Erthygl ar yr un pwnc yn Times Llundain, ond yn llawer mwy cefnogol. Diddorol i glywed hyn gan bapur Murdoch. Mae’n ateb un o’r pwyntiau gwallus yr erthygl NYT, ynglyn â’r posiblrwydd y bydd Saesneg yn esgor ar sawl is-iaith newydd, fel wnaeth Lladin:

Unlike other, earlier world languages, modern English will never split off into distinct parallel forms, as the Romance languages evolved from Latin. For a new language to emerge requires a degree of cultural isolation, or at least independence, that has become impossible. The world is simply too interconnected, by global technology and a global economy, to think in new words. Intrusive, restless English has made cultural privacy a thing of the past.

Daeth hyn, a’r stori flaenorol, o’r Maes, mewn edefyn gan ddysgwr Cymraeg sy’n byw ym Mosgo. Felly, mae gobaith.

Fading Species and Dying Tongues: When the Two Part Ways – traethawd yn y New York Times. Cywilydd arnyn nhw.

How, really, are the panda and Ubykh equivalent? The panda, once gone, is gone forever. If the information and political will are present, Ubykh can be revived 500 years from now. Hebrew, after all, was brought back from ancient texts into daily use after 2,000 years. Ubykh, a language of Turkey, is a human creation. The panda is not; it is our neighbor, not our invention.

Mae hyn mor lawn o dwyllau mae’n annodd gwybod lle i ddechrau. Does neb yn dweud bod anifeiliaid ac ieithoedd yn gyfystyr. Dydy’r iaith Hebraeg sy’n cael ei siarad nawr ddim yr un iaith (er bod hi’n ddefnyddio llawer o’r un geirfa) ’’r un oedd yn cael ei siarad yn amser Crist – a wnaeth yr iaith honno ddim “marw” 2000 mlynedd yn Ùl.

Ac yn y blaen.

Erthygl am ieithoedd o grym megis Saesneg, Sbaeneg ac Indoneseg, sy’n dinistrio ieithoedd bychain y byd. Dim byd newydd, dweud y gwir.

Erthygl yn y Globe and Mail am “Lydawyr o ddewis”, sy’n cynnwys pethau twp ( In England, the Welsh and Scots are enjoying their own parliaments and official recognition of their independence.) ond pethau diddorol hefyd:

Emmanuel Roy was born in the suburbs of Paris, and was raised, as he says, “completely French in every way.”

Yet the 32-year-old videographer spends his afternoons in a classroom tucked inside an old stone building in the northwestern French city of Rennes, struggling to turn himself into something else entirely. Inside the class, his smooth Parisian French disappears. At the teacher’s orders, he stands up and begins uttering strange-sounding sentences in a guttural Celtic dialect, a tongue that hasn’t been spoken in his family for almost a century.

Mr. Roy is known as a “neo-Breton” — a Frenchman who has moved back to Brittany to recover the language and culture of his distant roots. In his case, his maternal grandmother was the last person in his family to utter a word of Breton. Until quite recently, the teaching of this near-dead tongue was impossible and, in some circumstances, illegal. So within the thick walls of the diwan — Breton for school — there is a mood of happy subversion.