Mae yna bobol sy'n dweud fod y byd yn bryfedog iawn weithiau.

There are people who say the world feels insect-like at times.

Wrtihdroi'r drws i'r ward seiciatryddol, teimlodd Aneira yr un bryfedogedd hwnnw.

As Aneira opened the door to the psychiatric ward, she felt that same insect-like sensation.

Canol dydd ar ward lydan gyda waliau gwyn heb liw na bywyd.

Midday on a wide ward with white walls devoid of color or life.

Yno roedd Aneira, nyrs garedig gyda breuddwydion o fod yn artist.

There was Aneira, a kind nurse with dreams of becoming an artist.

Ond roedd yntau'n unig a llonydd, Gwion.

But there he was, alone and quiet, Gwion.

Dyn ifanc, tawel gydag eneidiau dychrynedig yn ei lygaid.

A young, quiet man with haunted souls in his eyes.

Roedd heddiw yn arbennig.

Today was special.

Roedd Halloween, ond yn fwy na hyn, roedd Aneira wedi perswadio’r meddyg i ganiatáu iddynt fynd ar daith tren drwy'r Bannau Brycheiniog.

It was Halloween, but more than that, Aneira had persuaded the doctor to allow them to take a train ride through the Brecon Beacons.

Roedd y syniad yn gam dadleuol i rai, ond roedd Aneira wedi gweld talent celfyddydol yn Gwion.

The idea was controversial to some, but Aneira had seen artistic talent in Gwion.

Ar y tren oedden nhw, cloncian dros y traciau, a'r golygfeydd o hydref yn ymestyn allan fel taprestr lliwgar.

They were on the train, clattering over the tracks, with the autumn scenery stretching out like a colorful tapestry.

Wrth i'r tren symud drwy niwl trwchus, cofiwyd Gwion ei hun yn ddifrifol.

As the train moved through thick fog, Gwion found himself lost in a maze of toxic memories.

Ond roedd Aneira yn ei ochr, gyda’i geiriau tawel a'i brwshys paent.

But Aneira was at his side, with her gentle words and paintbrushes.

“Edrych, Gwion,” meddai'n feddal, “Gad i'r dirwedd yma fod dy hwylusydd.

"Look, Gwion," she said softly, "Let this landscape be your guide.

Paentia sut mae'n teimlo.”

Paint how it feels."

Dechrauodd Gwion, yn gyntaf yn betrusgar, ond yna â mwy o hyder.

Gwion began, at first hesitantly, but then with more confidence.

Gweithiodd ei frwsh dros y papur.

He worked his brush over the paper.

Lluniwyd y mynyddoedd, y coed a'r niwl yn cydblethu'n fwrlwm o liwiau.

The mountains, trees, and mist were drawn, interweaving into a swirl of colors.

Roedd yr amser yn pasio, a phan wnaeth y tren stopio, roedd y darlun wedi ei gwblhau.

Time passed, and when the train stopped, the painting was complete.

Yno ar y papur oedd llethrau’r Bannau, llawn mydr a dirgelwch.

There on the paper were the slopes of the Beacons, full of rhythm and mystery.

Teimlodd Gwion dop yn colli ei faich prin.

Gwion felt the burden on his mind lighten just a little.

“Rydych chi wedi gwneud hyn, Gwion,” meddai Aneira yn wên eang.

"You've done this, Gwion," said Aneira with a wide smile.

Roedd y paint, fel gobaith, yn disgleirio yn y golau cynnil.

The paint, like hope, gleamed in the subtle light.

Dywedodd hi dim yn fwy, ond gwybododd Aneira yr effaith arno.

She said nothing more, but Aneira understood its impact on him.

Yn raddol, fe ddysgodd Gwion i ymddiried, tra roedd Aneira yn casglu hyder yn ei gwaith ac yn ei chreadigrwydd.

Gradually, Gwion learned to trust, while Aneira gathered confidence in her work and creativity.

Ac fel hynny, daeth diwedd y daith.

And like that, the journey came to an end.

Cludo i ffordd newydd a silaen trwy eucledd.

They were transported to a new path and clear direction through the haze.

Mae byd byth werthydd, ond o'r diwrnod hwnnw ymlaen, roedd Aneira a Gwion wedi dechrau eu ffordd.

The world is never perfect, but from that day on, Aneira and Gwion began their way.

Un i gefnu a’i hatgofion, y llall i ddarganfod moroedd o liw a posibilrwydd.

One to leave behind their memories, the other to discover oceans of color and possibility.