Deialog yn y Gymraeg

Dialogue in Welsh

Earlier drafts of ‘A Welsh Dawn’ contained far more Welsh. My original intention was that conversations which would have been in Welsh, should be in Welsh. This involved parallel translations back into English, which, in the end I was forced to admit, complicated the task of reading the book unacceptably.

I remain personally attached to the lost dialogue which was written in authentic 1950’s Dyffryn Nantlle ‘tafodiaeth’ (dialect).  I had two expert consultants to assist in this. Shán Thomas and Gwynedd O. Pierce whose work is too good to lose.

Below are some of the longer sections of dialogue with page references to where they fit in the final printed edition.

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Page 13

“ Chwara teg  Mair. Fedri  di ddim mynnu’i fod o’n siarad Cymraeg.” The headteacher, Mr Griffiths, looked  at Mair Owen over his cup of strong tea.

Pam lai? Ysgol Gymraeg ‘di hon”

“ Ond Sowthun ydi o – Mae ‘i Saesnag o’n wych ond mae’i dad yn poeni ‘neith o ddrysu drwy ddysgu Cymraeg iddo fo ag ynta’mor ifanc.”

“ Mi neith lês iddo fo.”

“ Mi neith siwr - ond tydi ‘i dad o ddim yn gweld hi fel ‘na. Mae o’n poeni neith safon ei Saesnag o waethygu.”

“ Wel dwi ddim yn bwriadu dysgu drw’r  Saesnag i siwtio un plentyn.”

It will do the other children good to learn more English as well”, he tried to persuade her. “They can’t get jobs in any office without being able to speak English.”

Mair was silent. She straightened her back and stared ahead as she did when feeling resentment.

“ Paid a phoeni, Mair. Neith y Gymraeg fyth diflannu mewn ardal Gymreigaidd fath â hon – Neith y capeli a’r eglwysi ‘neud yn siwr o hynny. Ella bod hi’n well i ni bwyllo tipyn”

 “Ildio ti’n feddwl”

Mr Griffiths sighed.

***
Page 22

 A voice sounded fom the heart of the furnace, “Fedra i ddim magu plant ar y pitw o gyflog ‘ w’ti’n  roi i mi.”  

He gathered himself and raised his arms as if in surrender. “Cŵl ed!

She appeared at the door – a once good looking woman in a flowered dress.

“Cŵl ed? Hefo chdi fath a gŵr? Dwi di dwad i ben fy nhennyn yn trio rhoi bwyd ar y bwr’ ar dy gyflog pitw di – Maen nhw’n tyfu fyny rwan ac yn byta cimint a dynion”

“W’ ti’n cal digon o’nghyflog i’n barod!”  

“Dos o’ngolwg i’r hen gythral!”  The door shut with an expressive slam. 

The elderly Mrs Evans let the curtain drop hurriedly when she saw Tom look her way and shuffled off to the kitchen in the rear where her husband was studying the Caernarfon & Denbigh Herald.

“ Mae Twm a Phyllis wrthi eto. This time it looks as if she’s thrown him out for good!”

There was no sound from her partner

“Mae ‘na lot o bwysa ar Phyllis,wsti, dw i’n cyfadda. Ond mae Ifan yn mynd i’r iwnifersiti flwyddyn nesaf . Mi neith betha’n haws iddi hi”

Pause for response from her husband.

“Ella. That couldn’t get him into trouble!

“Ella wir  – Os ti’n gofyn i mi – ma petha ‘di bod yn wael ers diwedd y rhyfel.  Roedd y ddau fatha pobl ddiarth ar ôl iddo fo ddod adra. Tybed pa fath o dricia oedd o wrthi yn yr armi.”

 “Dim byd i gymharu hefo sud oedd hi’n bihafio hefo peilots tua Pwllheli,” thought Mr Evans but said nothing.

Twm was sitting in his green Austin A35, a very small car which looked comically smaller after he had crammed his bulk inside.

“Mai’n ffarwel i mi hefo’r hen wrach ‘na”   

***

Page 30

She walked with assumed nonchalance to the gate where Ifan waited. His greeting was not overly romantic.

“Lle ‘dach chi wedi bod mor hir? Wn i ddim be goblyn ma’r genod yn ‘neud yn y tŷ bach mor hir.” 

She replied in English, not because it was her natural language but because it was hip and, in the context of Penygroes School, as rebellious an act as eating chips from the paper whilst walking along the road and anyway Natalie Wood spoke English didn’t she?

Well thanks for the welcome. Where we going then? You’re the one who asked me, remember?”

“Chippy do you?”

“Have to wont it.”

Her coolness hid Gwen’s frantic heart beats. They walked and exchanged terse apparently indifferent phrases. He asked, “Pam goblyn w’t ti’n siarad Saesnag? Hogan Gymraeg w’t ti.”

“Oh sorri, my lordship!  I’ll speak whatever bloody language I like when I’m outside those gates.”

The “bloody” was very out of character for Gwen, but extreme measures were called for to match him today.

“Iawn,  Dwi isho siarad Cymraeg”

Gwen looked away feigning indifference. “Dim ots gen i.”   This was not a good start.

Twenty minutes later they were sitting on a bench in the park eating their chips with cool nonchalance.  

“Gwych”, said Ifan

“Gwych”, echoed Gwen in a low resonant tone that had taken a lot of practice.  She hurled her paper into the bin with a casual accuracy that betrayed her captaincy of the netball team.  She spoilt the intimation of rebelliousness by adding,

“ Well i ni fynd cyn bo hir. Dwi ddim isio bod yn hwyr.”  Neither, in truth, did Ifan.

“Iawn. Mi awn ni reit handi.” 

She looked at him with a certain amount of challenge.

W’t ti’n edrych ‘mlaen i adael ‘rysgol?”

“Wrth gwrs.”   Who could say anything else?  He looked into her blue eyes for the first time that lunch hour. “W’t ti ddim?”

“I fod yn hollol onest, nag-dw.”

“Pam? Mi fydd hi’n gyfle i gael ‘madael a’r iwnifform, a’r twps o athrawon, a rheola.”

“Wn i’im. Dw i’n licio rhai o’r titshars. Mae Mrs Llwyd yn iawn.   A mae’n sâff yma.”
“Rhy sâff ‘swn i’n deud.”

“Ella wir. Ond fydd bywyd ddim ’run peth o hyn ymlaen.” 

“W’t ti’n dal i fod isho nyrsio?”

“Ydw.”

“Lle, felly?”

“Dwi ‘di trio am le yn ‘sbyty Lerpwl, ond dwi’m yn siwr os ‘dwi isho mynd.  Be amdanat ti? Bangor?”
                                                    
“Ella! Mae’n dibynnu. Beth bynnag, ‘dw i’n edrach ‘mlaen i ddianc o’r twll yma”

A longish pause, full of electricity followed until Ifan ventured,

“F’aset ti’n licio dwad i’r pictiwrs fory?” 

Gwen’s heart leapt with a silent cry of triumph but she managed to look controlled and disinterested.

“Wn i’im. Pa ffilm sy’na?” Frankly it would have made no difference.

“Tommy Steel – The Duke wore Jeans?”

She made a few noises suggesting thought and tried to answer as unconcernedly as possible,

“Pam lai?”

***

Page 41

Beth Llwyd now had the young Ifan in her classroom in the act of promising, yet again, to swallow his pride and apologise to Mr Daniels for taking a short cut in the cross country run and being heard describing the school rugby team  as “gwartheg ond heb ‘u brêns.”

Iawn Ifan bach. Paid a’u hypsetio nhw am fis arall ac mi fyddi di allan o’r giatia ‘na  heb staen ar dy record di. Os ydi’r risylts yn debyg i’r gobeithion – mi fyddi yn yr iwnifersiti. W’t ti wedi trafod y matar adra?”

“Do.”

 “Ydyn nhw’n cefnogi’r syniad?”

“Ydyn ond….”  a long silent pause  “Dw i’m yn siwr eto.”

“Pam Ifan bach?”

“Pres yn un peth a’mrawd ar y llaw arall. Dwi’m iso’i adal o adra ar ‘i ben ‘i hun hefo’r chwerwder rhwng mam a dad.”

“Ond rwyt ti isio mynd?”

There was no hesitation “Wrth gwrs”, he said, staring disbelievingly back at her. 

“Ifan, cofia, y bydd pethau’n well i dy fam o safbwynt ariannol ar ôl i ti fynd - nid yn waeth!  Bydd dy fwyd yn dod o dy grant a bydd llai o bwysau ar gyllid teulu. Ynglŷn â dy frawd … Faint ‘di oed o?”

“Wyth”

“ Rargian! – Ma’ na dipyn o flynyddoedd rhyngddo chi.” 

Beth Llwyd nearly bit her tongue off regretting the comment immediately. There were places where it was better not to probe.

“Yn Ysgol Bryngwyn mae o? Hefo Mr Griffiths?”

“Ia”

“Mae o mewn dwylo saff felly. Be’ ma’ dy frawd yn feddwl o’r sefyllfa?” 

Tydi o ddim isio i mi fynd, ond mae o reit fodlon hefo’r sefyllfa. Os ca’ i le ym Mangor mi fydd hynny’n  ddigon agos i  ddod adra yn aml. Llai nag ugain milltir: awr ar y bys. Mae o’n licio ffwtbol a dw i wedi gaddo mynd â fo i weld Bangor yn chwara weithiau a hyn yn oed Lerpwl rywbryd.”

Beth Llwyd laughed, knowing Ifan’s antipathy to the sports staff.

“A thithau hefo dim diddordeb yn y gêm.”

“Does dim byd o’i le hefo ffwtbol. Holl agwedd ffascaidd yr adran sy’n g’neud i fi chwdu!”

“Taw Ifan.  Ond paid a siomi dy frawd bach - na neb arall.”

He looked up straight into her eyes, grinned at her and she felt 16 all over again.  She got up hurriedly to hide her middle aged blushes. 

“Dos rwan, a dim mwy o dy lol hefo Mr Daniel.  Addo i fi Ifan!”

“Iawn Miss Llwyd.”

***
Page 44

“Beth pe bawn i’n deud petha hegar am bobol hefo gwallt coch?” Elsbeth Ty-Capel grimaced and shook her distinctive red hair as all the class looked in her direction.

“Neu wallt du fath a brân There were three candidates for this: Bryn, Meinir or Elen. The class stared at them and the two girls giggled in embarrassment.

“Beth am blant tal?” It was William’s turn to be the centre of attention. “Neu gwallt hefo plethi (Rhiannon) llygaid glas (Ann) neu rhai’n gwisgo cardigans gwlan (June) neu sgidia hoelion – neu rwbath arall sy’n ein gwneud nhw’n wahanol?”

“Sut dechreuodd y trwbwl yn yr iard ddoe? Bryn! Ti’n gwybod, ‘dwyt?”

Bryn  did not clam up immediately as Mr Griffiths had feared. It was almost as if he wanted a confessional – a chance to get a weight off his mind. He hesitated, started to speak, stopped, looked down,

“Roedd Gwylim yn gwneud sbort am ein penna’ ni.”

“Sut?”

Bryn looked up and looked straight and fearlessly into the head teachers eyes,

Mae o’n meddwl ei fod mor grand hefo’i gap ysgol grachlyd a’i Saesnag crand.”

“Beth ‘nath o i ti?”

A long silence.

“Ddeudodd o rywbeth i dy ypsetio ti?”

“Do”

“Be?”

“Mi roedd o’n gofyn am Mam.”

“Gofyn be?”

“Ei henw, a lliw ei gwallt a ballu.”

“A dyna’r cyfan?”

There was no answer this time. Mr Griffiths switched to safer territory.

“Sut ma’ dy frawd? Cofia ddeud wrtho fo am ddod draw cyn mynd i Fangor.”
                                                                           
Bryn’s head rose like a flower greeting the sun.

“Mi ‘na i.”

***

Page 49

The Headmaster looked at him as if at his alter-ego

 “Mae’n ymddangos eich bod chi’n anwybyddu rhanau pwysig ohonoch chi’ch hun – eich hanes a’ch dywylliant.”

The change of language brought Ifan’s head up

“Ia syr.  Yn union.”

“ Ifan. Mae pob rheswm dw i wedi roi i ti am y ffordd mae’r ysgol yn cael ei rhedeg yn hollol wir. Ond, fath a chditha dw’i breuddwydio am weld Ysgolion Cymraeg mewn ardoloedd fel hyn. Paid byth ag amau hynny.”

The Headteacher stood up and went over to his sideboard, collected a leaflet which he placed on the desk in front of Ifan.

“Mi ro’i newyddion da i chdi i dy gadw di i fynd. Am y pum mlynedd diwetha ‘ma, dw i wedi bod yn gweithio fel rhan o grwp i sefydlu Ysgol Uwchradd Gymraeg i blant a fydd yn sicrhau fod pob plentyn yn enill sgiliau hanfodol yn Saesneg.  Ym mis Medi bydd ysgol newydd wedi’i sefydlu yn Rhyl, Ysgol Glan Clwyd, gyda phob pwnc yn cael ei ddysgu drwy gyfrwng y Gymraeg. Ond mae ‘na ddigon o bobl sy’n amau doethindeb y fath lwybr: sy’n mynnu ein bod ni’n tywys plant deallus i gyrion addysg. Dydw i ddim yn cytuno â nhw.”

“Os oes gynnoch chi gariad at yr iaith fel y dywedsoch wrtha i, a fel mae Miss Llwyd yn dweud wrtha’ i, y peth gora’ fyddai i ti sicrhau llwyddiant i’r fenter – a gobeithio nad yw hyn ond y cam cyntaf i sefydlu ysgolion eraill o’r un math. Ond cyn i ti wneud cyfraniad mae angen i ti gael gradd dda a llawer mwy o sgiliau diplomataidd. Mae Mr Danials yn Gymro da ac yn athro da hefyd, a gall fod o help i chdi – Paid â gwneud gelynion o bobl fel fo. Ti’n dallt?

“Ydw Syr.”

***
Page 73

She was determined that the boys would not repeat her mistakes. She had told them again and again,  

“Gwna rwbath o dy hun ‘machgan i. Paid a gadal i bobol ddeud wrthat ti am fodloni bod yn y fath dwll â hwn ac i weithio yn yr un chwarel a laddodd dy daid. W’ ti’n werth mwy na hyn. Gaddo i mi.”
  
***

Page 79

 “Gwna hyn i ni – chdi a fi a Bryn.  ‘Nei di?”

Ifan found it hard to believe that she could respond so cruelly to his success. But he spoke softly.

“Ond, Cymraeg ydw i ‘isio ‘neud Mam, yn fwy na dim.”

She looked at him again seeing her own stubbornness in the set of his jaw. She looked into her son’s eyes; soft, but gleaming with certainty and she knew there was no point.

She fell into the chair by the fire, quite defeated and stared ahead of her fixedly.

“Mam?  Mam?  ‘Da chi’n iawn?”  ventured Ifan quiety.

There was no word of reply.

***
Page  83                                                                          

Llongyfarchiadau ar dy resylts Ifan Jones  - a thitha Gwen” 

Diolch Mrs Llwyd.”   They both looked awkwardly and disbelievingly at the examination result slips in their hands.
.
“Beth” o hyn ymlaen plis. Reit – Peidiwch ag edrych mor syn!  Dathlwch! Mae’r ddau ohonoch chi wedi g’neud mor dda – yn llawer gwell nad oedd ei angen i gael lle ym Mangor Ifan a thithau yn Lerpwel Gwen. Dw i mor falch o’r ddau ohonoch. Rhowch gwtch i fi.” 

In the entrance hall Beth Llwyd hugged her protégé and his girlfriend.

“Rwan ta – ffoniwch eich teuluoedd. Gewch i iwsio’r ffôn yn yr offis. Chdi gynta’ Gwen.”

Gwen looked at Ifan with a grin. Beth Llwyd obviously wanted a moment alone with her favourite prodigy. She ran off.

“Sut mae dy fam rwan?”  

“Mi ddaw rownd mewn amser – gobeithio.”

“A dy dad?”

“Wrth ei fodd!  Bygwth dod draw i ambell ddarlith.”

She reached into her bag a produced a small, green volume.

Rhywbeth bach i’ch atgoffa amdanon ni.”  Mae ffôn nymbar ni tu fewn os wyt ti eisio cadw mewn cysylltiad.” 

“Diolch Miss Llwyd.”

“Croeso.” She was close to tears.  “Rwan, fy hogyn drwg.”  She flung her arms about him. Gwen’s voice quietly interrupted

Gai o’n nôl rwan, Miss?” 

“Cei siwr Gwen. Madda i mi fel hen ffŵl wirion.  Reit - Edrychwch ar ôl eich gilydd.” 

“Rwan, Ifan cer i ffonio dy fam!”  Ifan did not move.

“Does ganddi ddim diddordeb, bellach” 

“Paid a bod mor ddwl! Wrth gwrs mae ganddi hi! Dos i ffonio.”

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Page 88
 Her mother produced a photo of herself in full starched uniform on the steps of the Nurses’ Home in 1922.

“Sbia ar y startch yn y ffedog yna -  Yn fy nyddia’ i mi fuo raid iti starchio popeth – a mi roedd y sgert yn cyrradd dy draed.  Mae pethau wedi newid lot erbyn hyn. Ma’n nhw’n gwisgo llewys byr a bibs yn lle’r hen dentia hyll na.  Mae ganddyn nhw hetiau del “pill box” yn lle y bonedau gwirion yna fel dw i’n gwisgo yn y llun ‘na. Dwi eisio llun cyn gynted ag y byddi di wedi setlo I lawr.”

“Iawn Mam”

***
Page 90

Beth am dad?” asked Ifan. Bryn shrugged and made no comment. He had never felt close to his father, and now he had moved out or “Wedi rhoir gorau i ni”, as his  Mother preferred it, his father had become a mildly embarrassing irrelevance. 

“Fo sy’n ennill y pres i’n cadw ni. Dydi Mam ddim ond ennill pitw o gyflog.” 

“Wir?”  replied Bryn without looking up.  He said nothing. Suddenly,  he looked up and asked the question that was worried him.

“Fyddi di a Gwen yn aros yn gariadon?”

“Gobeithio. W’ ti’n licio Gwen ond w’t ti?”

“Ydw. Mae’n hogan neis.”

“Gobeithio fedran ni fynd hefo’n gilydd I Lerpwl rywbryd i weld y ffwtbol a’i chyfarfod hi eto.”

“Ti am addo?

“Ydw siwr.”

That was the third time he’d promised so he had to make it happen.

***
Page 104


When the hands of the schoolroom clock reached 3:30 the children put their equipment in their desks and waited in silence for Mr Griffiths to dismiss them – a row at a time.

“Bryn, Ti’ gw’bod bod dy fam yn dy ‘nôl di heno, ‘dwyt?

“Ydw Syr”

 “Iawn. Noswaith dda blant. A chofiwch, cymerwch ofal ar y lôn.”

“Noswaith dda Mr Griffiths”,  they chorused and filed out a row at a time.
Mr Griffiths had seen Phyllis’ outline through the obscured glass panels in the walls of the classroom. He followed out the last of the children and greeted her,

“P’nawn da, Mrs Jones.”

“P’nawn da, Gerallt”

No other parent could greet him by his Christian name. Very few parents knew his Christian name. She was challenging from the start. He made a decision.

“Dewch mewn ----  Phillys”

 He remembered Bryn was hoping about awkwardly.  

“ Dos allan i chwara’ yn yr iard am ddeng munud ‘nei di Bryn? Ma’ dy fam a minna am gael sgwrs.” 
 
Bryn exited with little enthusiasm.

“Oes gen ti ots ‘mod i’n ista yn fam’ma?” 

asked Phyllis as she slid into one of the children’s desks. “O’n i’n arfer ista yn fam’ma bum mlynedd ar hugain yn ôl.” 

“Diolch byth ‘mod i ddim yma ar y pryd”, answered  Mr Griffiths. They both laughed ambiguously.

“Rwan Phyllis, be fedra i ‘neud i ti?

“Reit. Dw i am i Bryn ga’l ‘i addysg yn Saesnag o hyn ymlaen.”

Mr Griffiths did not respond. He scarcely understood her meaning. Noting his silent astonishment she continued,

“Dw i wedi cl’wad fod ‘na dri neu bedwar yn cael eu gwersi drwy’r Saesnag a ‘dwi eisio Bryn ymuno â nhw.”

“Pam?”

“Dw’i am iddo ddod yn hollol rugl yn Saesneg.” She paused for a response, volunteering no more..

“Ma’n amlwg. Ond pam?  ‘W ti’n gwybod ei fod o’n cael digon o Saesneg ar gyfer yr ilefn plys, a hen ddigon i gael gwaith yn y ffatri newydd sy’n dod i Benygroes, os y myn o. Cofia, Phyllis, hogyn bach Cymraeg ydi o. Dwyt ti ddim isio torri’i galon o drw’ ‘neud iddo fo gyfarthrebu yn Saesnag drw’r amser.”

She looked defiantly up at him enjoying the frisson.

“Dyma be’ dw i isio. Rydach chi wedi g’neud digon  i’r Saeson sy’ wedi setlo yma. Digon teg fod y Cymry yn cael ‘run chwara’ teg.” 

“Nid Saeson ydyn nhw - ond Cymry o’r Sowth.” 

“Ta waeth.  – Fel rhiant dw i eisia ‘run cyfla i’m mab inna hefyd. A dyna diwedd arni.”

“Dw i am i Bryn ‘neud rhwbath ohono’i hun.”  She looked down not wanting eye contact with “Gerallt” whilst she said the unacceptable. “Dwi ddim yn fodlon ei weld o’n aros yn y twll yma i weithio am bitw o gyflog.”

Mr Griffiths looked hard at her. He refused to answer until she lifted her head. She did so with defiance.

“Am Ifan wyt ti’n siarad. Paid byth a meddwl fod Ifan yn methu o gwbl. Mae’n ddyn ifanc, clyfar, a chlên - gobaith y genhedlaeth nesa’. Hefyd, mae ganddo fo galon ac yn dilyn ei gydwybod, a dyna’r ffordd i fodlonrwydd gwaith a bywyd.”

He continued with cruelty,

“ Dyna beth nad wyt ti ‘rioed wedi’i ddarganfod Phyllis: bodlonrwydd y galon.”

She looked up at him with something approaching hate.

“Dw i am i Bryn gael ei ddysgu yn Saesnag.  W’t ti’n dallt?”

Mr Griffiths had no option.

“Ydw, ond …………….”

There was no point in his ending the sentence. Phyllis flowed out of the room with dignity,  tears but style.

***
Page 119

Phyllis sat next to the Rayburn whilst across the small kitchen-come-sitting room Bryn laboured over homework.

“How are you doing Bryn?”

 “Go lew mam ond dydw i ddim yn licio syms”

In English my boy.”

Bryn groaned.

These sums are hard enough without having to deal with them in English.”

Numbers are the same thing in Welsh and English.”

Yes – Hard!”

They both laughed and silence resumed with Phyllis pleased at her insistence on English. She looked once more at the jobs page.

Mam!” said Bryn in the familiar rising tone that meant a request. “Man, Pam ma’ rhaid i mi ista hefo’r hogyn Saesnag na’n lle hefo Meirion Tŷ Glas?

“W ti’n gwybod’r atab cystal â fi, Bryn – rydan ni  wedi ‘i drafod o. Mae Saesneg yn bwysig i dy ddyfodol di.”

***
Page 123

John Prichard, who had shown no sign of being awake through either presentation, raised an index finger to attract the Chairman’s attention. The language of the meeting reverted to Welsh.

“Dwi’n ddiolchgar iawn i’r Cynghorydd Edwards a’r Cynghorydd Thomas am eu gwaith. Ac yn fy marn i does dim dewis ganddon ni ond derbyn y cais. Ond cyn i ni symyd ‘mlaen ga’i longyfarch y  Cynghorydd Thomas am fod y dyn cyntaf, yn fy mhrofiad i, a dwi wedi bod yma ers ugain mlynedd, i annerch y Cyngor hwn yn Saesneg. Nid  ’mod i’n hoff o’r ‘Iaith fain’ fy hun ond rhaid i ni dderbyn pwysigrwydd o weithio trwy gyfrwng  y Saesnag ‘dyddiau yma.”

There were grunts of agreement and a few “Na”s of dissent. Councillor Elias suggested an audit of the sewage arrangements of council owned properties. He then turned to another matter, 

“Fel arfer, Cymraeg ydi iaith ein Cyfarfodydd ni, a Chymraeg ydi iaith ein hardaloedd ni.  Tydw i ddim yn croesawu’r Saesneg yma o gwbl fel iaith ein cyfarfodydd.  Rhaid i ni warchod ein hiaith a pheidio gada’l y Saesneg ein dylanwadu – yn enwedig mewn ardal mor Gymreigaidd â Gwyrfai.”

Glan was alarmed by the reaction. The meeting became animated.  Councillors talked across each other. “Diolch am eich sylwada” said the chair, “Gawn ni symud at bleidlais rwan os gwelwch yn dda.”  

***
Page 136

Does dim syniad ganddyn nhw be’ di bywyd gwleidyddol go iawn. Dim ond chwarae maen nhw, ond mewn modd alla’ achosi difrod a dioddefaint mawr. ‘Rarglwydd mawr! Pwy ‘di’r Gwynfor ma?. Dyn o’r Barri ydy o – does ganddo fo’r run syniad sut mae pethau yn cael eu gwneud ym Maldwyn. Mae o’n mynnu  bod yr hawl ganddo fo i ymyrryd ym musnes Capel Celyn jest am ei fod o’n sefyll dros Blaid Cymru yn y ‘lecsiwn - does ganddyn nhw’r ‘run gobaith caneri o ennill sêt yng Nghymru.”

Pwy ddeudodd, “Politics is the art of the possible”?”

Bismarck” responded Dafydd

“Yn union. Ond erbyn hyn mae cyfaddawdu bron yn amhosibl.” 


 ***
Page 168

Their desertion of Chapel Brygwyn was noted with disapproval, and commented upon. The Reverend Elias had discussed Gwilym and his family with Mr Griffiths at one of their regular meetings.

 The Minister remained defiant, “Mae’n anodd iddyn nhw dw i’n cyfadda, ond tydw i ddim am newid iaith y capal ar’u cyfer nhw. Cofiwch chi Mr Griffiths, Capel Gymraeg a Chymreig ydy Capel Bryn Gwyn. Dwi’n bugeilio dros braidd sy’n hollol Gymraeg yn ‘u bywyda a’u diwylliant - a rhan o’m swydd i ydy cadw allan y dylanwada’ sy’n amharu ar ‘u ffordd nhw o fyw.  ‘Dach chi’n cytuno, siŵr?”

Mr Griffiths shook his had in sadness rather than disagrement, “ Ydw - i radda’. Ond fe wyddwch fod sefyllfa’r ysgolion yn dra gwahanol. Mae gennym ddyletswydd i roi rhan o addysg y plant drwy gyfrwng y Saesnag hefyd. Mae gynnon ni gyfrifoldeb i fod yn atebol i ddymuniadau rhesymol rhieni’r plant. Dyna ‘di’r gyfraith.”

“Ella wir! Dyna pam’dan ni’n anghydffurfwyr. Mae ‘n hendadau wedi talu’n ddrud am yr hawl i addoli yn ein ffydd a’n mamiaith ein hunain er gwaethaf cyfraith yr Eglwys yn Lloegr a gorthrwm yr hen dirfeddiannwyr.”

Mr Griffiths was anxious to get away before the Minister started to refight the battle for church disestablishment.

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Page 189


 She was re-assured by defamatory descriptions of girls in his year, particularly the three from the Home Counties who went about “fel tair hen wrach yn trio edrach fel Y Beverly Sisters.  Mae Angie, y peroxide blond, yn arwain  y criw.  Wedyn Catherine a Suzanne yn ei chanlyn fel dwy bwdl gyda gormod o rubannau yn eu ffwr. A mae eu hacenion yn anhygoel o posh.  I gyd yn siarad heb agor eu cegau fel y mae’r Saeson.”   


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Page 198

They were delighted that Twm’s son was doing a degree. . “Wyt ti am weithio fel athro ar ôl y brifysgol? Roedd Yncl William yn athro ‘lawr yn Abergele; felly mae traddodiad yn y teulu.” They wanted to know about Gwen whom they remembered from Liverpool.
“Duwcs annw’l – ‘na hogan ddel - Dal d’ afa’l yni hi boi. Neu fydd y lladron diawl ‘na o Lerpwl yn ei dwyn hi  – maen nhw’n dwyn popeth arall.”
Ifan congratulated the Rowlands’ on their part in the campaign and the television debate in Manchester which they had both attended. They looked doubtful,
Dd’wedon ni ddim boi. Ffermwyr ydan ni, nid gwleidyddion. I fod yn onast, ni wn i a ydan ni’n  cael dylanwad neu beidio – Ac mae’n gythra’l o straen ar ôl d’wrnod o waith.”
It appeared a good moment to mention the reason for the visit. The date of the debate in the House of Commons had been set for July 3rd. It would be followed by a vote which, if won, would empower Liverpool Corporation to issue compulsory purchase orders on 900 acres of Cwm Tryweryn - including Hafod Lwyd.  Ifan and his fellow campaigners would be at Westminster that day. But they had heard from Plaid Cymru that the inhabitants of Capel Celyn would not.
“Pam? ‘Dach chi ddim i fod i roi’r ffidil yn y to cyn i’r gêm orffan? 
There was a long, long silence broken only by Mrs Rowlands going to the grate for more hot water and replenishing the tea pot.
“Ifan bach – mi ‘dach chi’n hogia ifanc hefo addysg ac egni. Dydan ni ddim yn hen ond rydan wedi diodda deunaw mis o ansicrwydd a straen. Roedd y daith i Manceinion wedi bod yn ddiwedd y gân i mi ac Ifor. Fedran ni ddim g’neud mwy - yn enwedig pan ma’ popeth yn edrach yn wâst hollol.  Diolch i’r ddau ohonoch chi am ddwad yma heddiw. Rydan ni’n ddiolchgar tu hwnt ac os ewch i Lundain ar ein rhan ni, mi fyddwn yn wir ddiolchgar. Ma’r pentra ‘ma yn fy ngwaed i – does dim pwysicach heblaw y plant. Ond peidiwch a gofyn i ni wneud rhagor o dripiau allan o Gymru i lefydd di-Gymraeg lle mae pobl yn edrych arnon ni fel ffurf o fywyd is-raddol neu’n trin ni fel’sa ni’n llaid dan’i sodlau.”
There were tears in the corners of her eyes which she tried to blink away. Ifor’s silence spoke his uncomfortable acceptance of all his wife had said. There was no point in pressing the matter. When it was time to go, Mrs Rowland embraced the two “bechgyn fein” and gave them each a loaf of bara brith. Mr Rowlands ran them back to the station in time for their train.
“Diolch Syr,” they both said. “A diolch i Mrs Rowlands hefyd am de mor flasus.”
“Pleser,”said Mr Rowlands. “A maddau i ni os ydan ni wedi eich siomi.”

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Page 225

“Tewch. Tewch RŴAN! Mi fydda’ dipyn bach o bwyll o help. Tewch!”   
Anna challenged them,
“Ond rhaid i ni ddal ati! Dw i’m yn fodlon derbyn penderfyniad Tŷ’r Cyffredin. Ydych chi?”
“Byth.”
“Felly rhaid dyfeisio tactegau fydd yn cael effaith drawiadol: pethau fydd yn aflonyddu’r bobl hefo grym.”  

“Iawn ond sut, clefar clogs?”, shouted a voice.
 Anna had come prepared. Still standing on her chair she read a piece from the Daily Post reporting that Henry Brook planned to visit the National Eisteddfod in Llangefni in August. Despite calls from prominent figures that the invitation should be withdrawn, the Eisteddfod Council were adamant that Henry Brooke would be a welcome guest.  
There were groans from the group. “Bradwyr! Hollol nodweddiadol o Gyngor yr Eisteddfod. Paid ag ypsetio unrhyw Sais o bwys – dim ots pa niwed mae o’n ei ‘neud i Gymru.” 

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Page 294

Owen was his mother’s biggest worry.  He had looked for jobs, “Chwara teg i’r hogyn. Mae o wedi trio. Mi ath o yr holl ffordd i Bwlhelli i chwilio am waith w’sti.”  The trouble was he was losing his confidence, becoming lethargic.

“I ble’r aeth o rwan?” asked Gwen. Owen was probably in the bus shelter or café with friends.   Was there any hope of work?  Gwen’s mother hesitated. “Does na ddim fan’ma nac yn yr ardal chwaith - ond, a dyna’r drwg -dod - ma’r tri wedi cael cynnig job mewn ffatri enjiniring yn Coventry ‘wsti.”   Owen’s two years in Ferranti had given him skills that would be useful to Brown Brothers of Coventry – Farranti’s rivals. Owen did not want to go.  “Ond dach chi ddim am iddo fo fynd i Coventry, nag ydach?”  Of course her mam didn’t. “Er ei les ei hyn rhaid iddo fo fanteisio ar y cyfle.” 

 “Nei di gael gair bach yn ei glust o, Gwen?”

I’ll try. We’ll go for a drink in The Goat later.”

Diolch Gwen. Os gin ti bres? Ti fydd yn talu. Does gin Owen ‘run geiniog.”

The Goat was hard work. Owen was uncommunicative.  By the second pint he had loosened up enough for her to mention Coventry. He did not want to go. “Dyn fy milltir sgwâr ‘dwi wsti.”  
“Owen, Siarada hefo fi wnei di.” He played with his beer mat for a time then looked up at her. “Be’n union w’t ti’n fwriadu ‘neud flwyddyn nesa’ ar ol gorffan dy gwrs ysbyty?” 
.
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Page 297

 “Anhygoel. Ma’n nhw’n ymddiheuro i ti!” . She then turned on the other two boys challenging each in turn. “Arnon ni mae’r bai os oes rhaid beio rhywun.”

They reminded her that the demonstration against Henry Brooke, which she had organised, had been effective. He had cancelled his visit. Anna dismissed this. It had been a gesture but it had not put any real pressure on the Minister.

“Rhaid, Rhaid Rhaid  i ni ‘neud rhywbeth mwy!” 

“Ond be?” asked Ianto with a shrug, “Rydan ni wedi trio popeth.  Be’ sy’ ar ôl ond trais? Dyna be ti’n awgyrmu ‘wneud?” 

“Ella.”
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Page 322

“Wrth gwrs dos ‘na neb arall. Yr hurtyn gwirion! Dwi’n dy garu di Ifan. Dallt? A dw i eisiau dy gadw di – ond nid os wyt ti isho dianc. Dallt rwan twpsyn?” 

“Ydw – Dwi’n meddwl” 

“A phaid â deud dy fod eisio amser i feddwl”

“Pam lai?”
“Achos, os o
es rhaid i ti gael amser i feddwl  - mae’n amlwg nag wyt am aros yn y berthynas. A, beth bynnag -  Ma’ mws i’n mynd mewn awr a hannar.  FELLY-----?” 

Ifan’s thoughts whirled.
“Gwen. Plîs, paid a bod mor galed. Dwi’m yn gw’bod a dyna’r gwir. Dwi’m yn gallu g’neud penderfyniada’ drosof i  fy hun am yr wsnos nesa’ heb son am ‘neud penderfyniad holl bwysig am weddill f’oes!” 

“Iawn!” said Gwen. “Dwi’n dallt.”

She kissed him on the cheek and went to pack. She was still crying when the bus reached Liverpool.

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Page 341

 “Faswn i’n lico gwthio tipyn o synnwyr cyffredin i mewn i’r ddau ohonyn’ nhw. Mae Gwen mor benstiff a fo. Gwrthod siarad hefo neb ac aros yn i’stafell yn y ‘sbyty bob munud nad ydy hi ar y ward. Bobol bach – plant ‘te!”
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Page 341

“Paid ag edrach arna i fel ‘na chwaith. Hen gyfaill ydi o – be sy’o’i le ar g’warfod hen ffrindia ’weithia’? W’t ti’m am ddwad i fy ngwarchod, rhag drwg.”

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Page 350

Ifan protested that there was nothing they could do that would be effective. Strikes appeared the best weapon but the unions were not interested.  Demonstrations had failed. He looked up.
“Ydach chi’n ystyriad trais?”  

“Yn sicr. Nid yn erbyn unigolion ond yr erbyn eiddo, neu adeilada’, neu gofebau o bwys.” 

“Na Anna. Tasa ni’n medru g’neud rwbath felly, mi fuasa’r mwyafrif o bobl yn ein condemio ni. Dyma pam mae gweithgaredda’ o’r fath yn cael eu gwrthod gan Gwynfor Evans.”

 “Ond mae Saunders Lewis yn ein hannog ni i weithredu fel hyn.”

“Ydi. Yr union ddyn ro’th ei gefnogaeth i Franco – does ryfadd fod o wedi colli cefnogaeth y werin yma.  Y dyn sy’ rwan yn erbyn yr Orsaf Atomig yn Nhrawsfynydd – dim ots am y dorf o bobl sy’n ddi-waith yn ‘rardal.  Does ganddo fo ddim gobaith caneri i blesio’r werin ar ôl be mae o wedi’i ddeud a’i wneud.” 

“Ella wir. Ond dyna pam ma’n rhaid i ni weithredu mewn rhyw fodd gwahanol dros y wlad  - gan bobl ifanc sy’ ddigon glew a dewr.  Dwi’n fodlon.” 

She had ideas what the targets might be. From her jacket appeared a list.  Ifan looked at it and at her. This was no joke.  She suggested the Temple of Peace in Cardiff because that was where the Council of Wales met. In Liverpool, the statue of Queen Victoria outside Lime Street had symbolic value. In London, her target would be the Ministry where Henry Brooke was based.

“Be dach chi’n fwriadu ‘neud felly – ffrwydriadau? bomio? 
“Yn union.”

“Oes gen ti ddeinameit yn dy bocad ‘ta be?”

“Nagoes”

“Neu unrhyw syniad lle i ddod o hyd iddo?” 

“Dim eto” 

“Anna, ‘dach chi’n hogan annw’l, ond peidiwch â bod mor blydi hurt.”

 Ifan pushed the list back and left. Her stare burned into his back.   

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Page 351

He was moved by a message from Gwynfor Evans,
Dyma rywbeth o werth wedi ei gyflawni, rhywbeth a fydd yn rhoi rhywfaint mwy o liw a chyfoeth ym mywyd Cymru, a fydd yn cyfrannu at ei hunaniaeth a’i hymdeimlad o

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Page 368

She recognised one of the officers as local.

“Tom, Tom Parry ia? Be’ gredi’r iddo fod wedi ei neud?  W’ti‘n nabod y mab i. Mae o’n hogyn da tydi?  Mistêc ydi hyn, Siŵr Dduw! ”

Tom Parry looked awkward and did not reply. The second officer responded.

“In English if you please Madame. I take it you are Ifan Jones’ mother?”

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Page 391

Apart from councillors, politicians of all colours and business people, there were men and women of the town who had known Dafydd as “Hogyn o’r dre” . Huw T described him as “Dyn Mawr o dre’r Co Bach” . Goronwy Roberts described him as “a true friend and a gallant fighter for the values that make our lives worth living.” The singing was passionate and the weeping came from deep inside.


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