Hir i lawio drosom ni

Hir i lawio drosom ni ~ Long to rain over us

“If you don't drag out into the light the presuppositions of your thinking you remain simply the prisoner of whatever the reigning orthodoxy in the matter at issue happens to be. Thus the model of your age, or the model of your day, becomes your cage.”
― Bryan Magee

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Roedd diwrnod glawog heddiw, nid math o ddiwrnod i fynd allan os gallech chi ei osgoi. Neu oni bai roeddech chi frenin i chwilio am het ysblennydd.  Treulion ni ein hamser ar faterion mwy domestig, gwnes i dorth o fara a gwnaeth Nor'dzin cacen. Feindiodd Nor'dzin amser i fynd allan i'r hen goeden afal. Mae hi'n cadarnhau, yn anffodus, mae'n farw. Mae'r goeden yn farw, hir fyw'r goeden.

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Today was a rainy day, not a day to go out if you could avoid it. Or unless you were a king in search of a spectacular hat. We spent our time on more domestic matters, I made a loaf of bread and Nor'dzin made a cake. Nor'dzin found time to go out to the old apple tree. She confirms, unfortunately, he is dead. The tree is dead, long live the tree.

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Disgrifiad (Cymraeg): Mainc, dail a glaw
Description (English): Bench, leaf and rain