diumenge, de novembre 26, 2006

Late Autumnal Musings (English / Welsh)

I want to float forever on the blue waters of Annwn
always together in harmony with the three's..

y gorffenol, that which is finished
y presennol, that which is not finished, but still nascent
y dyfodol, that which is to come

Cylch yr Abred, the Circle of Change
Cylch y Gwynfyd, the Circle of Purity
Cylch y Ceugant, the Circle of Ultimacy

Annwn, the world of memories
Y Dwfn, the deep waking world where the Cunning Forest grows in the light of stars
Y Dyfnaf, the Summer Lands, where the ancestors dream and remember old love

Three worlds, nine vales, the number is complete and compelling
and old story borne by ancient Druids in white robes
from the throats of my ancestors
to the world of the tomorrow

I will not give up easily on this world of struggle, bydysawd
slowly, slowly the men in white lab coats today
piece together evidence
compelling, though incomplete
that maybe, just maybe, all this means something more

more than to live one's moment
to strut upon the stage and then take one's messy curtain call
amid a cacophony of coughs and baffling of bowels
more than the futile biological imperative to survive
since even the planet will be consumed by the lust of the dying sun
like Greek boys were consumed by wrinkled senators and decadent philosophers

perhaps it is possible in this quantum universe
ultimately to experience everything
and that my tiny life
lost in a tiny backwater
on a small planet
in an uninspiring star system
on the outskirts of the Milky Way
may not be the end of my story after all

that perhaps one day
in another time and place
I will have lived a life that will inspire another
as Chavela and Frida inspire and touch mine
like Millie and Helen have done
great stories that take lifetimes to write
if they are ever written
and even then the words are dead before the page is printed

for they can live only in our minds
and then perhaps carried forever on Theta Waves
along the blue waters of Annwn
forever always
and never really
into the uncertain embrace of the Question Mark

dilluns, de novembre 20, 2006

Sweet Memory of a Night of Fondness (English / Cornish)

I have a weakness for your kind
you remind me of a ghost that still haunts the fringes of my world
your dark eyes
your olive skin
your youth
your smell
opium to my peptide hungry body

You were the perfect lover
a century, two, even more might have passed
I would still have longed for your earnest lust
still savor the taste of your kisses
the tell-tale traces of cigarette smoke on your tongue
the scent of my own body on your face as you came close to me

And while we met just once
And we are unlikely to meet again
I relish in the memory
and take heart in the quantum present
where our embraces live in an eternal now

Like all those who have come before you
and those who may come after
while we are imperfect for each other
while our worlds will never fit together
I enjoyed you and will remember you fondly
even to my dying day

(Dhe "Dynek" a re dos dhymm a'n komolyow war nos ergh wlyp mys Du. My a vydh dha gara evel my a re dha gara an nos-henna ;) )

dijous, de novembre 16, 2006

We Live in a World of Doubt (further comments from my Linguistics course) (English)

Or: "Forgive the young, the tides have not washed enough of their days away..."
Of course, no one can predict the future, and I wouldn't attempt to, but I would caution anyone who puts his or her eggs all in one basket.

When I was in High School, we believed the Soviet Union would start a war that would destroy us all. In fact, being a mere 10 miles from a second strike target in Pennsylvania, we were even taught what areas of the county would be vaporized, what zones in the firestorm, what zones would have doors and windows blown out, and what zones would merely suffer radiation poisoning. I remember my biology teacher saying that when he heard the Soviets were bombing, he planned to take his wife and daughters to the army depot and wait there to be vaporized.

Yet, most of you who are younger than I did not know that world, or are too young to have understood it. The world was a different place a mere 20 years ago.
A century? None of us will recognize the world then really, not if we could see it from our seats behind our computers.

My aunt Arwilda was born in 1908. When she was a girl, Latin and French were the languages to learn, and the farmers in the countryside all spoke Deits (Pennsylvania German). There was no electricity in her town, nor were the streets paved. They had telephones, but no radio. She read the Sears Catalogue by gaslight. She could remember her mother renting a horse and buggy at the livery stable down the block to ride to a rather distant village (15 miles away) on a family emergency. She was in such a hurry, the buggy went up on one wheel as she rounded the corner on her way out of the livery. My aunt lived until 1994. She saw a gaslit, horse and buggy world evolve into a world with computers, color television and the very real threat of hot, atomic death.

I think you have all posited very fine thoughts, but many of you make leaps of faith and commit dreadful logical fallacies. The future is as mutable (changeable) as the past was varied, indeed, moreso. Perhaps English will still be important in 100 years. Certainly it will still be spoken.
But while it shall still be spoken, it won't necessarily be the first language in schools and in business meetings. One thing is relatively certain, the United States will not be the world's only power. This is new, and it won't last, no country holds power for long, and as I have pointed out in several places, there are many tell-tale signs of our decline. I suspect it is likely that we will still be an important player in the global arena, but we will be sharing top-billing with other nations, just as we have in the past.

Things will not always be as they are now.

Watch out, tomorrow will be exciting, thrilling, hair-raising, and nothing like any of us imagines ;)

dimecres, de novembre 15, 2006

Further Comments from my Linguistics Course (English)

So far, I think you've all added some really good contributions to this discussion, but I'm a little disappointed that not more of you caught on to the very different ways those who speak Mohawk and those who speak English view their world.

There are two concepts which I often share with my language students: Crossing the Bridge & Parallel but Incongruous Linguistic Universes.

Crossing the Bridge: this is a term I learned during my early years of learning Welsh and being, albeit marginally, involved in Welsh and Welsh language politics. Back in the 80's there was a movement in Wales called "Croesi'r Bont," or Crossing the Bridge. This idea was used to demonstrate how non-Welsh speakers could cross the bridge to the Welsh speaking world with time and practice. I remember Welsh Tutor John Albert Evans describing people in our class in relationship to the bridge (much to the glee of my own ego, I was described as having already crossed it!) Other students were described as setting foot on the bridge, or halfway across, etc. I tell my own students about this bridge and explain to them that when they finally do it, when they finally master their chosen language well enough to function comfortably in their new language, that they have now crossed a bridge to somewhere new...

...to a Parallel but Incongruous Linguistic Universe. No matter how close two languages may be, say French and English, the perception of everything shifts when you move from one to the other. You really do "see" the universe differently while wearing French colored glasses as opposed to English colored ones, and vice-versa. The same is true for any language. There are whole ideas, concepts, from the mundane to the profound that differ wildly from one language to the other.

It is indeed true what Noam Chomsky claims about language, that all human languages are equal, at least theoretically. In practice they do not exchange relevant concepts that are unique and different between them to make each complete. It is not just the concepts (semantics) however, but also the syntax, morphology and pragmatics that give each language a different perspective, each totally unique. As hard as it is to imagine, but when I'm in Wales, speaking Welsh all day, everyday, my universe is Welsh. China has a Welsh accent (there are Welsh speakers there having Welsh thoughts about it!). Quantum Physics flows like poetry through ancient concepts of the natural world, even if the math behind it is no easier in Welsh than in English (but in Welsh I get to talk about my numbers in base ten or base twenty, or for fun mix the two systems up!). World politics are colored by millenia old Celtic concepts of federation, tribal allegiance, freedom and fair play. It is not the world that I occupy in English, and because none of you speaks Welsh, you will never really understand what I mean unelss one day you do. However, some of you have crossed bridges into English or other languages, and perhaps, if you're proficient enough, and you're sensitive enough, you will perceive these linguistic differences in perception. French, Japanese, English, Mandarin, Wolof, Mohawk, Latin, Russian, Arabic, and all the other languages of the Earth occupy the same space and time, but do not share the same reality.

If you get a chance, go back and read the chapter on Mohawk again, and see if you can begin to appreciate what this means in relation to how Mohawk perceives reality.

dilluns, de novembre 13, 2006

Response to a Student Post on the Future of English (English)

Well, obviously you feel very strongly about the future of the English language, but some of the other students have already painted parallel pictures that show how the demise of English will come about. It is not, at the end of the day a question of if English will die, but when. If you asked a Roman citizen if he thought there would come a day when Latin would not be the language of the Empire, he would have laughed at you. And while Latin continued to be used as a language of many cultural endeavours after the fall of the Empire, the language that was being used in universities and in scholarly works would have been incomprehensible to the citizens of the Empire at its height. They could have read it, but would not have understood spoken Medieval Latin, since it had long ceased to be a community language.

That's one of the possible death's of English frankly, because it is so analogous to Latin. Global English will take on a sort of moribund life of its own, static and essentially unchanging (it could not change much if it were to remain an international language), while the local variations of English would continue to evolve into new languages. That process would be very slow and it would be generations, perhaps centuries before the speakers of the regional Englishes would begin to see themselves as distinct from Global English.

However that's assuming a lot of variables will not change. English has only been the international language for about 40 years (generously speaking). Really, it did not fully supplant French until the mid to late 1970's, and while many Americans are confused or bemused the persistence of French in the wake of the English language's rise to power, the rest of the world still uses French as a first or second international language (including the English!). What appears to be a meteoric rise to global domination is really the result of coincidences that no one is in control of. Currently, the world's largest economy is the European Union, followed by the United States and then by Japan, Germany, and China (using nominal GDP, the arrangement is a little different with PPP GDP, but you can poke about the data yourself to see what that really means). A number of other European Union countries fairly well fill in the other top ten slots, and only one of them speaks English. French and German are the mostly widely spoken languages in the Union and are the languages of its wealthiest and most developed (refering to HDI components as well as GDP) members. The playing field is still very crowded when it comes to economic domination. Yes, English is the big man on campus today, tomorrow may be another story.

The knives are out, of course, with a number of global languages [linguae francae] (Spanish, French, Portuguese, Arabic) and some regional ones (Chinese, Hindi [actually relatively few people in India can speak English], German, Russian) struggling in the world marketplace not so far out of reach of English. These are all languages with more than 100 million speakers, all mega languages, and all serious contenders for the next world language. Will any of the supress English? Maybe, maybe not, but the economic and political variables are quite profound. Take HDI (Human Development Index). While the United States has the second largest GDP (the largest of any one country), it now ranks only 8 in HDI (better than China's 81 of course). This lower score in HDI while other countries increase in HDI and have high GDP's demonstrate a certain degree of volitility in the world in which all countries are playing.

Languages like French often remain on the periphery of the Anglo psyche because we really don't see Africa. More than 20 countries in Africa use French as an official, co-official or administrative language, and with the world's 6 largest GDP and an HDI of 16, France's influence in Africa is far, far greater than England's or the United States. Canada, our neighbor to the north, is effectively 1/3 French speaking (between first language speakers and speakers of languages other than English who also speak French and French and English bilinguals. Canada has the world's 8th largest economy and an HDI of 5.

Portuguese is the forgotten mega-language par excellence of English speakers. With 220 million speakers, and spoken by people in Europe, Africa and South America, the largest single country that speaks Portuguese is Brazil, the world's 11th largest economy (HDI 69). What will happen in 15 or 20 years? Will Brazil come to eclipse China and the US? It's not unimaginable. Brazil has already weaned itself from the titt of foreign oil by convirting to ethanol for fuel. Will China still be viable? Its growth rate is already slowing (among the other fastest growing economies currently in the world are abysmally poor countries like the Sudan [Arabic] and Chad [French and Arabic]; they are small potatoes today, but Chad and Sudan have lots of black gold...). What about the "Southern Cone" of South America? Chile, Argentina and Uruguay have always performed well (at one time Argentina had the world's second largest gold reserves). If they come to dominance, Spanish may well be the world's new language of the day.

What is good ot bear in mind is something my mother always says: "It's hard to imagine things ever being different than they are now."

So true, and yet, if we look back in our lives, we can plainly see things have not always been as they are, and so we know they will change.

Will there always be an English? Not likely. It will evolve and/or die off, some day. No, certainly not in our lifetimes, nor anytime soon. This is certainly a golden age for the language and the English speaking cultures, and we should enjoy the benefits of that place without hubris because one thing that history always teaches is that the mighty always fall! Whether we fall slowly and gracefully, or are clipped at the pass by a more earnest, upstart rival is yet to be seen.

diumenge, de novembre 12, 2006

Ich bin lustig, oder etwas ;) (English)

Your Lust Quotient: 73%

You are a very lustful person - and it sometimes gets the better of you!
You know how to hold back, but you hardly ever do.

dijous, de novembre 09, 2006

Almost Real (English)

the next ship is setting sail
the last one
a ghost ship?

the captain announces
yes, this cargo is all moribund

I shall go with it
since it seems I must
better to rest on rocking ballast

than to wait
and anxious on the quay

this is the last ship out of here at all
they say
no one will remain behind

why should I?
even though the journey a head is long
and largely aimless

while no love awaits
those who sail this Charming Nancy
at least perhaps, some frigging in the rigging

yes I am tempted
to wait behind
see if my lover comes to join me

the temptation is strong
but I think fruitless

from mother's water
to the sea's waves
to theta waves

always I am further from the point of origin
further from my dream of you
you are, after all, but a dream, no?

I dreamed of you along the Welsh sea
long, long ago
it was a strong, rich dream

like all dreams
a convenient, momentary, chemical
neurological fiction

you were born out of my pituitary needs
my addiction to meaning
to relevance

all those cells are gone now
and your magic a ghost of memory
but ghosts, real or perceived, still haunt...

should I embark with the vessel
will leaving the shore behind
leave you behind as well

I wish to know
haunted planted, or haunted travelling
haunted still

perhaps left behind in the ruined past
I could be free to dream only of you
and live only in my dream

thus I would not care
I could rot like seaweed and beached cockles
all the while dreaming

Last night I felt you close
almost real
tonight I feel I await a ship that will never dock

dimecres, de novembre 08, 2006

How I Came to My Languages

Thank you for your interest. To be wholly honest, I wish I could say that my relationship with foreign language had been born of some profound, adolescent interest in the world beyond my rather limited and rustic childhood. However, the truth is, it was born from pure, unadulterated spite. When I was in the 5th grade, I had a well-meaning, but utterly absent minded teacher, who, instead of keeping her class on track with their reading levels, got us off on an interesting, but entirely off-sequence civil engineering project, designing a small town (I think this did leave an indelible impression nonetheless, as I now am a fan of SimCity, but I digress...).

In those days, in Pennsylvania, we had a strict tracking system, and by the end of 5th grade, you had to be done with a certain "reading level." Sadly, due to her indulgence, none of us was able to get adequately far enough along our "track" and all of us were dropped multiple levels upon reaching the 6th grade. This was especially consternating for me since I was already reading Tolkien in the 5th grade! Imagine my chagrin when I was placed in remedial reading! Worse still, my 6th grade teacher was a thoroughly unpleasant person, who took no interest in any of us who were in "Catch the Wind," the remedial reading group. I had to suffer along an entire year in that group, being forced to read extremely simplified texts from out primer, all of which were printed with extra large typeface. Apparently, in those days, it was considered natural that people who needed remedial reading instruction, also were unable to distinguish small letters...

Near the end of 6th grade, all students in our school had the opportunity to take an exam to test out of further reading classes and hence be allowed to study a foreign language in the fall of our 7th grade. In order to take this exam, we had to get permission from our parents. My mother signed the permission slip, and I presented it to my 6th grade teacher, she smirked, and said, "I don't know why you're bothering to take this test. You're in 'Catch the Wind.' You'll never pass."
Spite, I said, was my motivation.

Of course, I was reading real novels by that time, so I passed the exam with flying colors; I got a 94. I was very pleased to see the look of dismay and shock.

That is when I began studying French, and in the same year, having discovered that, not only did I enjoy studying French, but was able to do quite well in the class, I began studying Welsh on my own. Two years later I also signed up for Spanish, and in my senior year I took Russian. Later on in college, to appease my growing interest in the Pennsylvania German side of my family, I began working with that language as well as High German. Since then I have studied many languages to widely varying degrees, including Latin, Cornish, Irish and Breton.

In her own, malevolent way, my 6th grade teacher opened up my world to foreign languages.
And yes, once you acquire a new language, and you master it, you do see the world in a different way. The language I'm closest to emotionally, and with which I most enjoying viewing the world, is Welsh, but I also enjoy my views of the world from Spanish, French, German, etc., and the small changes in my own personality that come with them, as I have learned to reinterpret my own orginal English speaking personality within the cultural contexts of my other languages!

dimarts, de novembre 07, 2006

Comments on a Student's Submission about Meaning and Deconstruction (English)

I really enjoyed this contribution, and what I like most about it is that it demonstrates how interdisciplinary approaches can be meaningful in more than one academic direction.

I think you hit on something with your Derridian comments about the non- compositional meaning in language. One thing that more science-oriented linguists struggle with is the very nature of meaning. The problem they arrive at is that it's incredibly difficult, within the subdiscipline of Semantics, to establish what meaning is.

Of course, the irony is that inspite of his apparent railing against "traditional" literary criticism, Derrida created a whole new nomenclature which is now repeated like Biblical rote throughout the circles of literary criticism among my colleagues who are a little bit older than I, and at times even among my generation and the younger generations of literature students. For some reason however, Derrida's work is rarely deconstructed with any seriousness (rarely is not to say never...), which I think he would see as a pity. "Derrida," professor David Wills of SUNYA said," only had one idea, but it was a big one." I would at least in part concur with Wills. Wills is, by the way, a Derridist, and was a personal acquaintance (perhaps indeed an actual friend) of Derrida before he died. To me, Derrida did have one idea, although it wasn't very big really.

Deconstruction has been inflated well beyond its origins, but is nonetheless an amazingly powerful tool for literary analysis. Due to is flexibility, it's also a great tool for other kinds of social analysis as well. Without a doubt, Deconstruction, in its essence, belongs in the realm of the cognitive sciences, as one of the many tools in the arsenal to coming to terms with the understanding of how the human mind works and what it is capable of grasping and creating.

To be honest though, I would have to side with the "anti-Derridians," by large an far in the same way that, while I more often than not agree with Dawkins and the other New Atheists, that reason and science are most likely to solve our problems and lead more humans to some kind of rational enlightenment, I feel that we would be foolish to throw out the spiritual baby with the religious bath water. Derridians and their ilk have a tendency to scoff at older forms of literary analysis, and at times even scoff at literature itself! Their adherence to their absolute ideals is no better or different than Structuralists or other traditionalists, in the same way that how the New Atheists approach their Work is no different from the zealots of any religious movement.

You will notice that I link my comments back to literary criticism when I reference Derrida because that is where I believe his work is best equiped to make meaningful (hehe) contributions. While Deconstruction can be (and should be) applied to many disciplines, the vast majority of Derrida's work beyond his one big idea is founded on very faulty knowledge. He often made forays into sociology, anthropology, theology and philosophy while having no real background in those areas, despite his self-proclamation as a philosopher, and his comments in those fields are often viewed by their respective specialists as specious and spurious. While there is a small camp of Derrida-fans in some branches of Linguitics, since one of the main projects of the discipline has been to move toward hard data and hard science whenever possible, a largely untrained literary critic and his novel idea haven't met many warm welcomes. It must furthermore be said that Derrida's rise to prominence was based more on whom he knew rather than on what he knew.

Finally, while it is true that Semantics struggles to define meaning, other subdisciplines of Linguistics (notably Pragmatics), when married with Semantics, do begin to define how we understand what each other is saying, even if the absolute meaning is still open to interpretation.

Oh, and why I titled this post "Derridian Nightmares".... your post put in mind of a nightmare I had a couple months ago in which Derrida was alive and well and had come to teach at the college. In the dream he conned me into helping him get a tooth imprint of a woman he was in love with, but was not sure of her identity. At the same time, he was dossing down in the Administrator of Technology's office, who himself was hiding from an irrate faculty because he had given us all ridiculous and mildly insulting email addresses. It was my perogative to find both Derrida in order to deliver this still spit-moist clay tooth mold and to give the administrator a piece of my mind. I never did find the administrator, but I did, as I mentioned, find Derrida fast asleep on a vintage 1970's sofa at the back of said adminstrator's office. We had words and many twenty year old copies of Of Grammatology some with the pages still uncut went crashing to the floor as I put my hands around his neck and began pushing him around. Sundry yellowing pages then went floating through the air as I used some WCW moves on him (he was surprisingly strong!). The dream ended as I gazed on Derrida sitting on the floor rubbing his throat amid strewn remains of Of Grammatology, a small piece of clay with the bite marks of his septagenarian love-interest laying atop one of the torn pages.

I would prefer that you neither deconstruct nor psycho-analyze that dream!

diumenge, de novembre 05, 2006

Noson oer Tachwedd

Roedd neithiwr yn digaloni.

Mi wnes i benderfynu o'r diwedd mynd allan i'r Noson Arth yn un o'r clybiau hoyw yma yn y cylch. Dim y tro cyntaf imi fynd i un ohonon nhw, ond roedd yn fethiant llwyr ta waith. Do, mi welais hen gariadon a phobl eraill oeddwn yn eu hadnabod, ond gadeais i fel y des i mewn, ar ben fy hun. Dwi ddim yn ffitio i mewn i'r sîn hoyw. Dwi ddim yn deall y rheoli. Dwi'n gallu gweithio o flaen twrf enfawr o bobl, dwi'n gallu dysgu, gwneud pob dim gan fod yn gymeriad cyhoeddus, ond yno, popeth 'mod i'n ei wybod am sut i drefnu pobl, am sut mae pobl yn behafio yn hedfan yn syth trwy'r drws. Minnau, dwi am siarad â rhywun, mynd ar ddyddiad bach gwych, ac wedyn os daw popeth yn iawn, mynd yn ôl i'w le neu i fy lle i, a gweld os oes rhywfath o chemeg yno, yn cofleidio a dal dwylo a chusanu.

Ond minnau, dwi'n byw mewn ffantasi. 'Sdim llawer o ddiddodeb ganddyn nhw yn y fath hon o beth. Maen nhw eisiau imi fod yn ffantasi iddyn nhw, i dynnu fy lle mewn byd ffug lle nad wyf i ddim yn gallu bodoli. Does na'r nerth na'r gallu gennyf i lenwi'r lle gwag yn eu bywydau nhw. Swn i eisiau dweud calonnau, ond dwi'm yn saf os oes calonnau ganddynt. Dyn pob dydd ydw i hyd at hyn, neb arbennig, a siŵr o fod, dim dyn sy'n cerdded allan o ryw fideo chwilboeth. Hyd at fy mreuddwydion perthnasol, dwi ddim ond eisiau rhywbeth syml, ond mor syml ag ydy, mae o mor ffug hefyd. Mae gen i anrheg syml i'w gynnig, efallai mor syml nad oes neb sydd amdano fo, oherwydd breuddwyd cyffredin ydy. Os hwnnw yw'r achos, mae'n well 'da fi atal y breuddwyd rŵan, neu, o leiaf, atal breuddwydio.

Yn anffodus iawn imi ac i'm breuddwyd bach cul, rwyf yn canfod fy hun ar goll rŵan, mewn coed du a dwfn, mewn byd sydd yn bodoli yn yr huis clos, ond y lleill sydd yn bodoli yn yr un uffern â fi, dydyn nhw ddim, eu hunain yn uffern im, yn bell beth. Y Cŵn Annwn ydyn nhw, a'u lleisiau yn gysur imi erbyn hyn fel rwyf yn dal at y daith wyrgam i'r bedd. Fel mae cyfarth y Cŵn Annwn yn uwch pan fydd dy farwolaeth ymhell i ffwrdd, mae lleisiau yr unau câr yn swyn imi rŵan, oherwydd rwyf yn eu clywed o hyd. Yn y chwedl am y Cŵn Annwn, mae eu cyfarth yn tawelu ac yn tawelu fel y maen nhw'n dod yn agosach atat ti ac at awr dy farwolaeth. Erbyn hyn, mae pobl gâr yn fy nghylch o hyd, ond maen nhw'n mynd y brin. Mae'r teulu bron i gyd wedi ymadael erbyn hyn; yn fuan dim ond cyfeillion fydd. Mae mam yn hen ac mae fy mrawd yn wael ac yn wan. Dwi ddim yn meddwl yn bydd o'n byw yn hen. Felly, fel y dringaf i i mewn i'r bedd bach oer fy huis clos fydd dim y bobl yn fy nghylch i, ond tawelwch eu hysbrydion pan fyddaf yn hiraethu am gyfarth eu gyddfau.

Fy nhynged: Byddaf yn marw yn hŷn, neu'n hen ac yn unig, dim ond fy nghofion fydd yn gysur imi wrth y munudau curus a phoenus olaf. Efallai mae bwriad yn y bydysawd angwybodadwy hwn wedi'r cwbl. Efallai rwyf yn byw trwy felltith, rhyw hen felltith wedi'w roi arnaf bywyd neu fywydau yn ôl. Rwyf yn ei obeithio, yn wir ac yn ddwfn. Dwi eisiau iddi fod yn bwynt i'r poen a chur sydd yn llenwi'm enaid. Dim hogyn perffaith oeddwn yn y bywyd hwn o bell ffordd, ond wnes i ddim byd i deilyngu marw heb neb i dynnu fy ngorff i'r amlosgfa.