawredd diwylliant i’r werin bobl yn ystod y tymor mwyaf creulon hwn, sy’n codi lelocs yn y pridd mar’, gan ddrysu cofion â chwant. Dylech chi fynd i weld y sioe ddisglair hon yn bendant. Gair i gall – mae mwy na digon o waed yn llifo fel afon lithrog, ludiog drwy’r perfformiad o ddechrau i ddiwedd. Mae na dipyn bach o fwdw hefyd yn ogystal â dogn o iaith fras fel y gwn i. Byddwch yn ofalus os nad ydych yn hoff iawn o gyfresi treisgar yn debyg i ‘Oddi mewn i’r Cysgodion’ ar y teledu (Ww, mae’n gwneud i fi grynu bob tro!)! What, in fact, was happening? What do I know? Despite that it was an unforgettable experience. The company (‘The Fickle Fol-de-Rols’ as they are known to the intelligentsia) will be dragging themselves around the towns and villages of the Southlands across the winter to bring the wonder of culture to the common people during this cruellest season, which grows lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire. You should go the see this dazzling show, definitely. A word to the wise – there’s more than enough blood flowing like a slippery, sticky river through this performance from start to finish. There’s a bit of voodoo too, as well as a dollop of bad language, as far as I know. Be careful if you’re not too fond of violent series like ‘Out of the Shadows' on the telly (Ooh, it makes me quiver every time!). DADFLOCIO FY MHIBELLAU: O, gan bwyll nawr, yn hen gymrodyr, yr oedd helbul a helynt yn Ein Tŷ Ni’n ddiweddar gyda’r plymwaith. Nage dyn i gwyno am ddim byd ydw i, ond ar y llaw arall, rwy wastad eisiau diolchi’n wresog i bobl am wasanaeth da. Felly dyma i chi gopi o’r llythyr a anfonais i fynegi pa mor ddiolchgar o’n i pan ges i fy achub rhag tynged waeth na marwolaeth — UNBLOCKING MY PIPES: Oh, steady on now, me old mates, there was trouble and strife in Our ‘Ouse recently with the plumbing. Not that I’m man to complain about anything, but, on the other hand, I always want to give warm thanks to people for good service. So, here you have a copy of the letter I sent to express how thankful I was when I was saved from a fate worse than death — ‘Twym fel Tostyn’ Gwasanaethau Gwres: Annwyl Cyfarwyddwr y Cwmni! Yn ffodus iawn, yr oedd angen arnaf alw ar eich cwmni am ymgeledd a chymorth yr wythnos diwethaf pan gefais broblemau ofnadwy gyda’r gwres canolog yn fy mwthyn pitw, a bu bron i mi rewi i farwolaeth yn fy ngharafán lle rwy wedi bod yn byw y tu ôl i’r tŷ dros y gaeaf oherwydd stŵr gyda’r lletywraig. Syrthiaswn i gysgu tra perfformiai ei nith fach mewn drama, ond problem arall yw honno. ‘Warn as Toast’ Heating Services: Dear Company Director! Very fortunately, I had need of calling upon your company for succour and support last week when I experienced awful problems with the central heating in my tiny cottage, and I almost froze to death in my caravan where I have been living behind the house over the winter due to ructions with my lady lodger. I had fallen asleep while her niece was performing in a play, but that’s a different problem. Mae eich hysbysebion (fe’u gwelaswn ar yr arwyddfwrdd yn Nhesbyro) yn honni mai ‘nyni yw’r mwyaf proffesiynol yn y busnes’ ac mewn gwirionedd, o ganlyniad i’m profiad, dywedwn mai hollol gywir yw’r gosodiad hunananghymeradwyol hwn. Felly, teimlaf fod rhaid imi ysgrifennu atoch er mwyn eich llongyfarch am safon eich gwasanaeth, sydd yn eithriadol o dda. Gyda llaw, nid oes golwg ohonoch yn yr hen archfarchnad ffiaidd o’r enw ‘Uwch-siopau,’ a dylai yna fod, yn bendifaddau. Your advertisements (they are to be seen on the noticeboards in Tesbyro) claim that ‘We are the most professional in the business’ and in truth, as a result of my experience, I would say that this self-deprecating statement is totally true. Thus, I feel that I need to write to you in order to congratulate you for the standard of your service, which is exceptionally good. By the way, there no sign of them in the horrid supermarket named ‘Super-shops,’ and there should be, indubitably. O’r tro cyntaf pan wnes i’r alwad ffôn i ofyn am gymorth, cyrhaeddai eich staff bob amser yn brydlon. Wel, gorau po gyntaf, meddant, ac rwy’n cytuno’n llwyr yn yr achos hwn! Ar ben hynny, roeddent yn amyneddgar pan oeddwn yn holi iddynt ar hir broses beth oedd yn digwydd. Roeddent ymhellach yn paratoi potiau o de ar fy nghyfer, er nad ydwyf yn yfed y fath hylif drewllyd; te mate yw fy hoff ddiod. Eto i gyd, siriol oedd pob un o’r chwe llanc, hyd yn oed pan na fwytwn y sleisys enfawr o deisen y cynigient mor rheolaidd â deial, ychwaith. Er, o feddwl amdani’n ddwys, ryw’n credu bod chwe phobl yn ormodol, cofiwch chi! From the first time I made the phone call to ask for help, your staff arrived punctually on every occasion. Well, the sooner the better, they say, and I totally agree in this case! On top of that, they were patient when I was asking at length what was happening. Furthermore they prepared pots of tea for me, although I do not drink such stinking brew; maté tea is my favourite beverage. Then again, every one of the six lads was cheerful, even when I would not eat the enormous slices of cake they offered me as regular as clockwork, either. Although, thinking about it, I think six people is excessive, mind you! Yr oedd ansawdd y gwaith ei hun yn rhagorol hefyd, achos bod y lle yn dechrau teimlo cyn dwymed â’r Sahara ar ôl iddynt adael am y trydydd tro, heb sôn am y ffaith bod eich prisiau’n rhesymol dros ben, wedi rhoi cyfrif am yr holl flychau drudfawr o de Tibetaidd, a’r gacen hufen o fforest law'r Amason. Dyna pam ryw’n mynnu talu’n llawn ac yn ychwanegu cildwrn sylweddol. Rydych yn cynnig gwasanaeth heb ei ail, felly byddaf yn cysylltu â chi eto, a dywedaf wrth fy lletywraig am wneud yn union yr un peth os byddaf yn ei gweld yn fuan. Daliwch ati: marchogion ar feirch gwynion ydych! Dymunwn eich canmol i’r cymylau a’r tu hwnt. Yn eiddoch yn gywir, Mr Ff Phantastig. The standard of the work itself was excellent also, because the place began to feel as warm as the Sahara after they left for the third time, not to mention the fact that your prices are exceedingly reasonable, after taking into account all the costly boxes of Tibetan tea, and the Amazonian gateau. That’s why I am insisting on paying in full and adding a substantial tip. You offer second-to-none service, so I shall be contacting you again, and I shall tell my lady lodger to do the exactly the same thing if I see her soon. Keep up the good work: you are knights in shining armour! I would like to give you the highest praise, and more. Yours faithfully, Mr Ff Phantastig. CEFNOGWCH EICH CYMUNED LEOL! Mae pethau’n mynd o ddrwg i wael ym Mrynfelin ein cymuned hyfryd ni, ar hyn o bryd am fod cwmni o’r enw ‘Uwch-siopau’ eisiau agor archfarchnad enfawr yng nghanol y dref y flwyddyn nesaf. Fe sylweddola pawb eu bod nhw wedi gwneud yn union yr un peth o’r blaen yn y dinasoedd o gwmpas yr ardal, gan achosi i’r rhan fwyaf o werthwyr a chynhyrchwyr lleol golli eu swyddi. Maen nhw’n honni eu bod nhw’n hybu’r economi ac yn creu cyfoeth, ond fel y gwyddoch chi, celwydd noeth yw hyn mewn gwirionedd, a dim ond malu cachu y maent. A beth am Tesbyro? Dyna eisoes y lle lleia drwg i siopa ynddo, fe ddyweda i. SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL COMMUNITY! Things are going from bad to worse in our lovely community of Brynfelin right now, as a company called ‘Super-shops’ wants to open an enormous supermarket in the middle of the town next year. Everyone realises that they’ve done exactly the same thing before in the cities around the area, causing most of the local sellers and producers to lose their jobs. They allege that they’re stimulating the economy and creating wealth, but as you know, this is a barefaced lie in truth, and they’re just talking shit. And what about Tesbyro? That’s already the least bad place to shop in, say I. Wedi dweud hynny, mae ysgol newydd, tri chant o dai, tafarn a sinema wedi’u creu ger yr adeiladau newydd sbon yn Aber-cennin yn ddiweddar, ond ni allaf ddweud o ganlyniad i beth mae hyn wedi digwydd mor sydyn. Y peth nesaf fydd i’w weld yma yw fod llefaryddion y cwmni’nbwriadu dod lan o'n Prifddinas Hynafol Hyfryd ni i gwrdd ag aelodau’r cyhoedd yn ein tref fach bert, er mwyn i ni ‘ddod o hyd i fwy o wybodaeth’ am y sefyllfa ofnadwy sy’n prysur ddatblygu. Ddim gwybodaeth sydd ei heisiau yma, ond weithredu uniongyrchol. Os nad chi, pwy; os nad yn awr, pryd? Having said that, a new school, three hundred houses, a pub and a school have been created near the brand-new buildings in Aber-cennin recently, but I can’t say as a result of what this has happened so suddenly. The next thing that will be seen here is that spokespersons of the company are intending to come up from our Lovely Ancient Capital to meet members of the public in our pretty little town, so that we can ‘find out more information’ am the awful situation that’s quickly developing. It’s not information that’s needed here, but direct action. If not you then who; if not now then when? Byddwch chi’n siŵr o fod yno, yn Neuadd y Dref, ddydd Sul, 1af Ebrill am 9 o’r gloch y bore i fynegi eich gwrthwynebiaeth i’r cynllun gwael hwn. Defnyddiwch eich llais neu collwch eich hunan-barch! Os na fyddwch yn gwneud dim byd, fe fyddwn ni i gyd yn dioddef yn enbyd yn y dyfodol. Fi a ddylai wybod – dw i fy hunan eisoes wedi colli llawer o fusnes yn gwerthu hufen harddwch y tu mas i Tesbyro. Wi’n credu taw un o’r cynhyrfwr dros Uwch-siopau a hysbysodd yr heddlu ynghylch fy menter fach – yr hen gythraul. Gadwech i ni sefyll ynghyd -- mewn undeb y mae nerth! Be sure to be there, in the Town Hall, Sunday 1st April at 9am to express your opposition to this horrible plan. Use your voice or lose your self-respect! If you don’t do anything, we’ll all suffer terribly in the future. I should know – I myself have already lost lots of business selling beauty cream outside Tesbyro. I believe that it’s one of the Super-shops agitators who told the police about my little venture – the old devil. Let us stand together – in unity lies strength! NEWYDDION CYFFROUS AM ŴYL GWIR A GOLAU: Fel y gŵyr pawb, am fy mhechodau rwy’n trefnu popeth ar gyfer yr ŵyl hon. Rydym ni ill dau ar y pwyllgor wedi dewis Sionyn Tew-ddyn i fod ein siaradwr gwadd. Ro’n ni ‘n arfer bod yn yr un dosbarth gyda’n gilydd pan o’n ni’n gryts nes iddo fe gael ei fwrw mas am ei fod yn dwyn afalau oddi ar yr athrawes. Er eich gwybodaeth, dyma fi’n anfon gair i’r hen gonan sy ddim yn werth pris y stamp a bod yn onest, ond dyna ni, roedd Enwen yn ddi-ildio – EXCITING NEWS ABOUT THE FESTIVAL OF TRUTH AND LIGHT: As everyone knows, for my sins I’m organising everything for this festival. The two of us on the committee have chosen to be our Johnny Fatso to be our invited speaker. We used to be in the same class as each other when we were kids until he got thrown out because he was stealing apples from the lady teacher. For your information, here am I, having a word with the old bugger who’s not worth the price of the stamp to be honest, but there we are, Enwen was adamant — Yr Anrhydeddus Siôn Grossmann. Annwyl Syr!, Dr Phantastig yw f’enw. Rwy’n byw ym Maes-y-tywod, hynny yw, ardal fwyaf dymunol Brynfelin, a chadeirydd grŵp bach trafod o’r enw ‘Y Rhan-amserwyr’ ydwyf ar hyn o bryd. Yn gyntaf oll, a allaf eich llongyfarch ar gael eich ethol i Lys y Sêr – trwy deg neu drwy hagr – unwaith eto, o drwch blewyn y tro hwn wrth gwrs! Ond eto i gyd, gwell y drwg a wyddys na'r drwg na wyddys, fel y medd yr athronwyr! Nid unigolyn drwg ydych chi, mae angen arnaf ddweud. Wel, rydym yn dathlu eleni hefyd, achos mai ein pen-blwydd yn ddeugain mlwydd oed ydy, ac felly byddwn yn trefnu llawer o ddigwyddiadau drwy’r dref fydd yn llawn o faneri, fflagiau, a rhubanau. The Honourable John Grossmann. Dear Sir!, Dr Ffantastig is my name. I live in Sandy-fields, that is, that most desirable area of Brynfelin, and I am chairperson of a small discussion group called ‘The Part-timers’ at the moment. First of all, can I congratulate you on being elected to the Star Chamber – by fair means or foul – once again, by a hair’s breadth this time of course! But then again, better the devil you know that the one you don’t know, as the philosophers say! Not that you are a bad person, I have to say. Well, we are celebrating this year too, as it is out fortieth anniversary, and therefore we will be organising a lot of events throughout the town, which will be full of banners, flags, and ribbons. Bydd un o’r achlysuron arbennig yn barti yn y bar Awstralaidd o’r enw ‘Y Walabi Ewn,’ Ddydd Rhyngwladol Gwir a Golau, 29ain Chwefror, yn dechrau am 3 o’r gloch y prynhawn – caiff pawb ddigon o amser i ymlawenhau felly, gadewch inni ddweud. Byddem wrth ein boddau ped ymunech â ni er mwyn mwynhau gwydraid o win coch a brechdan gaws, a chynnig llwncdestun i’r meirwon craff i gyd. Gwn ichi fynd i’r ‘fan arall,’ sef i Brifysgol Rhydrawnt, tra mynychwn minnau Goleg Polytechnig Pontychen. Ond er gwaethaf y ffaith ichi astudio cwrs ôl-fodern a enwir yn ‘Egwyddorion Ymarfer’ (heb raid graddio) efallai yr areithiech am ychydig funudau (hyd at ddwy awr y gwnâi’r tro) ar bwysigrwydd addysg foesol mewn cymdeithas gyfoes. One of the special occasions will be a party in the Australian bar called ‘The Cheeky Wallaby,’ on the International Day of Truth and Light, February 29th, starting at 3pm – so everyone will have enough time to get jolly, let us say. We would be in our element if you could join us in order to enjoy a glass of red wine and a cheese sandwich, and offer a toast to all the discerning departed. I know that you went to the ‘other place,’ namely to Camford University, whilst I attended Oxbridge Polytechnic College. But despite the fact that you studied a post-modern course named ‘Principles of Study’ (without needing to graduate), perhaps you would hold forth for a few minutes (up to two hours would do the trick) on the importance of moral education in contemporary society. Nid ydym yn sefydliad cyfoethog, gwaetha’r modd, ac felly mae’n ddrwg iawn gennyf na allaf eich talu am eich trafferth, yn enwedig gan fy mod yn gwybod pa mor bwysig ichi yw cael eich arian yn ei ôl ar draul y cyhoedd. Wedi dweud hynny, bydd yn bosibl inni ddarparu tocyn dwyffordd bws i Aber-cennin ichi os teithiwch yn ystod y cyfnod rhataf. Cefnogwr o gludiant cyhoeddus ydych, heb os nac oni bai. Wedyn bydd rhywun yn cwrdd â chi pan gyrhaeddwch. Rwy’n gobeithio y dewch i gymryd rhan. Nid oes rhaid i mi ddweud, bydd gohebydd o’r papur bro yno ar y dydd; rydym yn dwyn mewn cof fod cyhoeddusrwydd o bwys mwyaf i wleidyddion. Rhowch wybod imi ynglŷn â’r trefniadau cyn gynted ag y bo’n gyfleus, os gwelwch yn dda. Ydwyf, Syr (yr hen gono chi!), eich ufudd was, Ffred Phantastig. We are not a wealthy society, more’s the pity, and therefore I am very sorry that I cannot pay you for your trouble, especially as I know how important it is to you to gain reimbursement from the public purse. Having said that, it will be possible for us to provide a return bus ticket to Aber-cennin for you if you travel during the cheapest period. You are a supporter of public transport, no doubt. Then, someone will meet you when you arrive. I hope you will come to take part. I have no need to say, there will be a correspondent from the local paper there on the day; we bear in mind that publicity is of the greatest importance to politicians. Let me know about the arrangements as soon as it may be convenient, if you please. I am, Sir (you old fool), your humble and obedient servant, Ffred Phantastig. GWNEUD CAIS AM SWYDD: Ar ôl yr holl broblemau pan o’n i’n gweithio fel lladd nadredd i atal ymosodiad gan drychfilod enfawr yng Nghlinig y Pin yn y goedwig ger yr hen Dŷ Glas sawl blwyddyn yn ôl, mae wedi bod yn anodd i fi ddal ati gyda swydd barhaol. Ond bryd hyn, prin ydy arian – a phawb drosto'i hunan, ac i'r diawl â'r diwethaf yw dywediad y dydd. Felly, pan ddigwyddais i ddod ar draws yr hysbyseb yn y papur bro am swydd briodol iawn, fe deimlai y dylai wneud cais ar unwaith, a dyma beth sgrifennais i — APPLYING FOR A JOB: After all the problems when I was working like crazy to stop the invasion by giant insects in the Pines Clinic in the woods near the old Bluehouse a few years ago, it’s been hard for me to stick at it with a permanent job. But by now, money’s scarce – and everyone for him/her self, and devil take the hindmost, is the saying of the day. So, when I happened to come across the advertisement in the local paper for a very appropriate job, I felt I should apply at once, and here’s what I wrote — Annwyl Syr neu Fadam! Rwy wedi gweld yr hysbyseb am y swydd o’r enw ‘Cynorthwyydd Hunanlywodraethol Llawn Amser Canolfan Chwedlonol Brynfelin’ yn y papur bro fis hwn, ac rwy’n awyddus iawn i wneud cais am hon. Nid oedd llawer o fanylion yn yr hysbyseb, felly dymunwn ddweud wrthych rywfaint amdanaf fy hun er mwyn profi fy mod yn addas i wneud y gwaith y bydd rhaid i’w gyflawni o ddydd i ddydd. Rwy’n gweithio gartre ar hyn o bryd fel cyfieithydd rhydd ei law, gan gynhyrchu fersiynau hen lawysgrifau wedi’u hysgrifennu mewn ieithoedd marw fel ‘Y Crochan sy Wastad yn Llawn’ o Bahia, Brasil. Felly gallaf ddechrau ar unwaith. Arferwn weithio fel cemegydd, a deuthum yn arbenigwr hunanaddysgedig pan symudais yn ôl i Gymru, o ganlyniad i’m diddordeb yn chwedlau Teml y Gogoniant Cuddiedig yng Ngwm-ran. Felly mae llawer o brofiad gennyf mewn pethau anarferol. Dear Sir or Madam! I have seen the advertisement for the job of ‘Brynfelin Mythical Centre Full-time Self-managing Assistant’ in the local paper this month, and I am very keen to apply for this. There were not a lot of details in the advertisement, therefore I would like to tell you something about myself in order to prove that I am suitable to do the work that will need to be done from day to day. I work at home at the moment as a freelance translator, producing versions of old manuscripts written in dead languages, such as ‘The Overflowing Pot’ from Bahia, Brazil. So, I can start at once. I used to work as a chemist, and became a self-taught specialist when I moved back to Wales, as a result of my interest in the legends of the Temple of the Hidden Glory in Cwm-ran. So, I have a lot of experience in unusual things. Rwy wedi bod ati’n dysgu’r Gymraeg drwy gydol f’oes, a thybiaf fy mod cyn rhugled â neb arall erbyn hyn. Rwy newydd sefyll yr arholiad priodol i’r cymhwyster o’r enw ‘Diploma mewn Astudiaethau,’ a ddarperir gan Sefydliadau Cyfun Rhydrawnt a Phontychen. Pam na chynigir hwn gan Goleg Cymraeg a Chymreig? Nid myfi a ŵyr. Llwyddais yn orchestol yn y prawf hwn, a nawr gallaf areithio gan ddefnyddio brawddegau erchyll o gymhleth mewn Cymraeg hynafol, fel y rhai a geir yn ‘Cystrawen y Frawddeg Gymraeg’ gan Melville Richards (Gwasg Prifysgol Cymru Caerdydd; 1970). I have been working hard to learn Welsh all my life, and I think that I am as fluent as anyone else by now. I have just sat the exam for the qualification called ‘Diploma in Studies,’ which is provided by the Combined Institutions of Oxbridge and Camford. Why is this not offered by a Welsh-language Welsh College? I do not know. I passed with flying colours in this test, and now I can orate using horrifyingly complex sentences in Ancient Welsh, such as those in ‘Cystrawen y Frawddeg Gymraeg’ by Melville Richards (University of Wales Press Cardiff; 1970). Byddwn yn falch o gael cyfle i gefnogi’n hiaith, ein diwylliant, ein hanes, ein chwedlau, a’n harferion od yn y Ganolfan ac i’w hybu yn y gymuned ehangach y tu hwnt – megis trwy hudoliaeth neu beidio. Mae rhaid imi ddweud fy mod yn hoff iawn o anifeiliaid, yn enwedig cathod, ac os bydd angen gallaf drin â phobl yn dda iawn hefyd, yn ôl fy lletywraig arhosol. Rwy’n berffaith siŵr fod y gwasanaeth cymuned yn yr ysgol i blant unigryw, y bu raid imi ei wneud o ganlyniad i gamgymeriad anffodus yn y gweithle, wedi bod yn ddefnyddiol iawn o safbwynt deall pobl ifanc a hŷn a’u gormodedd o fannau gwan. Ymhellach, rwy wedi dod o hyd i oriau agor y Canolfan yn ystod yr wythnos ar eich gwefan, ac yn wir y credaf mai eithriadol o bwysig ydy presenoldeb ar y rhyngrwyd. I would be pleased to get a chance to support our language, our culture, our history, and our strange customs in the Centre and to promote them in the wider community beyond – as if by magic, or not. I must say that I am very fond of animals, especially cats, and if necessary I can deal with people very well too, according to my permanent lodging-lady. I am perfectly sure that the community service in the school for unique children that I had to do on account of an unfortunate mistake in the workplace, has been very useful from the point of view of understanding people, old and young, and their profusion of foibles. Furthermore, I have found the Centre’s opening times during the week on your website, and indeed I believe that an internet-presence is exceptionally important. Es i ar gwrs o’r enw Hyfforddiant Cyfathrebu Pwrpasol yn Ysgol Ffydd y Ddau Ferthyr Dienw ar Bymtheg a Thrigain yn ddiweddar, wedi’i drefnu gan gangen ranbarthol Cymdeithas Ostyngedig Arolygwyr a Chywirwyr. Rwy’n deall cyfathrebu ac offerynnau cyfathrebu, a gallaf ddatblygu cynllun cyfathrebu syml ar gyfer ein Canolfan, gan ddefnyddio meddalwedd ar gyfer gwefannau i gynyddu ein presenoldeb ar y rhyngrwyd am ddim. Ar ben hynny, hoffwn ddefnyddio rhwydweithiau cymdeithasol i weithio’n agos gyda chynulleidfaoedd newydd ac i ennill incwm, gan ddefnyddio’r cyfryngau i hyrwyddo eich gwaith, trwy ysgrifennu straeon addas ar gyfer y newyddion, a thrwy lunio datganiadau i’r wasg. I went on a course called Appropriate Communication Training in the the Seventy-Seven Faceless Martyrs Faith School recently, organised by the regional branch of the Humble Society of Invigilators and Correctors. I understand communication and tools of communication, and can develop a simple communication plan for our Centre, using website software to increase our presence on the internet for free. On top of that, I would like to use social networks to work closely with new audiences and to earn income, using the media to promote our work, by writing stories suitable for the news, and by fashioning press-releases. Dim ond dau gwestiwn sydd gennyf, sef yn gyntaf, a fydd angen arnaf wneud ceisiadau am gyllid o gwbl? Rwy wedi ennill maint bach oddi wrth Sefydliad Tywysogaidd Cymru yn y gorffennol (enw sydd yn annealladwy i’m hymennydd dryslyd o leiaf, ond dyna ni, nid dim mor rhyfedd â dyn, ife?), er mwyn gwneud arbrofion cemegol ynglŷn â pherffeithio elicsir clirwelediad o fadarch hudol, a thawelydd y bydd milfeddygon yn ei ddefnyddio ar geffylau, gwartheg ac anifeiliaid eraill. Wedi dweud hynny, gwerthfawrogwn hyfforddiant ychwanegol pe bai hwn ar gael. I have only two questions, namely first, will I need to apply for finance at all? I have won a small amount from the Princely Association of Wales in the past (a name which is incomprehensible to my confused mind at least, but there we are, there’s nowt as strange as folk, is there?), in order to do chemical experiments involved in perfecting a potion of second-sight from magic mushrooms, and tranquilizer that veterinaries use for horses, cattle, and other animals. Having said that, I would appreciate additional training if that were available. Fy ail gwestiwn yw hwn: beth fydd yr amserau cyfatebol dros y Sul? Fe fyddai’n well gennyf weithio ar ddydd Sadwrn nag ar brynhawn Gwener, gan fod angen imi fynychu seremoni yn y Deml bryd hynny, yn fy rôl fel Ceidwad y Cyfrinachau. Gobeithiaf y diwallech fy anghenion arbennig yn hyn o beth. Rwy’n brwd ddisgwyl eich ymateb. Ryw’n edrych ymlaen at ddechrau cyn gynted ag y bo bosibl ac mewn gwirionedd ofnadwy o gyffrous ydwyf. Yr eiddoch yn gywir, Ffred Phantastig. My second question is this: what will be the equivalent hours over the weekend? I would prefer working on Saturday than on Friday afternoon, as I need to attend a ceremony in the Temple at that time, in my role as Keeper of the Secrets. I hope that you could satisfy my special needs in this. I am keenly awaiting your answer. I look forward to beginning as soon as it may be possible and in truth I am terribly excited. Yours faithfully, Ffred Phantastig. Wel, dyna ni wedi dod i ben ar y sgwrsio unwaith to, bobol bach! Hwyl am y tro, wela i chi i gyd fis nesaf gyda rhagor o ddiwylliant, materion cyfoes, hysbysebion cymunedol ac yn y blaen, ac ati hyd at gyfoedi – a chofiwch, ‘Tyrd, gad im’ dy gythru. Ni’th ddalaf, ond fe’th ddalaf di’n wir.’ Well, there we are at the end of our chattering once again, you folks! Bye-bye for now, I’ll see you all again next month with more culture, current affairs, community announcements, and so on and so forth, ad nauseam – and remember, ‘Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.’

Pennod Dau: Mae Ffred yn Bwyta Mas / Ffred Eats Out

Cyfarchion cynhesaf fy nghyfeillion bore oes! Mor ddymunol ydy cael pleser eich cwmni unwaith yn rhagor. Heddiw mynnaf eich goleuo ynghylch y pwnc llosg o fwyd rhyngwladol. “Yr Eliffant Gwyn” yw fy hoff dŷ bwyta heb gysgod o amheuaeth. Lle lliwgar iawn ydy, sy’n drewi o ffrwyth Indiaidd gwaharddedig. Dychmygwch y ddau hen ddihiryn hynny, Dvaldí a Hlevné, yn noethlymun groen yng Ngardd y Pleserau Daearol (nid oedd angen dail ffigys bryd hynny) lle dan ganghennau coeden bomgranad yr eistedd duw tew a chwardd yn ei ddyblau, ac iddo drwnc hir sarffaidd, clustiau dirfawr sigladwy, a llawer o freichiau fel Mistar Goglais. Ac yno mae’r creadur hyf yn denu’r ddau sy’n newynu am wybodaeth ryseitiau dirgel â dysglau fyrdd o gyrri stemllyd, danteithiol.

Ww, dyw swyddogion Cangen Filwrol newydd yr EFE (hynny yw, yr Eglwys Fyd-Eang) dim yn rhy hoff o gwbl o’r fath ffeuau drygioni ble bydd y bywyd, y diodydd, y sbeisys, y gerddoriaeth ac adloniant arall, a’r naws, yn peri i ddyn lawenychu’n ddirfawr. Yn wir fe allai’r ficeriaid arfog ddwyn cyrch ar y lle unrhyw bryd. Eto i gyd, dim ond apothecari gostyngedig a dibwys wyf fi, wrth gwrs, sy’n tincran gyda hud yn ei amser sbâr, a dyw hi ddim fel petai olyniaeth faith o Ddewiniaid yn y teulu. Dyw’r awdurdodau ddim yn talu fawr o sylw imi, yn enwedig pan wyf wedi bod yn prysur weithio mor ddirgel yn labordy’r Clinig yn Aberdydd. Er gwaethaf fy holl bryderon, felly, ynghylch y pethau ofnadwy sy’n digwydd ym mhob cwr o’r Byd, dw i ddim yn gallu peidio mynychu bwytai cudd, sinemâu tanddaearol, arddangosfeydd anghyfreithlon, a chyrsiau astrus.

Nid gŵr dewr mohonof fi, ond bydd yr ofn yn gwneud i’r suddion creadigol lifo. Yna fe fyddaf yn ymdrwytho yn y syniadau rhyfedd fydd yn codi bob amser i lenwi fy nychymyg ffrwythlon a’m hysbrydoli. O bryd i’w gilydd fe deimlaf fel petai Grym Diatal y Ddaear yn arllwys trwof fi, hyd yn oed, gan fy ngalw yn fy mlaen tuag at ryw Fyd Arall. Rwy’n rhyw hanner breuddwydio mai os byddaf yn ymladd yn ôl cyn amled ag y medraf yn fy ffordd fy hun, dyna fydd un i’r awdurdodau gormesol. Dyma adroddiad wedi’i seilio ar fy mhrofiad fy hun felly, gobeithio byddwch chi’n ei fwynhau, neu gael rhyw les ganddo o leiaf.

Warmest greetings my lifelong buddies! It is so gratifying to have the pleasure of your company once again. Today I wish to enlighten you regarding the burning topic of international cuisine. “The While Elephant” is my favourite restaurant without a shadow of a doubt. It is a most colourful place, which reeks of forbidden Indian fruit. Imagine those two old scoundrels, Dvaldí and Hlevné, stark-naked in the Garden of Earthly Delights (there was no need for fig-leaves at that time) where sits, under the boughs of a pomegranate tree, a fat god who’s laughing heartily, with a long serpentine trunk, humungous flappable ears, and lots of arms like Mr Tickle. And there the cheeky creature tempts the two who hunger after the knowledge of secret recipes with myriad dishes of delicious, steaming curry.

Ooh, the officers of the new Military Branch of EGO (that is, Ecclesia Generalis Omnipotensque) are not too fond at all of such iniquitous dens where the food, the drinks, the spices, the music and other entertainment, and the atmosphere, send one into paroxysms of delight. Indeed, the armed vicars could raid the place any time. Then again, I am but a humble and unimportant apothecary, of course, who tinkers with magic in his spare time, and it’s not as if there is a long line of Magicians in the family. The authorities do not pay too much attention to me, especially when I have been busy working so secretly in the laboratory of the Clinic in Aberdydd. Despite all my worries, therefore, regarding the terrible things that are occurring in every corner of the World, I cannot restrain myself from frequenting hidden food-outlets, underground cinemas, illegal exhibitions, and abstruse courses.

I am not a brave man, but the fear makes the creative juices flow. Then I steep myself in the strange ideas that always arise to fill my fruitful imagination and inspire me. On occasion, I even feel like the Earth’s Unstoppable Force is pouring through me, calling me on towards some Other World. I just sort of dream that if I fight back as often as I can in my own way, then that’ll be one in the eye for the oppressive authorities. This is a report based on my own experience, then, I hope you’ll enjoy it, or at least benefit somewhat from it.

Rwy’n dwlu ar fwyd sbeisiog, ac yn wir, am daith ar ffigar-êt coginiol oedd i ddod. Licswn i gyfleu ichi ychydig o’r naws a brofais y tro cyntaf y gwnes i dywyllu’i ddrws yn laslanc gwirion, amser maith yn ôl, ond eto i gyd, mae hen gof gan hen gi, onid oes? Efallai y byddaf yn dychwelyd yno am yr eildro cyn hir, a gobeithiaf y cofiant yr hen ddihareb, cân di bennill mwyn i’th nain, fe gân dy nain i tithau, pryd bynnag y gwnelwyf. I love spicy food, and indeed, what a culinary roller-coaster journey was to come. I would like to convey to you a little of the atmosphere I experienced the first time I darkened its door as a stripling lad, ages ago, but then again, an old dog has an old memory, doesn’t it? Perhaps I shall return for a second rime before long, and I hope they will remember the old proverb, sing a sweet song to your Gran, and then she’ll be your biggest fan, whenever I might do so. Cyn ddistawed â'r bedd ydoedd yno am hanner dydd un Sadwrn gwlyb yng nghanol yr haf (roedd yn dawelach a bod yn onest, o feddwl am yr holl gybiaid oedd yn caboli’r cerrig beddi ac yn plannu blodau parhaol caled yn ymylon y fynwent y drws nesaf). ‘Rarglwydd roeddent yn cael hwyl a sbort a sbri o bob math ymhlith meirwon yr oesau, er gwaethaf y tywydd gwael. Yn yr oes yr ydym yn byw ynddi, fe ddylai pawb ddathlu rhodd marwolaeth heddychlon ac ebargofiant tragwyddol yn ei dilyn yn fwy aml, gan fod hon a wna i fyw fod yn werth chwil, rwy’n credu. O, y pethau rwy wedi eu gweld yn ystod fy mywyd, y cofion i gyd sy’n aros gennyf. Ond un dydd fe fydd popeth wedi mynd fel dagrau yn y glaw, pan ddaw’r amser i fi gysgu am byth. Wel am lol botes maip! Digon yw digon ar yr holl synfyfyrio athroniaethol, yr hen glebrwr. It was as quiet as the grave there at midday one wet Saturday in the middle of the summer (it was quieter to be honest, thinking about all the cubs who were polishing the grave-stones and planting hardy perennials in the verges of the cemetery next door). My Lord, they were having all manner of fun and enjoyment and diversion amongst the dead of the ages, despite the foul weather. In the period in which we live, everyone should celebrate more often the gift of a peaceful death and everlasting oblivion following it, because this is what makes living worthwhile, I believe. O, the things I’ve seen during my life, all the memories which remain with me. But one day everything will be gone like tears in the rain, when the time comes for me to sleep forever. Well, what a lot of old tosh! Enough is enough with all the philosophical musing, you old chatter-box. Felly awn ni yn ein blaen gyda hanes yr epiffani o ran fy mlasbwyntiau. Roeddwn yn teimlo fel petawn yn bwyta gwellt fy ngwely ar ôl trallodion yr wythnos honno. Yn sydyn, fodd bynnag, roedd yn fy nharo i taw cam dros y trothwy yw hanner y daith, a chloffi rhwng dau feddwl a wnes i am eiliad gan ystyried wrthyf fy hun. Wedi dweud hynny, roedd y rheolwr cyn falched â phaun, ac yn glustiau i gyd pan ofynnais am y fwydlen. Brasgamasai fe tuag ataf oddi mewn i’w adeilad tra oeddwn yn llechi’r tu mas iddo. Gŵr urddasol, swmpus oedd e, yn gwisgo lifrai sidan, wyrddlas ac arni ysgwyddarnau a botymau o aur; ac am ei ben roedd twrban ysgarlad wedi’i addurno â phlu ffenics. Fel rhyw was y Nawab yn yr Oes Fictoraidd oedd e. Neu fe ddichon yr oedd yn ellyll golygus ond dychrynllyd o chwedl Arabaidd megis y Mil Noswaith ac Un, sut y gwyddwn i yn fy nghyni? Ond beth bynnag a fuasai roeddwn wedi fy mesmereiddio gan ei farf, oedd mor gringoch â’r Uffern ddydd Wener y Groglith. Yn wir, yr oedd i fod yn achlysur arbennig dros ben. So, let us proceed with the tale of the epiphany concerning my taste-buds. I was feeling so hungry I could eat my own pillow, after the tribulations of that week. Suddenly, however, it struck me that a step across the threshold is half the journey, and I hovered between two courses for an instant, cogitating internally. Having said that, the manager was as pleased as Punch, and all ears, when I asked for the menu. He had stridden towards me from within his premises while I was lurking outside it. He was a dignified, substantial fellow, wearing sea-green silken livery, with epaulettes and gold buttons, and on his head was a scarlet turban adorned with a phoenix feather. Like some servant to the Nawab in the Victorian Age he was. Or perhaps he was a handsome but terrifying demon from an Arabian tale such as the Thousand-and-One Nights, how was I to know, in my distress? But whatever he might have been, I was mesmerized by his beard, which was as ginger as Hell on Good Friday. Truly, it was to be an exceptionally special occasion. Y tu mewn, yr oedd y lle mor chwaethus. Roedd darnau dieithr o waith llaw ym mhob man; roedd hyd yn oed y waliau wedi’u haddurno â lluniau o dduwdodau gleision, a’u cnau coco enfawr a’u gwaywffyn anferthol. Bu bron i’m llygaid sefyll allan o’m ben. Nid oedd ddim byd fel ystrydeb ffiaidd, felly. Ar ben hynny, doedd hi ddim yn rhy boeth na swnllyd, heblaw am y gorgan ddi-baid a lifai o’r cyrn sain fel oernad rhyw gath ar fin marw (ac roeddwn eisoes yn gwybod gormod am hynny, ond well imi gadw at y stori). Serch hynny, doedd dim gormod o fynychwyr (nid yr un enaid byw heblaw amdanaf fi) ac roedd digon o le i chwipio chwannen (fel petai), diolch byth, achos fy mod yn casáu mannau caeedig. Os bydda i’n teimlo’n anesmwyth, fe fydd tuedd i fi ymddwyn yn debyg i goblyn bach anwar, fydd yn bloeddio ac yn udo, a cheisio rhedeg i ffwrdd fel gwenci. Inside, the place was so tasteful. There were alien pieces of hand-craft everywhere; even the walls were decorated with pictures of blue divinities, and their huge coconuts and enormous spears. My eyes almost popped out of my head. It was nothing like a foul stereotype, then. Furthermore, it was neither too hot nor too noisy, apart from the ceaseless chanting that flowed from the loudspeakers like the screeching of some cat at death’s door (and I already knew too much about that, but I had better keep to the story). Despite that, there was not a glut of patrons (not a single living soul apart from me) and there was enough space to swing a cat (as it were), thank goodness, because I detest enclosed spaces. If I feel uneasy, there is a tendency for me to behave like an uncivilized imp, who shouts and wails, and tries to run off like the wind. Yn unol â chyngor y fisir mawreddog, fe gefais i saig arbennig y tŷ sef “Dial yr Ymerawdwr” am ddecpunt ar hugain gan gynnwys tri chwrs a pheint. Nid craig o arian ydwyf erbyn hyn, ddim o bell ffordd, ac nid oeddwn i erbyn hynny ychwaith gan fy mod i newydd golli fy swydd yn y gwaith cemeg. Y mab a anwyd i rôt nid eiff byth i bum ceiniog, fel y meddant. Ond, roedd llawer o arian parod yn fy mhoced i ar ôl i fi dreulio’r bore’ma yn gwerthu hufen harddwch yn cynnwys ffwr cath a the mate, (hynny yw, math o drwyth a wneir o ddail llwyn Ilex paraguayensis) y tu allan i’r archfarchnad enfawr o’r enw Tesbyro. Roedd rhaid i fi wneud gwasanaeth cymunedol o ganlyniad i hynny ond stori hollol wahanol yw honno. In accordance with the imposing vizier’s advice, I had the house special, namely “Emperor’s Revenge” for thirty pounds including three courses and a pint. I am not made of money right now, not by a long chalk, nor was I was then either, as I had just lost my job in the chemical works. He who is born to fourpence will never achieve fivepence, as they say. But there was a lot of loose change in my pocket after I had spent that morning selling beauty cream containing cat fur and matte tea (that is, a type of infusion made from the leaves of the Ilex paraguayensis) outside the enormous supermarket called Tesbyro. I had to do community service as a result of that, but that’s a totally different story. Fe wnes i ddechrau gyda chwrs cyntaf o selsig Morgannwg â sinsir, garlleg, a chwmin, dysgl o gawl cocos a gwymon, ynghyd â bara naan brith a chaws Caerffili a chyrens ynddo, ar gyfer llyncu’r diferion olaf. Roedd y cyfuniad o sawrau estronol fel symffoni ar daflod fy ngenau. Drwy’r amser roeddwn i’n dal i feddwl taw gormod o bwdin a dagith gi, ond na allwn ffrwyno fy chwant bwyd. Wedyn, ymwrthodais y cyrri malwod arferol, ac yn ei le, mwynheais gyrri cig eidion â tsilis sybachog, ychwanegol, a chwilboeth ar y cythraul ydoedd hefyd, am ei fod yn cynnwys puprennod poethaf y byd, sef “medelwr Carolina.” Sut y gwn i? Wel, fe’u gwerthir yn Nhesbyro, sydd y lle llai drwg i fynd i siopa, yn fy marn ostyngedig i. I started with a first course of Glamorganshire sausage with ginger, garlic, and cumin, a dish of cockle and seaweed soup, together with speckled naan bread containing Caerphilly cheese and currants, for gobbling down the last drops. The combination of strange odours was like a symphony on my palate. All the time, I kept on thinking that too much pudding chokes a dog, but I could not restrain my appetite. Then, I forewent the usual snail curry, and in its place I enjoyed beef curry with extra crinkly chillis, and devilish hot it was, too, as it contained the world’s hottest peppers, namely “Carolina huntsman.” How do I know? Well, they are sold in Tesbyro, which is the least bad place to go shopping, in my humble opinion. Wedi hyn oll, bues o fewn y dim i drengi o syched, ac roeddwn i’n gorfod cael peint (neu ddau) o lagyr, o’r enw “Glas y Gorlan,” i ddiffodd y tân eiriasboeth yn fy ngheg. Cofiwch chi’n awr na byddaf yn yfed fel rheol ddim ond poteli bach o gwrw chwerw gwan fel “Paun Gwirion.” Ni bydd Enwen fy lojar yn gadael imi lymeitian ar unrhyw beth mwy meddwol os gall hi fy rhwystro. Ond ddyddiau a fu, ac yn enwedig yn yr ogof o londer honno, oedd yn dywyll a swynol, ni allwn i ddim peidio. ‘Neno'r mawredd, roedd y lagyr hwnnw cyn gryfed â gwenwyn y weddw ddu! Mewn gwynfyd, cwplais i’r pryd o fwyd gyda hufen iâ cnau’r India, a saws o ganel a chlof arno. After all this, I was on the verge of dying of thirst, and I had to have a pint (or two) of lager, called “Kingfisher,” to extinguish the scorching fire in my mouth. Remember now that I drink as a rule nothing but small bottles of bitter beer like “Mad Peacock.” Enwen my lodger won’t let me tipple on anything more intoxicating if she can stop me. But in days past, and in particular in that cave of delights that was dark and enchanting, I could not resist. Great Heavens, that lager was as strong as the black widow’s poison! In ecstasy, I finished the meal with nutmeg ice-cream and cinnamon and clove sauce. Mor llawen â’r gog ar y gainc oeddwn, er bu bron i’m perfeddion ffrwydro. Ond o gofio hyn, rhaid i fi roi gair o rybudd i chi: byddwch yn ofalus wrth ddefnyddio’r cyfleusterau yno. Pan ddechreuodd fy ngholuddyn mawr chwyrnu fel ci’n sugno’r mêr o asgwrn suddlon, rhuthrais i’r tŷ bach, sy’n dwt ond yn bêr iawn, lle caeodd y drws yn glep y tu ôl i fi. Yn anffodus, aeth y clo yn sownd, ac ar ôl hanner awr o ymdrechu ar y sedd borslen, wedi’i dilyn gan awr o weiddi drwy dwll y clo, fe’m hachubwyd gan weinydd yn ei lifrai odidog. Ar ben hynny, oherwydd fy mhrofiad anesmwythol, roedd o’r pwys mwyaf imi dawelu fy nerfau carpiog. Ar unwaith, felly, fe chwafftiais ddysglaid o goffi Cymreig (mae hon yn cynnwys llawer mwy o wisgi, na choffi Gwyddelig cyffredin) ac wedyn, yn syth, un arall. I was as happy as a sand-boy, although my insides were almost exploding. But, while I remember this, I must give you a word of warning: be careful whilst using the conveniences there. When my large intestine began to growl like a dog sucking the marrow from a juicy bone, I rushed to the latrine, which is bijou but most agreeable, where the door slammed shut behind me. Unfortunately, the lock got stuck, and after half an hour’s effort on the porcelain seat, followed by an hour of shouting through the keyhole, I was saved by a waiter in his splendid uniform. Moreover, because of my disconcerting experience, it was of the greatest importance for me to calm my tattered nerves. At once, therefore, I despatched a cup of Welsh coffee (this contains much more whiskey that ordinary Irish coffee) and then straightaway, another. Yn y pendraw, roeddwn yn cydganu nerth esgyrn fy mhen gyda’r gerddoriaeth gyfareddol gan fytheirio’n uchel. Fe gefais fy nghanmol i’r cymylau yn y Sansgrit coethaf am fod mor ddewr, siŵr o fod (dyna ichi iaith liwgar a mynegol). Rwy wedi bod wrthi hi’n dysgu am bethau fel gwyddorau ac arwyddluniau, ac ieithoedd marw fel Mesmes o Ethiopia, a Nyawaygi o Awstralia, a Pataxó Hã-Ha-Hãe o Frasil. Rwy’n breuddwydio am gyfieithu rhywbeth diddorol a diddanol i’r Gymraeg yn y dyfodol ('Hanes Gwarthus y Mwncïod Cochion Hwyliog,' er enghraifft), ac rwy o fewn ychydig i lwyddo! Dyna ddysgu gydol oes ichi, onid ife? Ond digon am fy hobïau i. In the end, I was singing along at the top of my lungs with the enchanting music while belching loudly. I was praised to the heavens in the most refined Sanskrit for being so brave, probably (there’s a colourful and expressive language for you). I have been busy at it learning about things like alphabets and pictograms, and dead languages like Mesmes from Ethiopia, and Nyawaygi from Australia, and Pataxó Hã-Ha-Hãe from Brazil. I dream of translating something interesting and entertaining into Welsh in the future (‘The Shameful Tale of the Boisterous Red Monkeys,’ for instance), and I’m close to succeeding! That’s life-long learning for you, isn’t it? But enough about my hobbies. Fe’m danfonwyd i’r drws cyn pen dim gan y rheolwr a gadwasai lygad barcut arnaf trwy gydol y perfformiad swynol. Ac wrth gwrs fe fues i’n foesgar iawn pan ddangosodd y sieff ei gyllyll fwyaf miniog imi ar fy ffordd allan. Kali dduw dinistr a ŵyr beth fyddai wedi digwydd pe buaswn i wedi yfed “Teigr” neu “Cobra”! Mae’n well gennyf gathod nag adar, ond yr wyf yn ofni’r rhai mawr fel llewod ac yn y blaen, heb sôn am ymlusgiaid heb goesau! Mae walabïod (a adwaenir fel gor-gangarŵod) yn wych hefyd, ond tueddant i fod yn haerllug, os cânt y cyfle (fel yn y stori 'Hanes yr Wyth Walabi Drwg oedd Eisiau Cymryd yr Holl Fyd Drosodd')! I was shown to the door in no time by the manager who had kept and eagle eye on me throughout the magical performance. And of course I was very polite when the chef showed me his sharpest knife on my way out. Kali god of destruction knows what would have happened were I to have drunk “Tiger” or “Cobra”! I prefer cats to birds, but I’m frightened of large ones like lions and so on, not to mention legless reptiles! Wallabies (which are also known as dwarf-kangaroos) are great too, but they tend to be impudent if they get the chance (like in the story 'The History of the Eight Wicked Wallabies who Wanted to Take Over the Whole World')! Fe fyddwn i’n eich annog chi i gyd i fynd yno hefyd er mwyn drachtio’r awyrgylch anhraethadwy o sbeisiog. Mae’r lle ar gyrion y dref i lawr llwybr gefn rhwng mynwent fechan Teml y Gogoniant Cuddiedig (ac yno mae pencampwr dartiau o’r oes a fu o’r enw Lleu’n gorwedd dan y gro) a maes parcio Tesbyro. Nid oes ddim arwydd y tu allan iddo, felly bydd rhaid ichi ddilyn eich trwyn. Mae yna rywbeth at ddant pawb, os hoffwch bryd o fwyd gwynias sy’n seiliedig ar ymborth Cymreig gyda llond bwced o berlysiau. Fe gewch chi werth eich arian, a hwyl, ar yr un pryd, heb os nac oni bai. Gair i gall (heddychwr ydwyf, felly ni bydd ffon i’r anghall) – yfwch wydreidiau o ddŵr a thafelli o lemon ynddynt yn unig (cwrw yn y bol, twrw yn y pen, wedi’r cwbl!); peidiwch â chanu wrth gwafftio’ch cyri; a, myn Kali, osgowch y tsilis crych fel y pla! I would encourage you all to go there too in order to imbibe the indescribable spicy atmosphere. The place is on the outskirts of the town down a back alley between the small graveyard of the Temple of the Hidden Glory (and there under the gravel lies the champion darts-player from a former age named Lleu) and Tesbyro. There’s no sign outside it, so you’ll have to use your nose. There’s something there to everyone’s taste, if you like a red-hot meal which is based on Welsh foodstuffs with a bucketful of herbs. You’ll get your money’s worth, and have fun, at the same time, without a doubt. A word to the wise (I’m a pacifist, so there’s no stick for the unwise) – drink only glasses of water with slices of lemon in (beer in the belly, tumult in the head, after all!); don’t sing whilst quaffing your curry, and, by Kali, avoid the wrinkled chillis like the plague!

Pennod Tri: Mae Ffred yn Mynd i Siopa / Ffred Goes Shopping

Ffrindiau, Ddaearolion, Gyd Ddewiniaid! Ffred sy ma ‘to. Beth am hyn? Rwy wedi bod yn mynychu sesiynau ar Gyfathrebu Swynol yn Neuadd y Cymrodyr yng nghanol dre Pyrthyfall yn ddiweddar. Nes i sefyll yr arholiad ar ben y cwrs ac roedd rhaid i ni siarad yn rhugl yn Hen Iaith y Nw Yrth am bynciau fel alcemeg ddamcaniaethol, astroleg wyddonol, rhifoleg gymwysedig, ac yn y blaen. Nes i lawer o waith wrth baratoi, gan gynnwys sgrifennu sgriptiau o’r blaen llaw a’u dysgu nhw i gyd ar go’. Felly teg dweud ‘dwn i’m llawer am y fath bethau. Dw i’m yn gallu dweud wrthoch chi be’n enwedig ddigwyddodd, na chrybwyll gair o’r hyn a adroddais ar y dydd, achos fod e’n gyfrinachol iawn. Ond rwy’n gallu dweud i fi fwynhau’r rhan hon o’r arholiad yn fawr iawn, ac i fi lwyddo, diolch byth, er bod hi’n cael a chael ar adegau! Felly yn lle malu awyr wrth sôn am ‘ny, rwy wedi penderfynu bod yn ysgafngalon am newid a mynegi’n llais doniol i drwy rannu ychydig fanylion gyda chi am ‘y nghefndir a ‘mywyd hyd yn hyn.

Friends, Earthlings, Fellow Wizards! What about this? I’ve been attending sessions on Beguiling Communication in Comrades’ Hall in Hellsgate town centre recently. I sat the exam at the end of the course, and we needed to speak fluently in the Old Language of the Nw Yrth about topics such as theoretical alchemy, scientific astrology, contemporary numerology, and so on. I did lots of work preparing, including writing scripts beforehand and learning them off by heart. So, it’s fair to say that I don’t know a lot about such things. I can’t tell you exactly what happened, nor mention a word of what I recited on the day, as it’s highly confidential. But I can say I enjoyed that part of the exam very much, and I passed, thank goodness, although it was touch and go in places. So instead of going on about that, I’ve decided to be light-hearted for a change and express my comedic voice by sharing some details with you about my background and my life up to now.

Wi’n dysgu Cymraeg ers achau erbyn hyn ch’mod, wastad yn dysgu falle. Wi’n dod o'r Canolbarth yn wreiddiol wrth gwrs, ar bwys pwynt canolog ein gwlad fechan ond hudol ni, yn ôl yr Arolwg Ordnans. Es i i weithio yn rhywle arall yn y pen draw (sa i’n gallu dweud ble, mae’n breifat) fel gwyddonydd. Achan arbennig dw i, ch’wel (fel dywed y nhad), ac o’n i’n arfer neud arbrofion cyn i fi gael tipyn bach o drafferth gyda’r swydd. Wedyn, des i adre i Gymru heulog flynyddoedd yn ôl pan gaeth cydweithiwr ddamwain yn y gweithle, ond ddim fi oedd ar fai, nac achosais i mo’r problemau chwaith. Peth o ddewin yn y labordy gemeg dw i, fe ddweda i wrthoch chi. I’ve been learning Welsh for ages now you know, always learning, perhaps. I come from the Midlands originally of course, near the centre-point of our small but magical land, according to the Ordnance Survey. I went to work somewhere else in the end (I can’t say where, it’s private) as a scientist. I’m a special boy you see (as my dad says), and I used to do experiments till I had a bit of trouble with the job. Then I came back to sunny Wales years ago when a co-worker had an accident in the workplace, but I wasn’t to blame, and I didn’t cause the problem either. I’m a bit of a wizard in the chemistry laboratory, I’ll tell you. O’n i’n ceisio creu “elicsir ieuenctid,” w (wel, hufen harddu ar gyfer plorod a rhychau). Do’n i'n hunan ddim yn cael problem gyda’r dasg, ond oedd yr holl beth yn ofnadw, a dweud y gwir, pan ddes i â nghath ddu lwcus i mewn i’r lab a bwytaodd hi’r stwff yn lle i “Byrbrydau Titw” arferol. Bu bron iddi fynd yn anweladwy, fel ysbryd yn y tarth, mewn ffordd. Gaeth y Doethur da o’r enw Rhisiart Rhuddygl (a chemegydd anghyffredin ydy e hefyd) sioc aruthrol pan glywodd e sŵn rhywbeth na allai fe weld yn canu grwndi ar i ddesg, a thaflodd e i ddysglaid o de mate oer drosti. O, aeth y greadures fach yn wirion bost a neidio i’r pot o gemegion gan oernadu fel cyhyraeth. Aeth yr hylif seimllyd ym mhob man, ymlithrodd Rhisiart, a chwympo ar y nyfyn-ysbryd annwyl, gan regi bob yn ail air fel cwrcyn. I was trying to create an “elixir of youth,” mun (well, beauty cream for spots and wrinkles). I myself didn’t have a problem with the task, but the whole thing was awful, to tell the truth, when I brought my lucky black cat into the lab and she ate all the stuff instead of her usual “Kitty Snacks.” She almost went invisible, like a ghost in the mist, in a way. The good Doctor named Richard Radish (who’s an extraordinarily good chemist, too) had a terrible shock when he heard the sound of something unseen purring on his desk, and threw his cup of cold maté tea over her. O, the little creature went bonkers and jumped into the pot of chemicals wailing like a banshee. The slimy liquid went everywhere, Richard slipped, and fell on my dear familiar spirit, swearing like a tom-cat and turning the air blue. Sa i eisiau sgwrsio amdani, os wi’n hollol onest, mae'n ddigon i hala rhwng tramp a'i gwdyn. Ymhellach, sa i’n gallu siarad amdani, gan fod gorchymyn y llys yn fy ngwahardd i. Digon yw dweud i’r gath oedd wedi’i hanafu ar hap ailfagu blas at fwyd bellach, ond mae Dr Prisiart yn dal i aros oddi ar waith (fe ddwedwn i taw mitiso bant mae e) er i’w asennau ysig wella’n foddhaol o’r diwedd. Ar ôl hynny oedd raid i fi weithio mewn ysgol fel rhan o’r gwasanaeth cymuned, ond oedd yn rhy anodd a ges i broblem enfawr un dydd Sadwrn wedi bwyta cyri eithriadol o boeth y noson gynt (Jiw, wi’n dwlu ar gyri mawlod sbeislyd), ond stori arall yw hynny. I don’t want to chat on about it, if I’m totally honest; it’s enough to upset anyone. And more than that, I can’t talk about it, because the court order prevents me. It’s enough to say that the cat that was injured by accident has got her appetite back now, but Dr Prichard is still staying off work (I’d say that he’s mitching off), although his broken ribs healed satisfactorily in the end. After that, I had to work in a school as part of the community service, but it was too hard and I had an enormous problem one Saturday having eaten an exceptionally hot curry the night before (gosh, I love spicy snail curry), but that’s another story. Ta be, wi’n byw gartre erbyn hyn ar fy mhen fy hunan yn nhŷ mawr ym Mrynfelin, gyda’n lojar (neu’n “lletywraig” a bod yn posh ac yn fanwl gywir ar yr un pryd) o’r enw Enwen. Mae’n ddiddorol iawn, mae’r enw’n golygu rhywbeth fel y llaeth lled sur sy’n aros yn y fuddai wedi corddi’r ymenyn. Menyw hyfryd yw hi, a’i chroen fel menyn. Wi’n teimlo fel sen i wedi nabod hi ar hyd yn oes, ch’wel. Sdim raid dweud mod i’n gorfod helpu Enwen yn y tŷ, wrth gwrs. So hi’n gofyn i fi neud llawer, achos bod hi’n datgan mod i’n “dderyn,” beth bynnag mae hynny’n olygu. Ond wedyn fe fydd hi’n dweud bod “adar o'r un lliw hedant i'r un lle,” felly bydd popeth yn iawn tra arhosa hi yma yn yn nyth cysurus, sbo. Anyway, I’m living at home now on my own in a big house in Brynfelin, with my lodger (or my “lettinglady” to be posh and totally accurate at the same time) called Enwen. It’s very interesting, the name means something like the rather sour milk that remains in the churn when you’ve churned the butter. She’s a lovely lady, and her skin’s like butter. I feel like I’ve known her all my life. Needless to say I have to help Enwen in the house, of course. She doesn’t ask me to do lots, because she declares that I’m a bit of a “bird,” whatever that means. But then she says that “birds of a feather flock together,” so everything’ll be OK while we stay here in our comfy nest, I s’pose. Fe fydd hi’n gweiddi arna i dim ond os bachgen dwl fydda i. Hmm, drwy’r amser, te, mae hi’n fishi iawn! Naeth hi weiddi’r dydd o’r blaen pan gollais i’r crwban, a daethon ni o hyd iddo fe yn y peiriant golchi llestri sy’m yn gweithio slawer dydd. Diar, diar, oedd yn ddoniol ac yn drist ar yr un pryd, gan fod e’n trio gaeafgysgu. Oedd e’n lliw chwith erbyn ny, ac mae dal i fod yn wyrdd, er i fi drio beintio fe, ond naeth hynna mo'r tro, sa i’n gwybod pam. Sut bynnag, yn ôl i’r brif stori. Ambell waith, fe fydd angen i fi siopa. O, nefi bliw! She only shouts at me when I’m a silly boy. Hmm, all the time, then, she’s very busy! She shouted at me the other day when I lost the tortoise, and we found him in the dishwasher which hasn’t worked for a long time. Dear, dear, it was funny and sad at the same time, because he was trying to hibernate. He was a funny colour by then and he’s still green, although I tried to paint him, but that didn’t do the trick, I don’t know why. Anyway, back to the main story. Sometimes, I need to go shopping. O, Lordy! Sa i’n lico siopa o gwbl. Yn wir, wi’n casáu siopa. Wi’n meddwl bod hyn achos bod yn mam yn arfer mynd â fi o gwmpas y ddinas pan o’n i’n ddim o beth. Bob dydd, mae’n debyg, fe fydden ni’n mynd i gannoedd ar gannoedd o siopau. Fe fyddwn i wedi mwynhau chwarae yn y parc sen i wedi gallu. O’n i mor ddiflas â’r peth mwya diflas yn y byd crwn cyfan, credwch chi fi. Oedd yn boeth, ac yn rhy swnllyd yn y siopau, ac oedd gormod o bobl a dim digon o le i symud. O’n i’n ddiawl bach ewn oedd yn sgrechain a llefain, a thrio rhedeg bant. Ww, wi’n teimlo fel ny eto, o bryd i'w gilydd, ond wi di dysgu bod raid i chi wynebu'r canlyniadau pryd bynnag yr â pethau o chwith. A wnelir liw nos a welir liw dydd, meddai y nhad, ac oedd e yn llygad i le yn i farn. I don’t like shopping at all. In fact, I hate shopping. I think that this is because my mum used to take me around the city when I was knee-high to a grasshopper. Every day, it seems, we’d go to hundreds and hundreds of shops. I’d have liked to play in the park if I could have. I was as bored as the most bored thing in the entire world, believe you me. It was hot, and too noisy in the shops, and there were too many people and not enough room to move. I was a cheeky little devil who screamed and cried and tried to run off. Oooh, I still feel like that, from time to time, but I’ve learned that you have to face the music whenever things go wrong. Whatever’s done by night is seen by day, said my dad, and he was quite right. Unwaith, nes i ddianc, pan doedd mam ddim yn edrych, ac es i yn y lifft, lle nes i wthio i bob botwm. Aeth y lifft yn sownd, ac oedd angen arna i gael yn achub gan ddyn tân. Gŵr mawr cryf oedd e, ac yn gwisgo lifrai hyfryd. Oni bai amdano fe, fe fyddwn i yno o hyd. Wedi ny, oedd raid i fi gael y nghlymu yn dynn i fam gan gordyn, rhag ofn i fi ddianc unwaith to! A hefyd, wi’n dwlu ar ddiffoddwyr tân byth oddi ar hynny. Ac edrychwch arna i nawr, wedi tyfu lan yn ddyn tal, dewr. Falle galla i fod yn ddyn tân ryw ddydd fuan – daw'r dywediad ‘Daw dydd y bydd mawr y rhai bychain” i gof, wi’n meddwl. Fe fydda i’n codi llaw ar bob injan dân bob tro y gwela i un ohonyn nhw’n rhuthro lawr yn stryd ni a’i chorn yn canu’n uchel pan fydda i wedi rhoi’r tŷ ar dân. Once, I escaped, when mum wasn’t looking, and I went in the lift, where I pressed every button. The lift got stuck, and I needed to be rescued by a fireman. He was a big strong man, wearing a lovely uniform. If it wasn’t for him, I would still be there. After that I had to be attached tightly to mum by a cord, in case I escaped again! And also, I’ve loved firefighters ever since then. And look at me now that I’ve grown up into a tall brave man. Perhaps I can be a fireman someday soon – the saying “The day is coming when the little ones will be on top” comes to mind, I think. I wave at every fire engine every time one of them rushes down our street with its siren blaring loudly when I set the house on fire. Felly, y nghas beth yw siopa, hyd yn oed nawr. Wel, ta beth, wi mewn oed nawr, siŵr iawn, ac weithiau, rhaid i fi fynd i siopa, lico neu beidio. Rhaid i ddyn fwyta, meddan nhw. Bydda i’n trio cynllunio taith i’r siopau pan fydd hi’n dawel, os wi’n gallu, ddim ar fore dydd Sadwrn yn bendant (mae da fi gofion brawychus am ny, ac wi’n deffro o hunllef gan chwythu amdani nawr ac yn y man, ond dyna stori hollol wahanol!). Gwna i restr fanwl o’r holl bethau bydda i eisiau prynu, a gobeithio galla i ddod o hyd i bopeth mewn un siop fawr, mewn archfarchnad, mewn gwirionedd. So, my most hated thing is shopping, even now. Well, anyway, I’m grown up now, sure enough, and sometimes, I must go shopping, like it or not. A man must eat, they say. I try to plan the trip to the shops when it’s quiet, if I can, not on Saturday mornings, definitely (I’ve got terrifying memories about that, and I wake up from a nightmare sweating about it now and then. but that’s a totally different story). I make a detailed list of all the things I want to buy, and hope I can find everything in one big shop, in a supermarket, if truth be told. Tesbyro yw’r fan lleia drwg i siopa, a’i henw’n golygu “canu grwndi wrth i chi orwedd yng ngwres yr haul,” sa i’n deall pam. Ni waeth befo am ny. Wi’n lico archfarchnadoedd i ryw fesur, ch’wel, achos bod chi’n gallu chwarae gyda’r trolïau, gan sglefrio lan a lawr. Www, crwtyn mawr dw i to! Wel, unwaith yn ddyn, dwywaith yn blentyn yw’r ddihareb, ac wi’n cytuno’n llwyr. Ges i bryd o dafod gan dditectif y siop, unwaith neu ddwy, neu dair, a bod yn onest. Gorau po leia a ddywedir am ny te, ond oedd i lifrai’n ysblennydd. Serch ny, a i o gwmpas y lle uffernol yn yr un drefn bob tro, o'r naill ben i'r llall, cyn gynted â phosib! Ac fe fydda i’n cymryd arna i taw capel bychan ydy, ac yn llawn gwynt arogldarth a symbolau cyfrin. Tesbyro is the least bad place to shop, and its name means “purring while lying in the sun’s warmth,” I don’t understand why. Never mind about that. I like supermarkets to some extent, you see, as you can play with the trolleys, sliding up and down. Oooh, I’m still a big kid! Well, once a man, twice a child is the proverb, and I entirely agree. I had a telling off from the store detective once or twice, or three times, to be honest. Least said about that the better, but his uniform was resplendent. Despite that, I go around the hellish place in the same order every time, from one end to the other, as quickly as possible! And I pretend that it’s a little chapel, full of the aroma of incense and arcane symbols. Ac wedyn, mynd ati bydda i, wedi’r cwbl, chwery mab noeth, ni chwery mab newynog. Fe ddechreua i gyda ffrwythau a llysiau (madarch a tsilis yn enwedig), wedyn bara, menyn a llaeth, wedyn grawnfwyd, ar ôl ny bwyd mewn tun (heb anghofio saws cyri), a ffynonellau protein fel toffw, cynhyrchion soia, neu fwydydd mycoprotein megis “Quorn.” Fe gwpla i da photeli bychain o gwrw chwerw fel “Paun Gwirion” a bocs o siocledi i Enwen. Ceisia i ddewis bocs sy’n llawn dop o siocledi blasus fel melysion Twrci, am na fydd hi’n bwyta’r un o’r rheiny, felly, galla i’u llowcio nhw i gyd. Fe fyddwn i’n defnyddio’r ddesg dalu helpu'ch hunan pe gallwn i, ond y tro diwetha nes i ny, naeth y peth ffrwydro. Gorfu i ni i gyd symud mas o’r lle tra oedd y dyn tân yn ymchwilio unwaith to – dyw rhai pethau byth yn newid, ydyn nhw? And then I go for it, after all, a naked boy plays but a hungry one doesn’t. I’ll begin with fruit and veg (mushrooms and chillis in particular), then bread, butter, and milk, then cereal, after that tinned food (not forgetting curry sauce), and sources of protein like tofu, soya products, or mycoprotein foods like “Quorn.” I finish with little bottles of bitter beer like “Mad Peacock” and a box of chocolates for Enwen. I try to choose a box that’s fill of tasty chocs like Turkish Delight, because she won’t eat a single one of those, so I can guzzle them all. I would use the self-service check-out desk if I could, but the last time I did that, the thing exploded. We all had to get out of the place while the fireman was investigating again – some things never change, do they? Ta p’un i, dewisa i’r ciw byrrach, a gwena i ar y cynorthwywyr gwerthu’r un modd bob tro. Fe fyddan nhw’n gwisgo lifreion cywrain, yn y marn i, ond bydd rhai ohonyn nhw’n ddisgyblion chweched dosbarth sy’n cael plorod, trueiniaid bach. Fi sy biau rysáit a allai helpu gyda ny, o’n i’n gweithio arni pan ddaeth yn oes waith ffurfiol i ben ac wi’n deall tipyn bach am fyfyrwyr hefyd wedi gweithio am fis yn yr ysgol gythreulig na. Fe ddwedon nhw wrtha i i bod hi ar agor ar ddydd Sadwrn, ac wedyn, nes i ruthro i mewn ar ôl noson gyri. O dyna resyn o beth, ond gad dy lap achan, fel na fydd rhagor o drafferth a helynt! Whatever, I choose the shortest queue, and I smile at the sales assistant in the same way every time. They wear fine uniforms, in my opinion, and some of them are sixth-form pupils who’ve got spots, poor things. I’ve got a recipe that could help with that, I was working on it when my formal working life ended, and I understand a bit about students too having worked for a month in that infernal school. They told me it opened on Saturdays and then I rushed in after a curry-night. O there’s a shame, but button your lip, lad, so that there’ll be no more upset and anguish! Licwn i’m gweithio yno (yn yr archfarchnad wrth bob rheswm) ond eto i gyd so fe’n bosib. Sa i’n ddigon clyfar gyda phobl, yn anffodus. Mae’n well da fi gathod na bodau dynol, sdim ots da fi, ond menyw reit sbesial yw Enwen. Felly, dyna sut wi’n mynd i siopa nawr heb ormod o broblem ac o ganlyniad wi wrth yn modd ac mor llawen â'r gog. Ond ar y llaw arall wi’n drist iawn achos mod i ddim wedi gyrru injan dân to – dim ond troli! Gan bwyll gowboi! Www, neno'r daioni, on’d yw'r amser yn mynd heibio'n gyflym! Falle byddwn ni’n sgwrsio cyn bo hir, mae na lawer o straeon eraill da fi. O gyda llaw, o ddifri, ddim yr un anifail gaeth i nafu wrth helpu gyda’r stori ma. Peidiwch â bod yn ddieithr da chi! Pob hwyl am y tro! Ffred. I wouldn’t like to work there (in the supermarket, to be sure) but then again it’s not possible. I’m not clever enough with people, unfortunately. I prefer cats over people, doesn’t bother me, but Enwen’s a real special woman. So, that’s how I go shopping now without too much of a problem, and as a result I’m delighted and as happy as a sandboy. But on the other hand I’m very sad because I haven’t driven a fire engine yet – only a trolley! Steady on cowboy! Ooooh, Good Heavens, doesn’t time fly! Perhaps we can chat again before long, I’ve got lots of other stories. O by the way, seriously, not a single animal was hurt helping with this story. Don’t be a stranger, will you? Cheers for the mo! Ffed.

Pennod Pedwar: Dan y Pinwydd / Under the Pines

Henffych well, fy nghymrodyr ar daith ddarganfod bodolaeth! Dyma’r hen Ffed yn traethu unwaith to. Www, wi newydd ddarllen stori gan M Morgan o’r enw “Y Seiffr” yn ei lyfr “Kate Roberts a’r Ystlum (a dirgelion eraill)” (Y Lolfa, 2012). Mae’n ardderchog a llawn rhyfeddodau’ n wir! Nawr te, mae dirgelwch da fi hefyd, credwch neu beidio! Fel y gwyddoch rhai ohonoch chi, mae capel lleia’r byd yng Nghwm-ran ar bwys lle wi’n dod yn wreiddiol, o’r enw Teml y Gogoniant Cuddiedig. Maen nhw’n chwedleua i’r hen Lleu aros yma wedi’i frifo’n wael yn yr hen amser gynt. Wel, dyma newyddion cyffrous; fe wnaethon nhw ddarganfod llawysgrifau hynafol mewn jariau gwin af ffurf llestri pridd, ryw ddeunaw mlynedd yn ôl. Ar droad y ganrif, a throad y milflwyddiant ar ben hynny, ar ddechrau Oes y Dyfrwr yn ôl y nghyfrifon i. Beth oedd y fath bethau’n neud mewn capel dwn i’m (y jariau win, ch’mod — mae capeli’n llawn o ddogfennau annealladwy wrth gwrs).

Salutations, my comrades on existence’s journey of discovery! Here’s old Ffred holding forth once again. Oooh, I’ve just read a story by M Morgan called “The Cypher” in his book “Kate Roberts a’r Ystlum (a dirgelion eraill)” (Y Lolfa, 2012). It’s excellent and full of wonders indeed! Now then, I have a mystery too, believe it or not! As some of you will know, the smallest chapel in the world’s in Cwm-ran near where I come from originally. They spin the tale that old Lleu stayed there, terribly injured in days of yore. Well, here’s the exciting news: they discovered ancient manuscripts in earthenware wine-jars, about eighteen years ago. At the turn of the century, and turn of the millennium to boot, at the beginning of the Age of Aquarius according to my calculations. What such things were doing in a chapel I don’t know (the wine-jars, you know — chapels are full of incomprehensible documents of course).

Tyb pawb eraill oedd eu bod nhw’n ddynwarediad modern gan chwaraewyr casetiau. Doedd neb yn gallu’u darllen nhw. Mae’r llawysgrifen yn wael, fel sgriblan morgrug sy di bwyta asid (ond nage asid fformig, maen nhw’n llawn o hwnnw), ac mae’r holl beth yn edrych fel creon ar bapur menyn, llawn lluniau bach, symbolau o liw gwaed, a sgrifen o chwith, siŵr o fod. Wi di bod wrthi hi’n dysgu am bethau fel gwyddorau ac arwyddluniau, ac ieithoedd marw fel Mesmes o Ethiopia, a Nyawaygi o Awstralia, a Pataxó Hã-Ha-Hãe o Frasil. Wi di bod yn breuddwydio am gyfieithu rhywbeth o bwys, ond “nid datod cwlwm yw ei dorri” meddan nhw, beth bynnag mae hynny’n ei olygu. Felly yn hytrach na gweithio ar y llawysgrifau’u hunain, wi di bod yn aros am ysbrydoliaeth sydyn, ac wi o fewn ychydig i lwyddo. Hei, dyna ddysgu gydol oes i chi, on’d ife? Ond digon am yn hobïau i, dyma fraslun o’r gwaith mawr hyd yn hyn. Wi’n meddwl am “Dan y Pinwydd” fel y teitl, achos taw “Wil Kineythien aí” oedd e’n wreiddiol, sy’n golygu’r un peth…

Everybody else’s opinion was that they were modern counterfeits by pranksters. No-one could read them. The handwriting’s awful, like the scribbling of ants that have eaten acid (but not formic acid, they’re full of that), and the whole thing looks like crayon on grease-proof paper, full of little pictures, blood-coloured symbols, and mirror-writing, probably. I’ve gone at it to learn about things like alphabets and hieroglyphs, and dead languages like Mesmes from Ethiopia, and Nyawaygi from Australia, and Pataxó Hã-Ha-Hãe from Brazil. I’ve been dreaming about translating something important, but “you don’t undo a knot by cutting it” as they say, whatever that means. So rather than working on the manuscripts themselves, I’ve been waiting for a flash of inspiration, and I’m near as damn it to succeeding. Hey that’s lifelong learning for you, isn’t it? But enough about my hobbies, here’s a sketch of the great work up to now. I’m thinking of “Under the Pines” as the title, because it was “Wil Kineythien aí” originally, which means the same thing…

F'annwylaf Mêts! Fe fyddwn i’n fodlon ond i chi dreulio’r mymryn lleiaf o amser yn ‘y nghwmni i. Dim ond awr ro’n i’n gofyn i chi i’w threulio gyda fi. Ond ar ‘y mhen ‘yn hunan ydw i, yn sgwrsio â gwyntoedd cyfnewidiad, creulon a main, wrth i fi sgriblan yr epistol ‘ma ar frys. Felly ai llythyr neu ymson yw hyn? Dyw hi ddim o bwys. Mae’n teimlo fel rwy eisoes yma ers pedwar deg dydd a deugain noson. Rwy mor sychedig, ac yn ystyried difetha ‘y mywyd drwy neidio oddi ar y mynydd. My dearest Mates! I’d be content if only you passed the least bit of time in my company. Only an hour I asked you to spend with me. But I’m on my own, talking with the winds of change, cruel and biting, whilst I hurriedly scribble this epistle. So, is it a letter or a monologue? It’s not important. It feels like I’ve already been here for forty days and forty nights. I’m so thirsty, and considering ending my life by jumping off the mountain. Fe fedrwn i fod yn geiliog yn clochdar ar yr haul, 'tae waeth am ‘ny, fyddwn i’m yn eich effro chi. Felly, bydda i’n hala’r neges ‘ma i’r gymrodoriaeth yn bell oddi yma yng Nghwm-ran, lle taw pawb yn y gymuned sydd â breintiau a chyfrifoldebau cyfartal. Mae ‘da fi gymrawd yno, Mair-Elen ydy’i henw hi, a dylai’r sgrôl ‘ma fod yn ddiogel, er taw tipyn bach o gwlt meudwyaidd ydy’r rhain, sy’n eithriadol o dduwiol. I could be a cock crowing at the sun, for that matter, I wouldn’t wake you. So, I’ll send this message to the commune far away from here, in Cwm-ran, where everyone in the commune has rights and corresponding privileges. I have a comrade there, Mary-Ellen’s her name, and this scroll should be safe, although that lot, who’re exceptionally devout, are a bit of a secretive cult. Gyda llaw, byddwch â llygad ar eich ysgwydd am ŵr o'r llysenw 'Cythraul Grymus'. Dydych chi’m yn ei nabod e erbyn hyn, ond ges i hyd iddo fe ar daith hir, pan ‘naeth e gwympo oddi ar ei feic modur, a dyrnu ei ben yn erbyn y creigiau. Dyna lanc galluog iawn. Mae’n llawn i’r ymyl â syniadau chwyldroadol, ac rwy’n credu bydd yn helpu chi i roddi’r gair mas. Gobeithio na fydd hwnnw ddim yn fwy na llond ei Doc Martens yn y dyfodol. Amser a ddengys. By the way, keep your eyes skinned for a bloke nicknamed 'Balrog'. You don’t know him now, but I found him on a long journey, when he fell off his motorbike, and hit his head on the rocks. There’s a really gifted lad. He’s stuffed full of revolutionary ideas, and I believe he’ll help you to spread the word. I do hope he won’t be too big for his Doc Martens in the future. Time will tell. Mewn gwirionedd, rwy wedi blino’n lân. Wedi’r cwbl, rhwng yr holl deithio, a’r siarad cyhoeddus, dwi ‘di bod yn gweithio fel yr Andros. Rhaid i fi gael uffern o noson dda o orffwys. Roedd difyrru’r miloedd mor anodd â thynnu gwaed o garreg heb sôn am y trefi lle ro’n nhw eisiau i ni roi cwrw a fodca iddyn nhw yn lle poteli o ddŵr. ‘Rarglwydd! Man a man a mynci melyn i fi fwydo'r miloedd o bobl ar yr ŵyl rydd y penwythnos 'na. Ecstasi ro'n nhw'i eisiau, ond yn well ha hynny, miwsig gorawenus a dawnsio gwyllt a gaethon nhw drwy gydol y nos! Nage trechaf yw treisied; dim ond hyn ro’n i eisiau ei ddweud; ac y dylen nhw rannu’r cariad yn deg, hefyd, er mwyn ‘neud y ddaear gron yn fan well i fyw ynddi. In truth, I’m knackered. After all, what with all the travelling, and the public speaking, I’ve been working like the Devil. I have to get one hell of a good night’s rest. Entertaining the masses was as hard as getting blood from a stone not to mention the towns where they wanted us to give them beer and vodka instead of bottles of water. Good Lord! I might as well have fed the thousands of people at the free festival that weekend. Ecstasy they wanted, but better than that, bangin' music and mental dancing was what they got, all night long! Might isn’t right, that’s all I wanted to say; and that they should share the love freely, too, to make the whole world a better place to live in. Ar y llaw arall, mewn mannau eraill, ro’n nhw’n llyncu ‘y ngeiriau. Serch ‘ny, dwi’m yn gallu deall pam bues i’n gorfod mynd i mewn i’r ddinas ar gefn ceffyl gwyn (f (fel petai, fan wen yn llawn o offer sain a goleuo oedd hi, reit?), wrth iddyn nhw daflu canghennau coed pinwydd ar yr heol o ‘mlaen i. Pe celwn i fantell borffor, a choron, a theyrnwialen, byddwn wedi ymddangos yn ymherodr, yn frenin neu artist rap rhwysgfawr, neu focsiwr yn dod i mewn i'r ring. Ond allwn i'm peidio meddwl taw wrth i rhai ohonyn nhw ysgubo'r fordd, rhai eraill oedd yn paratoi coelcerth angladdol fel nâi'r Cenhedloedd Duon. Ac wedyn, roedd y trefnwyr fysslyd i gyd yn pydru arni, gan dreio'n mwytho i, gan 'molchi i a'n sychu i â lliain, ac wedyn oelio 'nghorff i cyn chwistrellu afftyrsief drewllyd ym mhobman. Ro'n i'n dychmygu'r hen ddydiau yn yr Anialdir Coch neu rywbeth. Roedd fel 'swn i ‘di marw, a bydden nhw’n ‘mharatoi i cyn i fi gael ‘y nghladdu. A dyna oedd pawb yn gweiddi “Ti yw'r gorau! Ein harwr! Duw wyt ti" pan ddes i mas ar y llwyfan cyn dechrau perfformio. Dyn ni i gyd yn feibion i fenywod, a merched i ddynion, pob un ohonyn nhw sydd yr un mor deilwng, on’d ife? Felly dyn a ŵyr beth ro’n nhw’n feddwl. On the other hand, in other places, they hung on my every word. Despite that, I can’t understand why I had to go into the city on the back of a white horse (as it were, it was a white van full of sound and lighting equipment, right?), while they threw pine branches on the street in front of me. If I’d had a purple cloak, and a crown, and a sceptre, I would have looked like an emperor, a king or a pompous rap artist, or a boxer entering the ring. But I couldn't help thinking that while some of them were sweeping the way, others were preparing a funeral pyre like the Vikings used to. And then, all the fussy organisers were beavering about, trying to pamper me, washing me down and drying me off, and oiling up my body, before spraying stinky aftershave everywhere. I was imagining the old days in the Red Desert or something. It was as if I’d died, and they were preparing me before I was buried. And there was everyone shouting out“You're the best! Our hero! You're a god!" when I came out in the stage before starting to perform. We’re all sons of women, and daughters of men, every one of who’s just as deserving, aren’t they? So goodness knows what they meant. Beth oedd yn bod? Rhyw arfer hynafol, siŵr o fod. Dylwn i fod wedi ‘neud sylw eiriau’r athrawon yn yr ysgol, ond hyd yn oed pan o’n i’n grwt neis-neis, rai blynyddoedd yn ôl, fe wn i’r Hen Lenyddiaeth yn well na nhw. ‘Nawn i byth wrando! Sut bynnag, nage tywysog y byd ‘ma ydw i’n bendant. Cwrddais i â phwysigyn seimlyd a arddelai’r anrhydedd hwnnw pan fues ar encil yn y diffeithdir. Creadur sy’n gyfan gwbl wahanol i unrhyw ddyn ydoedd, neidr gudd go iawn, ‘sdim dwywaith ynghylch ‘ny. Fe sebonodd fi ar ffurf offeiriad coch, gyda gweniaith y saith swynwr seraffaidd o’r llên gêl, ond yn ofer, a ‘nes i wrthsefyll gyda chymorth y delw-addolwyr dioglyd, a ddaeth i i roi help llaw i fi yn amser ‘y nhrallod. Gwell yr ellyll a wyddys na’r cythreuliaid nad adweinir, falle. What was the problem? Some ancient custom, probably I should’ve taken notice of the teachers' words in school, but even when I was a finicky kid, some years back, I knew the Ancient Literature better than them. I’d never listen! Anyhow, I’m definitely not prince of this world. I met some slimy bigwig who claimed that honour when I was on retreat in the desert. He was a creature totally different from any human being, a real snake in the grass, no two ways about it. He soft-soaped me in the form of a red priest, with the blandishments of the seven seraphic sorcerers of the hidden lore, but in vain, and I resisted with the help of the indolent idolaters, who came to my aid in my hour of need. Better the devil you know than the demons you don’t recognise, perhaps. A dyma ni i gyd, ar yr ystad ar droed Mynydd y Pinwydd, lle mae’r teirw dur yn huno dros nos. Ysgafnu’r baich yw ei rannu, yn wir, ond mae’n beth enbyd, on’d ydy, pan na fydd hyd yn oed ffrindiau gorau boi’n gallu cadw’n effro wrth iddo geisio datrys problemau’r byd. O leia’r peiriannau fyddai’n cadw sŵn dim ond ‘sen nhw’n gweithio. Chi sy’n rhochian fel moch wrth gysgu! Deirgwaith rwy wedi cerdded heibio i chi, y llanciau cefn gwlad hir eich cwsg, ond atebodd neb ddim gair. Mwya’r gresyn nad o’ch chi yma, ro’n i wedi gobeithio am well, ond tra ydy’r enaid yn fodlon, mae’r cnawd yn wael. And here we all are, on the estate at the foot of the Pine Mountain, where the bulldozers are sleeping overnight. A burden shared is a burden halved, to be true, but it’s an awful thing, isn’t it, when even a boy’s best friends can’t stay awake while he tries to solve the world’s problems. At least the machines would only be making a din if they were working. You lot are snorting like pigs while you sleep! Three times I’ve walked by you, you sleeping-beauty country lads, but no-one answered a word. A great pity that you weren’t here, I’d hoped for better, but while the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak. Rwy ‘di bod yn meddwl tybed beth i’w wneud nesaf, ac wedi dod i benderfyniad erbyn hyn. Ddim heddychwr di-asgwrn-cefn ydw i, y nefoedd wen, ond alla i’m cefnogi trais gwaedlyd chwaith. Gweddus a phleserus yw trengi tros eich mamwlad, ebe rhywun, rywbryd, ond dwi’n meddwl bod pentwr o hen sothach yw hyn. Rwy’n mynd i gwrdd â’r awdurdodau yn hwyrach heno, a gobeithio nad taflu ‘y ngemau o flaen y moch a wna i. Na ddeffro’r ci sy’n cysgu, reit? Ond, gadwech i ni weld beth fydd yn digwydd. Mae’n well ‘da fi hynny na gorfod dadlau gyda’r gormeswyr, yr hen foch budr! Mae 'yn ffrind bore oes wedi trefnu popeth, ac mae’n falch ar y diawl ei hun. Fel ‘y nghysgod i ydy a dweud y gwir, ond mae’n lico chwarae rhan yr ysbïwr, ac fe ‘naiff unrhyw beth i roi’i llaw ar fudrelw. Dylai fe fod yma cyn hir. I’ve been thinking what to do next, and I’ve come to a decision now. I’m no spineless pacifist, heavens above, but I can’t support bloody violence either. It’s right and fitting to die for your homeland, someone said, sometime, but I think that that’s a pile of old rubbish. I’m going to meet the authorities later tonight, and I hope I shan’t be casting my pearls before swine. Don’t wake a sleeping dog, right? But, let’s see what happens. I’d prefer that that having to debate with the oppressors, the dirty old swine! My lifelong buddy has arranged everything, and he’s pleased as Punch himself. He’s like my shadow, to tell the truth, but he likes to play the spy, and he’ll do anything to get his hands on filthy lucre. He should be here before long. Ac eto i gyd, fe ddaw’r gofid pennaf pan wy’n gofyn i’m hun: ydw i’n wrthryfelgar heb glem, wedi’r cyfan? Ni dda gen i ‘mo’r crefyddau cyfundrefnol, na’n hun ni, na’r rhai sy’n perthyn i’r bobl ddieithr. Allwn i’m rhwystro ‘yn hun rhag rhoi cyfrif da ohono ‘yn hunan pan ‘naethon nhw ddechrau gwerthu yn Nheml y Gogoniant Cuddiedig fel petai’n ddim mwy na'r farchnadfa yn y Ddinas Fawr, Ddrwg. (Ac yno mae ystrywiau’r swynwyr yn hud-ddenu meddwl y boblogaeth gyda bara a chwaraeon, fel y maen nhw’n dilyn y llwybr briallog i’r Fall.) Fe’u gorfodwyd i godi weiren bigog er mwyn ‘y nghadw oddi ar y to, gan esgus iddyn nhw ddymuno dychryn y brain pygddu ymaith. O sut byddai’r waliau’n wylo pe gwyddent beth oedd yn digwydd. And then again, the chief trouble comes when I ask myself: am I a rebel without a clue, after all? I don’t care for organised religions, neither our own, nor those that belong to foreigners. I couldn’t stop myself from giving a good account of myself when they started selling bric-a-brac in the Temple of the Hidden Glory as if it were no more than than the marketplace in the Big, Bad City. (And there the sorcerers’ whiles beguile the mind of the populace with bread and circuses, so that they follow the primrose path to Perdition.) They were forced to put up barbed wire to keep me off the roof, pretending they wanted to scare off the ravens. Oh, how would the walls wail if they knew what was happening. Edrychwch, dyma ‘y ngolwg ar y byd, yn blwmp ac yn blaen. Mae’r Dysgeidiaethau’n dweud taw duwiau ydych chi i gyd. Sut felly? Rhaid i chi gadarnhau taw cariad yw Ffynhonnell Popeth. A beth, wedyn, yw cariad? Ddim rhyw endid haniaethol, na chysgod wedi’i ddyfeisio gan yr athronwyr o Roeg ‘mo fe. Yn hytrach, cyflwr meddwl ydy, pan fyddwch yn barod i roi’ch bywyd er mwyn bodau eraill gyda’r parodrwydd mwyaf. Ar y Ddaear daw teyrnas cariad, y Nw Yrth hwn, yn gynt nag y dychmygwch. Look, here’s my view of the world, straight up. The Teachings say that you lot are all Gods. How so? You have to stress that love is the Source of Everything. And what, then, is love? It’s not some abstract entity, nor a phantom made up by the Greek philosophers. Rather, it’s a state of mind, when you are prepared to give your life for the sake of other beings, with the greatest of readiness. On the Earth shall come the kingdom of love, this Nw Yrth, sooner that you imagine. Nage breuddwyd ryw hen hipi ‘mo fe ‘mo fe, na gwlad byth bythoedd, na lle gwacsaw, na gwlad hud a lledrith. Mae’n fangre sy’n cynnig realiti yn y fan a’r lle, ac sy’n ein rhyddhau ni o ddelweddau chwant a’n haflonyddai ni fel arall mewn tir diffaith dyfodol heb obaith. Bydd cyrraedd yno’n dalcen caled a alwa am hunanddisgyblaeth a phenderfyniad. Fi sy’n dangos y ffordd; fi sy’n agor y borth; ond sa i’n gallu gorfodi pobl i fynd drwyddo. Dim ond eisiau dangos i chi sut i rannu’r cariad dw i. Dyna sut rydyn ni’n mynd yn nes at y Ffynhonnell, ac at ein gilydd, wel yn ‘y nhyb i, petawn i’n marw, â’m llaw ar ‘y nghalon. It’s not the dream of some old hippy, nor a never-never land, nor a trifling place, nor a land of enchantment. It’s a location that offers reality right then and there, and which frees us from the images of want that would vex us in a hopeless future wasteland. It’ll be hard work getting there, which calls for self-discipline and determination. It’s me who shows the way, I who open the gate, but I can’t force people to go through. I only want to show you how to share the love. That's how we get closer to the Source, and to each other, well, in my opinion, upon my word, and hand on heart. A phawb sy'n caru yn gallu dod i mewn. A byddwn nhw’n ‘neud hyn drwy gerdded yn ôl ‘y nhraed i, ymdrechu ymdrech deg, a siarad â’u calonnau dan glywed hefyd. Felly, na farnwch fel y rhai sy wedi'u hanafu'n wael, sy’n cynnig dim ond afal derw a finegr i’w hyfed, a pheidiwch dadansoddi pethau ormod. Carwch, carwch o waelod eich calon, achos bod cariad bob amser yn amddiffyn, wastad yn credu, o hyd yn gobeithio, bob adeg yn dal ati. Pan ddaw’r deyrnas, bydd bustl y moroedd yn corddi, a hollta cnawd y ddaear, a’r lien sy’n ein cuddio ni rhag cyfrinachau'r Deml a rwygir i lawr. And everyone who loves can come in. And they’ll do t