English

Sant Barrwg

Yn ôl y gred, ffurf wreiddiol enw Ynys y Barri oedd Ynys Sant Barrwg ac y mae’n cyfeirio at hanes anffodus Sant Barrwg.

Sant Celtaidd o’r 6ed ganrif oedd Sant Barrwg a disgybl Sant Cadog, a sefydlodd fynachlog Llancarfan, tua 7 milltir i ffwrdd. Mae olion eglwys ymroddedig iddo ar Ynys y Barri, sy’n debygol o fod wedi ei adeiladu ar ddechrau’r 8fed ganrif. Tybiwyd i’r eglwys oroesi, gydag addasiadau, tan yr 17fed ganrif pan orchuddiwyd gan dywod. Yna, yn 1894 a 1895 darganfyddwyd drwy waith cloddio nid yn unig olion yr eglwys, ond hefyd ffynnon sanctaidd a bedd torfol. Paham gladdwyd miloedd o gyrff yma pan ond dau cartref ar y mwyaf fu ar yr ynys? Roedd eglwys Sant Barrwg yn gyrchfan i bererinion ac fel ynys sanctaidd, daethpwyd a chyrff yma i’w claddu.

Gwrandewch i’r stori llawn isod, neu os allwch ymweld â Ynys y Barri, beth am ddilyn y daith ddywysedig yn y recordiad?

Mae stori Sant Barrwg yn tanio’r dychymyg ac mae sawl fersiwn ohoni, gyda amrywiadau o fanylion a phwyslais. Dehongliad hardd arall yw’r animeiddiad hwn, sy’n llawn empathi ar gyfer sefyllfa Sant Barrwg.

The story has also been interpreted from St Cadoc’s point of view, as in the poem below by Anna Lewis.

Cadog

I saw Barruc turned over and over
against the smart sand, his clothes cut
by the rocks to strips, limbs and head

daubed with watery blood.
We buried him at the top of the cliff,
out of the sharpest edge of the wind.

The waves didn’t calm at all,
but fought and threw each other down;
his broken boat swung out beyond the rocks,

the sun began to drop, and I grew hungry.
I bent beneath the salted trees,
sent men once more along the beach.

When they returned, they brought
a salmon longer than my arm,
its trunk thicker than mine;

it lay before me, beyond hope,
and shrugged from side to side.
I put my knife beneath its throat,

slit and folded back the white leaves
of its belly – and there, among dry
and empty entrails – my book:

the book Barruc had lost on Echni,
the book I’d sent him to retrieve.
Its pages clean, the covers smooth.

The tide by then was drawing out,
stars hardened in the west,
and beneath the cliff we built a fire

to grill that fish. I still can taste
the smoke, the salt, the undernote of ink,
glory written through its flesh. Anna Lewis

Unwaith y flwyddyn, ar Ddiwrnod Gwledd Sant Barrwg, 27ain o Fedi, cynhelir gwasanaeth yma yn adfeilion y capel hynafol. Darganfod mwy yma.