Gwefan Cymru-Catalonia
La Web de Gal·les i Catalunya
The Wales-Catalonia Website

Steddfod ‘Sweet Berdar'.
Tarian y Gweithiwr.
Ianto Morganwg.
11 Awst 1904.

CYFIETHIAD SAESNEG / ENGLISH TRANSLATION

Y Llyfr Ymwelwyr / El Llibre de Visitants / The Guestbook:

http://pub5.bravenet.com/guestbook/391211408/

Beth sy’n newydd yn y wefan hon?
What’s new in this website?
Què hi ha de nou en aquesta web?

(delwedd 8111)

Dyma’r tudalen gwreiddiol / the original page here:

www.kimkat.org/amryw/1_testunau/sion_prys_254_steddfod-sweet-berdar_11-08-1904_3210k.htm


STEDDFOD ‘SWEET BERDAR.' Gan Ianto Morganwg. MISHDIR Y DARIAN, — Figinta bydd rhwy scolar neu gilydd yn rhoi atroddiad llawn o'r Steddfod fawr gynhaliws 'snakes' Berdar dydd Mawrth dwetha; ond ta beth am 'ny, walla licsa'ch darllenwyrs chi gal hanas y fatch orwth un ar yr un ffwtyn a nhw'u hunen. Yr own i a mhatnar, Shoni Shirgar, wedi bod yn safio'n cwpwl tocyns ys ticyn bach er mwyn clywed y fatch fawr male voice. Dydd Mawrth a ddath ac yr oen ni'n doi wrth y drysa fel un gwr — Shoni yn wenwn trwyddo o achos rhwpath neu gilydd, a fina yn dost isha clywad y partis a chal siawns i arllws mas 'y neimlata. Dyna hen gonyn yw Shoni os na bydd 'i gap a'n gwmws. Ma pob cleran fach yn ddicon iddi ala fa i dori'r llecha yn rhacs jibwns. Crotyn bach, nad odd a ddim cuwch a hyn, halodd a i golli'i falans dydd Mawrth - crotin bach odd yn gwerthu programs wrth y drysa. ‘Here you are, I'll have a program,' mynta Shoni, ag yn ystyn cinog am dano ishtag arfadd. ‘No, threepence each,' mynta'r tamad crotyn heb fynd i bilo dim wya a’r Shirgar. ‘Threepence for what, licswn i wpod?’ atebws Shoni. ‘For the programs, please.' mynta'r llencyn mor sharpad a Marchant Williams. Ond os odd 'y mhatnar yn cintach wrth byrnu'r program, yr oedd 'i gawl a’n berwi mwy beth dychrynllyd ar ol 'i acor a, a towli 'i lycad drosto. Wir; fe fysa'n brecath i chi weld a! Rodd a'n troi'r dail, ag yn byrmanu rhwpath wrtho'i 'unan, yn gwmws ishta dyn a chollad arno.’ ‘Bachan,' mynta fa o'r diwadd, ‘dyma'r chetath mwya welas i 'riod. Byth na chyffro i! dos dim ond un dalan o brogram 'ma!'	THE ‘SWEET ABERDARE' EISTEDDFOD. ' By Ianto Morganwg. Dear Director of Y DARIAN, - I suppose that some scholar or other will give a full account of the great Eisteddfod that the Aberdare 'snakes' held last Tuesday; but in spite of that, maybe your readers would like to have a report of the competition from somebody on the same footing as / on an equal footing as themselves. Me and my partner, Johnnie from Carmarthenshire, had been saving our pennies (‘our couple of pennies’) for some time to hear the great male-voice choir contest. Tuesday came, and we two were both at the doors (‘at the doors to a man’) – Johnnie in a really bad mood (‘[being] poison / anger / bad mood through him’) because of something or other, and myself aching to hear (‘ill to hear’) the choirs and get a chance to pour out my feelings. Johnnie’s a real moaner if something gets up his nose (‘if his cap isn’t on straight’) (Cf. cadw ei gap yn gymwys / catw ’i gap yn gwmws = ‘keep his cap (i.e. somebody else’s cap) on straight’, to humour somebody in a bad temper). Every little fly is enough to make him smash the tablets into little bits (Note: an allusion to the prophet Moses breaking the tablets of the law in the Old Testament). A little squirt of a lad, (‘a little lad who wasn’t as tall as this’) got him going on Tuesday (‘sent him to / made him lose his equilibrium’) – a little lad who was selling programmes at the door (‘at the doors’). ‘Here you are, I'll have a program,' said Johnnie, proferring a penny for it as usual. ‘No, threepence each,' said the tiny lad (‘the piece / bit of a lad’) without mincing his words to Carmarthenshire [Johnnie]. (‘without peeling eggs with…’). ‘Threepence for what, I’d like to know?’ answered Johnnie. 'For the programs, please,' said the boy as sharp as Marchant Williams. [Note: Sir Thomas Marchant Williams (1845 - October 27, 1914), a native of Aberdare, was a Welsh nationalist, lawyer, and author (mainly in English). He was better known by his nom de plume of T. Marchant Williams, or simply as Marchant Williams. He was one of the first students of Aberystwyth University and later received a BA from the University of London. He went on to study law and be active in Welsh associations. In early 1900 he was appointed stipendiary magistrate at Merthyr Tydfil. Williams founded the paper ‘The Nationalist’. Among his works are ‘The Welsh Members of Parliament’ and poems such as ‘The Cloud’. He received a knighthood by 1905. As a result of his trenchant wit and criticism in his writings he gained the English nickname ‘The Acid Drop’. (Information from Wikipedia).] But if my partner was a tightfisted in buying the programme, he was fuming more than ever (‘his soup was boiling a frightful thing more’) after opening it and casting his eye over it. Indeed, it was a fearful sight to behold (‘it would be a sermon for you to see him’). He was turning over the pages, and muttering something to himself , exactly like a man who’d lost his reason (‘a man with a loss on him / a man with madness on him’). ‘Soce / Butt,’ (no real standard English equivalent to ‘bachan’ – West Country dialect English ‘soce’ or ‘butt / butty’ resembles its use most) he said at last, ‘that’s the greatest swindle I’ve ever seen. Heavens above! There’s only one page in this programme (‘one page of a programme here’).

'Dim ond un dalan, paid a walu,' myntwn ina, ‘wath yr odd y program yn dishgwl yn gnwbyn o lyfyr.' ‘Os nag wyt ti'n dewish cretu, dishgwl trosto d'unan, ta,' atebws Shoni gan wpo'r program i'n llaw i. A gwir dywetws a. Walla na chretwch chi ddim, yr odd y program yn llawn o lunia gwyr Berdar, os gwelwch chi'n dda, ag yna wrth'u cwt nhw rhoi un dalan fach i acto fel program i'r Steddfod. ‘Ia, a thalu tair cinog am weld gwynepa ‘snakes’ Berdar!’ mynta Shoni ar ol pum munad o ddishtawrwdd drychynllyd. ‘Beth nesa wysh? A dyma hwn a hwn a hwn a hwn,' mynta fa wetini, ag yn enwi rhestar o dafarnwrs odd a'u llunia ar y program fel tasa fa'n rhwy ddicwddiad od fod tafarnwrs yn cal amball i Steddfod iddi nhw'u hunan whitha. Yna fe ath mlan i gydmaru'u gwaith nhw ag arfadd bechgyn y Mount gan bwynto mas fel yr odd rheini yn gwitho Steddfod i'r lan ac yn catw cottage hospital i fynd o June i January dim ond o docyns Steddfod y Pasc, tra rodd y rhain heb un polisi mwn golwg ond gwneud y Steddfod yn breifat spec iddi nhw, cwpwl o grachach odd a dicon genti nhw ishws a chynt. ‘Gofyn i ddynon diarth — dynon heb fod yn'u napod nhw, nag yn hito am deni nhw, mwy na tasa nhw'n dod o Abeocuta — gofyn i ddynon diarth i dalu am self-adverteisment iddi nhw, wel, clyw ma, weles i ariod ariod shwd gyflawndar o cheek. Tasa nhw wedi neud rhwpath na ddangos rhwpath yn dilwng o sylw, ishta'r hen Fabon druan ne Marchant Williams, w, bysa rhwpath iddi nhw i ddangos 'u gwynepa.' A dirwn ymlan fel yna yr odd y mhatnar hyd nes i fi ddoti'r closhar arno. Onbasa i fi neud 'ny, fe fysa'r Shirgar, arno'i ofan, wedi dod i ofid am 'i sylwata cyndeirog, wath own i'n gallu gweld cwpwl o wyr Berdar ar y'n pwys ni a golwg mi dy ladda di ar 'u gwynepa nhw. ‘Wyt ti yn llycad dy le, Shoni bach,' myntwn i gan 'i doddi fa, ‘ond gad hi bellach i ni gal mynd miwn i'r Steddfod.' ‘Reit shiwar!’ atebws ynta, a fe foddlonws i bido wilia racor am y program prish peint, nag am rinwedda gwyr Berdar. Wetini ar ol paso tan lycad yr hen benshonar wrth y drws, a chal y pitch-mark ar y'n garddwna, i miwn a ni i'r seti swllta (tasa no seti efyd). ‘Llawn ?' Rodd hi'n llawn ishta wy no, a phawb mor dynad yn'u gilydd a phe tasa nhw'n sardins mwn bocs. Rodd 'no amball i fodyn lled dew yn y cornal yn llio'i wefla wrth 'i gweld 'i mor llawn ond gwae fi a mhatnar - rhwng cal y'n gwasgu gan ddynon a chal y'n popi gan y gwres, oen ni bron colli'n anal, ac yn whysu, ta, ishta doi bydlar. O'r diwadd fe ddath tro y cora meibon i ganu. Y cyntaf ganws odd parti Southport. A wn i ddim pun a ni'n doi odd bartiol ne beth, ond doe'n ni ddim yn'u styriad nhw yn rhwpath ‘extra,' sgeni ddim ofan i ddweyd a, ond yr odd y Shirgar yn mynd tuhwnt i fi. ‘Wn i ddim pwy berswatws rheina'u bod nhw yn gallu canu,' mynta Shoni. ‘Son am swampo Cymru! Wn i am male voice bach yn Nghilcwm 'co a'u middsa nhw'n yfflon.' Ond ar'u hola nhw dyco barti No. 2 yn stepo i'r lan. Pwy barti yw hwna, wysh? ‘Parti Rhymny, dala i ngap,' atebws 'y matnar. ‘Wyt ti'n reit dy wala,' myntwn ina. 'Parti Rhymni yw a, ed, wath wy'n napod y ledar, a dyco fe weldi yn mynd i ben y gatar.' ‘Itha glap iddi nhw ta,' atebws Shoni nol, a chlapo nethon ni spo'n dilo ni'n gwsg. Ag yn wir fe glapodd pob copa yno (ond gwyr Manchester) wath odd pobun yn gweyd i fechgyn Rhymny gal cam yn Ngarfyrddin ag Abertawa - ma nhw ddylasa gal y first prize.	'Only one page – don’t tell fibs!' I said, because the programme looked like a great tome of a book (‘a lump of a book’). 'If you don’t believe me (‘if you choose not to believe’), look through it (‘look over it’) yourself then,’ answered Johnnie, thrusting the programme into my hand. And it was true (‘truth he said’). Maybe you don’t believe it – the programme was full of photos of Aberdare people, if you please, and as an afterthought (‘by its tail’) (= yr odd yn… rhoi: ‘it was giving’) there was a little sheet provided as an Eisteddfod programme. "Yes, and having to pay (‘and paying’) thrupence to see the faces of Aberdare sneaks / snakes!’ (Note: Aberdare sneaks – a nickname for Aberdare people, but the conservative West Country of England pronunciation of sneaks is a homophone of snakes, and the word – at least in English – has come to be understood as the word for the reptile) said Johnnie after five minutes of a terrible silence. 'What next I wonder? And this is so-and-so, and so-and-so, and so-and-so, and so-and-so,’ he said after that, naming a list of pub landlords on the programme as if it were some odd event that pub landlords had an Eisteddfod for themselves sometimes. Then he went on to compare their work with the manner of the boys of Y Mownt / The Mount (= Aberpennar / Mountain Ash), how they built up their Eisteddfod and keep a cottage hospital going from June to January just from the money (‘pennies’) from the Easter Eisteddfod, while these had no policy in view but to make the eisteddfod a private venture for themselves, a few people from the petty gentry (‘a couple of the little scabs / contemptible people’) who have enough [money] already. ‘Ask strangers – people who don’t know them, or couldn’t care less about them, any more than if they were from Abeokuta – [Note: (wikipedia) Abeokuta, town, capital of Ogun state, southwestern Nigeria. It is situated on the east bank of the Ogun River, around a group of rocky outcroppings that rise above the surrounding wooded savanna. It lies on the main railway (1899) from Lagos, 48 miles (78 km) south, and on the older trunk road from Lagos to Ibadan; it also has road connections to Ilaro, Shagamu, Iseyin, and Kétou (Benin).] asking strangers to pay them for self-publicity, well, listen here, never ever have I seen such cheek. If they’d done something or shown something worthy of attention, like poor old Mabon [Note: (wikipedia) William Abraham (14 June 1842 Cwmafan – 14 May 1922 Pentre, Rhondda), universally known by his bardic name, Mabon, was a Welsh trade unionist and Liberal/Labour politician, and a member of parliament (MP) from 1885 to 1920. Although an MP for 35 years, it was as a trade unionist that Abraham is most well known. Initially a pioneer of trade unionism, who fought to enshrine the principle of workers' representation against the opposition of the coal-owners, he was regarded in later life as a moderate voice believing that disputes should be solved through conciliation rather than industrial action.] or Marchant Williams, mun (= man), they’d have something that would give them the right to be so forward (there’d be something for them to show their faces). And my partner / butty went on like that until I put the lid on it. If I hadn’t done that, ‘Carmarthenshire’, I’m afraid, would have come to grief with his angry comments, because I could see a couple of Aberdare men near us, with a murderous look (‘with a ‘I’ll kill you’ look’) on their faces. ‘You’re quite right,’ I said, pacifying him (‘melting / softening him’) ‘but let’s forget about it now (‘but leave it now’) so we can go into the Eisteddfod.' 'All right (‘right sure’)!' he answered, and he was happy to not say any more about the programme (that was) the price of a pint, nor about the virtues of Aber-dâr / Aberdare people. After that, after being scrutinised by the old pensioner on the door (‘passing under the eye of the old pensioner’) and getting an ink stamp on the wrists (‘getting the pitch-mark on our wrists’) , in we went to the shilling seats, if there were seats to be had, that is (‘if there were seats there too’). 'Full?' It's choc-a-bloc (‘as full as an egg there’) and everyone [was] so squeezed together (‘so tight in each other’) as if they were sardines in a box. Threr were a few fairly fat people in corner licking their lips on seeing it so full – but poor old me and my butty - between being crushed by people and being baked by the heat, we were almost unable to breathe (‘almost losing our breath’) and sweating, isn’t it?, like two puddlers [wikipedia: An iron puddler or (often merely puddler) is an occupation in iron manufacturing, involving the conversion of pig iron into wrought iron with the use of a reverberatory furnace. Working as a two-man crew, a puddler and helper could produce about 3300lb (1500kg) of iron in a 12-hour shift. The strenuous labor, heat and fumes caused puddlers to have a short life expectancy, with most dying in their 30s]. Finally there came the turn of the male voice choirs to sing. The first that sang was the Southport party. And I don’t know whether we two were biased or what, but we didn’t consider them to be anything special, and I’m not afraid to say it, but ‘Carmarthenshire’ went even further (‘was going beyond me’). 'I do not know who persuaded them (‘those’) that they can sing,’ said Johnnie, ‘Talk about swamping Wales! I know a small male voice choir back in Cilcwm that could beat them soundly.’ (‘beat them into fragments’) After them choir number two took the stage (‘stepped up’). What choir is that, I wonder? ‘The Rhymni choir, I’ll bet you a pound (‘I’ll bet my cap’) said my partner. ‘You’re quite right,’ I said. ‘It is indeed the Rhymni choir (‘the Rhymni party it is, too’) because I know the conductor (‘leader’), and that’s him going up to the chair.’ ‘Then let’s give them a clap (‘quite a clap to them then’), answered Johnnie back, and we clapped (‘it’s clapping we did’) until our hands were numb (‘asleep’). And indeed everyone (‘every head’) there clapped (except for the Manchester people) because everybody said that the Rhymni boys were wrongly done by in Caerfyrddin / Carmarthen and Abertawe / Swansea - they should have got the first prize.

Ond, Mishdir y DARIAN, tasa chi ddim ond 'u clywad nhw yn'u hacor i! O! yr on nhw grand! Bechgyn bach y first tenors on nhw ishta flutes; a'r basswrs wetini y first a'r seconds yn u rowlo i ar ‘u hola nhw, a'r hen lew yn y shew tu fas a'i laish trwm yn 'u helpu nhw gymaint gallodd a, er mwyn catw anrhytadd Cymru i'r lan! Ag i fi gal dweyd 'y mrofiad, ishta dynon mwn cyfillach eclws, pan odd boys Rhymny yn canu y pishin cynta, ia a'r ail bishin, ed, own i'n clywad rhwpath yn y ngherad i, yn gwmws ishta pina bach yn y nghefan i. Ac am y mhatnar ta, yr odd e'n jiggo o dan y dylanwad fel dyn wedi 'i fesmariso'n gwmws. Clapo! Mi gretas i na fasa dim diwadd ar y clapo pan gwplson nhw! ‘O Ianto,' mynta matnar mhen ticyn ishta dyn yn dod nol o fyd arall, 'ble'r wy!’ Odd Shoni yn depig i'r hen fachan 'ny odd wedi cwmpo yn feddw ar noswath ola liad wrth ochr pwllyn o ddwr. Glywws rhai o chi'r stori, wysh? Yr odd i wraig, w, wedi dod i alw am dano fa, a dyna hi'n galw ar dop 'i llaish, ‘Morgan.' Neb yn aped. Galw wetini, 'Morga-a-n!' 'Helo!' mynta Morgan, fel dyn mwn swmp. ‘Ble'r ych chi?' mynta'r wraig yn ol. Wedi dishgwl a bothdi a ffili dyfalu ble, dyna'r aped yn dod. ‘Wy ddim yn gwpod wir, Mary fach, ond wy rwla filodd o filldirodd ochor ycha'r sers, ta beth.' A rhwpath yn depyg y teimlws Shoni mhatnar wrth glywed bechgyn y Rhymni yn 'i warblo hi. Amser a balla, ys gwetws y pregethwr, i fyn'd dros y perfformans bob yn un ac un, ond wn i ddim beth gas beirniad Abertawa i ranco parti Cardydd o flan boys y Rhymny, oblecid nol fel y canson nhw yn Berdar, do'n nhw ddim ffit i ddala canwll iddi nhw. Hefyd rwy i'n barnu bod rhai twtches da drychynllyd gan barti Sweet Perdar ac yn 'u doti nhw yn mlith yr etholedicion ond fe ffilws y beirniad a'u gweld nhw ishta fi, dodd i glust a ddim yn ddicon tena ne rhwpath.	But, Director of the DARIAN, if only you could have heard them opening it! Oh! They were great! The little lads in the first tenors were like flutes; and then the basses, the first and the second ones rolling in after them, and the old lion in the show outside with his heavy voice helping them as much as he could in order to keep up Wales’s honour! And if I can express my innermost feelings (‘say my experience’), like people in a church meeting, when the Rhymni boys sang the first piece, yes, and the second piece, too, I felt something moving over me, just like tingles (‘little pins’) in my back. And as for my partner, he was jigging under the influence like a man completely mesmerised. And the applause! (‘Applause!’) I thought it would never end (‘there would be no end on the clapping’) when they finished! 'Oh Ianto,' said my partner in a bit like a man coming back from another world, ‘where am I?’ Johnnie was like the fellow (‘that old fellow’) who fell down drunk on a moonlit night next to a pool of water. Have some of you heard the story, I wonder? His wife, mun, had come to call him, and she calls out (‘and there she is calling’) at the top of her voice, 'Morgan.' No one answers. She calls after that, 'Morga-a-n!' 'Hello!' says Morgan, like a man in a sump [Note: place where water collects at the bottom of a mineshaft; a bog]. 'Where are you?' said his wife back [to him]. After looking around him and failing to guess where, the answer came - 'I really don’t know, Mary dear (‘little Mary’) but I’m somewhere thousands of mile above the stars, anyway.” And Johnnie my partner felt something similar listening to the Rhymni boys warbling away. Time is lacking, as the preacher said, to go over the performances (‘performance’) one by one, but I don't know what possessed ('what got') the Abertawe / Swansea adjudicator to rank the Caer-dydd / Cardiff choir above (‘before, in front of’) the Rhymni boys, because going by how (‘according to how’) they sang in Aber-dâr / Aberdare they were distinctly inferior to them (‘weren’t fit to hold a candle to them’). I also think (‘judge’) that there were some really good touches by the Sweet Aber-dâr choir that put them (‘and putting them’) amongst God’s chosen few (‘among the chosen’) but the adjudicator failed to see them like me, his ear wasn’t keen enough, or something.

Y pedwar parti gas'u galw mlan i ganu gyta'u gilydd odd Southport, Rhymny, Manchester, a Resolven. Pan glywson ni enw Southport yn cal i alw mas mi gretas y basa Shoni yn mynd dros ben llestri yto, ond dodd dim amser i 'ny nawr wath yr odd isha clywad y feirniatath. O'r tri arall dodd dim doi feddwl geni naca boys Rhymny odd y gwyr gora. Own i weti hongan clod yr hen wlad wrth 'u llewisha nhw, ac yn gobitho na fasa dim un cilbwt yn rhoi y flaenoriath i'r Saeson. A wir, rodd gen i dicyn o fola at barti Resolven - y parti y cymrws Glyndwr Richards at i bolisho fa - ond dabo gomrod o baent nath Tom ishtag arfadd, ne fe fasa wedi neud batl gas am deni. Ond dyna'r feirniatath yn gneud mas taw cor Manchester odd i phia i, ag wn i ddim shwt teimlas i ar y pryd, a shwt gallws Shoni ddala miwn, achos cretwch chi fi nid joke i fachan yn caru'i wlad a'i cherddoriath odd gweld carn o Saeson ishta rhain yn dod lawr ac yn whado'n bechgyn ni yn rhacs ar 'u tomen 'u hunan. Ond ar gora Cymru'u hunen ma'r bai. Pwy sens yw sefyll mas o flan hen warriors sy' miwn training bob dydd acha chytig wsnotha o bractis. Sens, nag os, a gora pwy gynta y dwan nhw i weId 'ny ed. Yn ol y feirniatath un bai bach odd ar barti Manchester. R'odd y beirniad yn ffilo roi cownt am dano, mwn un man yn yr ail bishin chas a ddim o'r thrill ag odd a'n dishgwl gal, mynta fe. Fe grafws 'i ben sawl gwaith ond fe ffilws yn deg a chal y rheswm am y diffyg. ‘Tasa fe mond gofyn i fi, mi wetswn i'r secret wrtho,' mynta Shoni wrth y'n ochor i. Ac yr odd i lycid a'n shino ishta bobbi daslers pan yn gweyd. ‘Wel, beth yw a?’ myntwn i yn dywyll y ngwala. Ath y mhatnar yn stwmp i nghlywad i'n holi, wath yr oedd a'n arfadd etrach lan ata i ar fatar o weld. ‘Mi weta wrthot ti,' atebws Shoni gan shapo'i unan ishta cownsilar, ‘y bachan odd yn gofalu am y thrill odd y bachan 'ny o Fanchester gas i rhitag miwn yn Carfyrddin y ddo. Welast ti mo'r hanas ar y ’South Wales’? Odd a wedi mynd mor falch, w, bod y cor wedi meiddi fel yr ath a i orwadd ar genol yr hewl, a dyna lle'r odd a, ishta Mwlsyn Cati Lansaint, yn whara 'i fagla yn yr air yn arwdd 'i fod a'n falch 'i fod a'n fyw. Ag fel Amen crand i'r brecath te fflingws 'i escid — whiw; — trwy ffenast shop godderbyn iddo, ac yn gwiddi 'run pryd nes bo wal y jail yn siglo i gyd — 'good old Manchester!’ Ond dyna bwtyn o blisman yn dod o rwla ac yn colero'r bachan, ond os do fa fe gas gystal clewten ag a gas a 'riod am interfiro rhyngto a Manchester. Y gwir am deni, yr odd y bachan wedi dwli gan lawenydd — widda fa ddim beth odd a'n weyd nac yn neud, a dylsa'r plisman fod yn ddicon call i bido nido mlan mor ddiswmwth. Ond ta beth, ma'r cantwr bach yn y lock-up, a ma fa'n depig o gal cwpwl o fishodd i bico ocwm am 'i rialtwch, oblecid tamad at flas gwyr y bench yn Carfyrddin fydd y cyfle i ddial arno fe am fod Cor Meibon Manchester wedi sarnu cora Cymru dan drad. Ond ta beth, fe alws cor Manchester i golli'r wobor yn Abertawa, ag fe welodd y beirniad 'i isha fa yn Steddfod Berdar, wath fe odd y bachan odd yn gofalu am y thrill.' Drosof Fi a Mhatnar, Yr eiddoch, IANTO MORGANWG.	The four choirs that were called forward to sing with each other were Southport, Rhymni, Manchester, and Resolfen. When we heard Southport’s name being called out I thought Johnnie would blow his top again (‘go over the top of the dishes’), but there was no time for that now because he wanted to hear the adjudication. Of the other three there was no doubt in my mind (‘there was no doubt (‘no two minds’) with me that not....’) that the Rhymni boys were the best ones (‘best men’). I’d staked Wales’ reputation (‘hung Wales’s praise / renown / reputation / honour’) on them (‘on their sleeves’) and hoped there wouldn’t be any underhandedness (‘would not be the one underhandedness / a single act of underhandedness’) giving priority to the Englishmen. Indeed, I had a bit of a liking for the Resolfen choir – the choir that Glyndwr Richards (See Papur Pawb 2 February 1901: T. Glyndwr Richards / Tom Glyndwr Richards https://newspapers.library.wales/view/3593155/3593160 ) took to polishing – but Tom dabbed on too much paint as usual, or it would have been a close fight (‘nasty battle for it’). But the adjudication decided (‘made out’) that Manchester was the winner (‘Manchester had it’), and I don’t know how I felt at the time, and how Johnnie was able to contain himself (‘to hold in’), because believe you me it was no joke for a fellow who loves his country and its music to see a load of English people like these coming down and soundly beating our boys on their own turf (‘own dungheap’). But it’s on Wales’s own choirs that the blame lies. What sense is there in showing oneself up (‘in standing out’) in front of old warriors who are rehearsing (‘in training’) every day, [compared to us having had just] a few weeks of practice (‘every day, on a few weeks of practice’). Sense, there isn’t any, and the sooner they realise that (‘they come to see that’), the better. According to the adjudication there was one small thing which detracted from the Manchester choir’s performance (‘one small fault on the Manchester choir’). The adjudicator was unable to put his finger on it (‘failed to give account for it’) - in one place in the second piece he didn’t get the thrill he expected to have, he said. He scratched his head several times but he completely failed to find the reason for what was missing (‘for the lack’). ‘If he’d just ask me, I’d tell him the secret,’ said Johnnie by my side. And his eyes were shining like bobby-dazzlers when he was speaking. [English slang: bobby-dazzler = anything that dazzles; anything striking or attractive: a person who is attractive or wearing fancy clothes]. 'Well, what is it?' I said, flummoxed / quite perplexed (‘dark my sufficiency’). My partner was surprised (‘went into astonishment’) to hear me asking, because he was used to looking up to me on matters of seeing / understanding. 'I’ll tell you,' answered Shoni, adopting a pose like a councillor (‘shaping himself like a councillor’) ‘the fellow responsible for (‘looking after’) the thrill was that fellow from Manchester who was arrested (‘was run in’) in Caerfyrddin / Carmarthen yesterday. Didn’t you see the story in the South Wales [Daily News]? He was so proud (‘He'd gone so proud’), mun, that the choir had won (‘had beaten’) that he lay down (‘that he went to lie down’) in the middle of the road, and that’s where he was, like the mule of Cati (Catherine) from Llan-saint, kicking his legs about (‘playing his legs’) in the air to show that he was (‘as a sign that he was’) glad to be alive. And like a grand Amen to the sermon, isn’t it, he threw his shoe – wham – through the window of the shop in front of him (‘opposite him’), and shouting 'Good Old Manchester!' at the same time until the wall of the jail was shaking (‘shaking all’). But then a squat little policeman (‘a stumpy person of a policeman’) came from somewhere and collared the fellow and and guess what (‘and if yes-it-was’) he [the policeman] got a real thumping (‘he got as good a blow as he ever got’) for interfering with his Manchester performance (‘for interfering between him and Manchester’). The truth is, the fellow was ecstatic (‘gone dull with joy’) – he didn’t know what he was saying or doing, and that the policemen should have been wise enough not to jump forward so quickly. But anyway, the little singer is in the lock-up, and he’s likely to get a couple of months picking oakum for his merry-making, because he’ll be eaten alive by (‘he’ll be a little piece [of food] for the taste of’) the gentlemen of the bench (= the magistrates) in Caerfyrddin / Carmarthen – an opportunity to get revenge on him because the Manchester Male Voice Choir floored the Welsh choirs (‘trampled the choirs of Wales underfoot’). But anyway, he made the Manchester choir lose in Abertawe / Swan, and the adjudicator noticed his absence (‘saw his need’) in the Aber-dâr / Aberdare Eisteddfod, because he was the fellow who was responsible for the thrill. On Behalf of Me and My Partner, Yours, IANTO MORGANWG.

Sumbolau:
a A / æ Æ / e E / ɛ Ɛ / i I / o O / u U / w W / y Y /
…..
…..
MACRON: ā Ā / ǣ Ǣ / ē Ē / ɛ̄ Ɛ̄ / ī Ī / ō Ō / ū Ū / w̄ W̄ / ȳ Ȳ /
MACRON + ACEN DDYRCHAFEDIG: Ā̀ ā̀ , Ḗ ḗ, Ī́ ī́ , Ṓ ṓ , Ū́ ū́, (w), Ȳ́ ȳ́
MACRON + ACEN DDISGYNEDIG: Ǟ ǟ , Ḕ ḕ, Ī̀ ī̀, Ṑ ṑ, Ū̀ ū̀, (w), Ȳ̀ ȳ̀
MACRON ISOD: A̱ a̱ , E̱ e̱ , I̱ i̱ , O̱ o̱, U̱ u̱, (w), Y̱ y̱
BREF: ă Ă / ĕ Ĕ / ĭ Ĭ / ŏ Ŏ / ŭ Ŭ / B5236: B5237:
BREF GWRTHDRO ISOD: i̯, u̯
CROMFACHAU: ⟨ ⟩ deiamwnt
A’I PHEN I LAWR: ∀, ә, ɐ (u+0250) https: //text-symbols.com/upside-down/
…..
…..
ˡ ɑ ɑˑ aˑ a: / æ æ: / e eˑe: / ɛ ɛ: / ɪ iˑ i: / ɔ oˑ o: / ʊ uˑ u: / ə / ʌ /
ẅ Ẅ / ẃ Ẃ / ẁ Ẁ / ŵ Ŵ /
ŷ Ŷ / ỳ Ỳ / ý Ý / ɥ
ˡ ð ɬ ŋ ʃ ʧ θ ʒ ʤ / aɪ ɔɪ əɪ uɪ ɪʊ aʊ ɛʊ əʊ / £
ә ʌ ẃ ă ĕ ĭ ŏ ŭ ẅ ẃ ẁ Ẁ ŵ ŷ ỳ Ỳ
…..
…..
Hwngarwmlawt: A̋ a̋
gyn aith δ δ
…..
…..
ә ʌ ẃ ă ĕ ĭ ŏ ŭ ẅ ẃ ẁ ŵ ŷ ỳ

Ә Ʌ Ẃ Ă Ĕ Ĭ Ŏ Ŭ Ẅ Ẃ Ẁ Ẁ Ŵ Ŷ Ỳ Ỳ
…..
….

Hwngarwmlawt: A̋ a̋
gyn aith δ δ
…..
…..
ʌ ag acen ddyrchafedig / ʌ with acute accent: ʌ́

Ə́ ə́	Shwa ag acen ddyrchafedig / Schwa with acute
Ə́Ә ə́ә	DejaVu Serif

Y TUDALEN HWN /THIS PAGE / AQUESTA PÀGINA:
www. []kimkat.org/ amryw/1_testunau/sion_prys_254_steddfod-sweet-berdar_11-08-1904_saesneg_3211k.htm

Ffynhonnell / Font / Source: llyfrgell genedlaethol cymru
Creuwyd / Creada/ Created: 20-03-2019
Adolygiadau diweddaraf / Darreres actualitzacions / Latest updates: 02-04-2019, 20-03-2019
Delweddau / Imatges / Images:

---------------------------------------

Freefind.

Archwiliwch y wefan hon
SEARCH THIS WEBSITE
---
Adeiladwaith y wefan
SITE STRUCTURE

Beth sydd yn newydd?
WHAT’S NEW?

Ble'r wyf i? Yr ych chi'n ymwéld ag un o dudalennau'r Wefan CYMRU-CATALONIA
On sóc? Esteu visitant una pàgina de la Web CYMRU-CATALONIA (= Gal·les-Catalunya)
Where am I? You are visiting a page from the CYMRU-CATALONIA (= Wales-Catalonia) Website
Weə-r äm ai? Yüu äa-r víziting ə peij fröm dhə CYMRU-CATALONIA (= Weilz-Katəlóuniə) Wébsait

Adran y Wenhwyseg / Secció del dialecte de Gwent / Gwentian Welsh

Edrychwch ar ein Hystadegau / Mireu les nostres Estadístiques / View Our Stats

…..

Adran Testunau Cymraeg / Secció de extos en gal·lès / Welsh-language Texts

Edrychwch ar fy Ystadegau / Mireu les estadístiques / View My Stats

Gwefan Cymru-Catalonia La Web de Gal·les i Catalunya The Wales-Catalonia Website

Gwefan Cymru-Catalonia
La Web de Gal·les i Catalunya
The Wales-Catalonia Website