Horse Point oor Kornies

Horse Point

Vertalings in die woordeboek Engels - Kornies

Penn Margh

Soortgelyke frases

point of horse
poynt margh

voorbeelde

Horse Point
/ Penn Margh / / /

point of horse
poynt margh [tavoseth] disamstyryans: spot where vein divides into branches

point of horse spot where vein divides into branches– Orchard 1991 poynt margh / LAVAR TERMONIETH: BALWEYTH [dictionary]
point of horse spot where vein divides into branches– Orchard 1991 poynt margh / LAVAR TERMONIETH: BALWEYTH [gerlyver]

poynt margh / LAVAR spot where vein divides into branches– Orchard 1991 point of horse TERMONIETH: BALWEYTH [dictionary]
poynt margh / LAVAR spot where vein divides into branches– Orchard 1991 point of horse TERMONIETH: BALWEYTH [gerlyver]

point of horse
/ poynt margh / / tavoseth /

point of horse
/ poynt margh / / /

point of horse
[lavaren] poynt margh [avisyansow: spot where vein divides into branches– Orchard 1991 ]

poynt margh / LAVAR spot where vein divides into branches– Orchard 1991 point of horse TERMONIETH: BALWEYTH
poynt margh / LAVAR spot where vein divides into branches– Orchard 1991 point of horse TERMONIETH: BALWEYTH

point of horse
spot where vein divides into branches– Orchard 1991 / poynt margh / idiom /

point of horse spot where vein divides into branches– Orchard 1991 poynt margh / LAVAR TERMONIETH: BALWEYTH
point of horse spot where vein divides into branches– Orchard 1991 poynt margh / LAVAR TERMONIETH: BALWEYTH

The sound of hoofs stopped. As Frodo watched he saw something dark pass across the lighter space between two trees, and then halt. It looked like the black shade of a horse led by a smaller black shadow. The black shadow stood close to the point where they had left the path, and it swayed from side to side. Frodo thought he heard the sound of snuffling. The shadow bent to the ground, and then began to crawl towards him.
Son a garnow a hedhis. Dell viras Frodo, ev a welas neppyth tewl a dremenas a-dreus aswa splanna ynter diw wydhenn, ha hedhi. Y semlant o haval dhe skeus du a vargh hembrenkys gans skeus byghanna. An skeus du a sevis nes dhe’n le may hwrussens i gasa an hyns, ha leska diworth unn du dh’y gila. Frodo a dybis ev dhe glywes son goverek. An skeus a omblegyas dhe’n leur ha dalleth kramya war-tu hag ev.

They waited anxiously for him to go on. ‘Well,’ the farmer continued, approaching his point with slow relish, ‘he came riding on a big black horse in at the gate, which happened to be open, and right up to my door. All black he was himself, too, and cloaked and hooded up, as if he did not want to be known. “Now what in the Shire can he want?” I thought to myself. We don’t see many of the Big Folk over the border; and anyway I had never heard of any like this black fellow.
I a wortas orth y eryow yn ter. ‘Wel,’ an tiek a besyas, ow nesa dh’y boynt gans delit lent, ‘ev a dheuth ow marghogeth war margh du bras, dres an yet o igor dre jons, bys yn ow daras a-rag. Du yn tien o ev y honan, ynwedh, ha mantelys ha koghys, ny vynnas ev bos aswonnys dell hevel. “Pandr’a vynn eev y’n Shayr?” my a omdybis. Ny welyn ni lies a’n Gwerin Bras dhe’n tu ma an amal: hag ynwedh, nevra ny wrug vy klywes travyth yn kever tus haval orth an gwas du ma.

Well, he was a doctor and a Captain – and he had a very good opinion of himself as a result. But serous cases of over-inflated pride need urgently to be pricked , don’t they? (And I knew just the person to do it.) I bided my time. Eventually, the lecture came to an end – even David had long since ceased roaring and lapsed into a torpor. “I will take any questions from the floor,” stated the Captain. A few perfunctory and obvious questions were posed and answered – more or less correctly. Then: “Captain, can zombies talk?” “No,” asserted the Captain. “Zombies do not possess the power of speech. They have never been known to utter a single word. In fact, ...” This was my chance to do some pricking. “I beg to differ,” I interrupted. “I have met several talking zombies. Most of them spoke in single words – but a few could form complete sentences of a non- complex kind.” This was, of course, a lie – or, at best, a major exaggeration – but the audience, as one, turned to look at me. I think they had assumed that I could not speak either . “Silence!” ordered the Captain. (Since I was daring to upstage him in his finest hour .) But I was in front of a public audience. I was not to be silenced as easily as all that. “Oh, come on, Captain. These fine young GI’s deserve to hear it from the horse’s mouth. They need to know everything they can about creatures like my brother, David. Their lives will undoubtedly depend on it once they leave here.” “I demand you remain silent, prisoner!” spat the Captain. I turned and pointed at the creature beside me in the cage – who made a pathetic groan (again, right on cue!) I felt the ‘mood of the meeting’ might be turning. I played for sympathy.
Wel, medhek ha Kapten o – ha’y dybyans ev yn y gever y honan o ughel dres eghenn. Byttegyns, pan eus goeth dhe nebonan yw gorhwythys res yw poran y biga, a nyns ywa? (Ha my a wodhya an gour gwiw rag y wul.) Yth esen ow kortos bys pan o gwiw an termyn ynwedh. Wor’tiwedh, y hworfennas an areth – ha Davydh re hedhsa bedhygla dres termyn hir ha koedha yn eghenn a gosk. “My a wra dhegemmeres nebes govynnow dhiworth an woslowysi,” yn-medh an Kapten. Yth esa nebes govynnow sempel lowr a veu gorthybys yn ewn – moy po le. Hag ena: “A Gapten. A yll an zombis kewsel?” “Na yllons,” yn-medh an Kapten, meur y surneth. “Nyns yw galloes kewsel dhe’n zombis. Ny vons i nevra godhvedhys leverel ger vyth. Yn hwir, ...” Hemm o’m chons dhe wul nebes pigans. “Edrek a’m beus na allav assentya,” a wodorris vy. “My re dheuth erbynn lies zombi a ylli kewsel. Rann vrassa anedha a gewsis unn er unnsel po dew martesen – mes yth esa nebes yntredha a ylli gul lavarow dien, sempel lowr aga furv.” Hemm o gow, heb mar – po, y’n gwella, gorlywans bras – mes an woslowysi, warbarth, a dreylyas rag mires orthymm. My a grys i dhe dhesevos na yllyn kewsel – kepar ha’m broder. “Taw taves!” a erghis an Kapten. (Drefenn my dhe vedha y ankombra yn y dekka our.) Byttegyns, ottavy a-dherag an woslowysi, meur aga niver. Nyns o mar es dhe wul dhymm bos tawesek. “A, bydh lel, a Gapten! Yma’n soudoryon deg ma gwiw dh’y glywyes yn ewn dhiworth an bennfenten. Res yw dhedha godhvos puptra oll a-dro dhe greadoryon kepar ha’m broder, Davydh y hanow. Heb dhout, y fydh ow kregi aga bywnansow war an derivadow ma pan dhiberthons alemma.” “My a ergh dhis bos tawesek, ‘brisner!” a drewas an Kapten. My a dreylyas ha poyntya dhe’n kreador rybov y’n vagh. Ev a wrug hanasas truedhek (unnweyth arta, kepar ha pan eus lostlavar!) Y krysyn bos ow chanjya ‘cher an kuntellyans’. My a assayas dhe waynya y dregeredh.