I had gone oor Kornies
I had gone
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I had gone to the monastery.
Pyth yw hemma?langbot langbot
I had gone
Ev a yll neyja.langbot langbot
‘Some people!’ exclaimed Frodo. ‘You mean Otho and Lobelia. How abominable! I would give them Bag End and everything else, if I could get Bilbo back and go off tramping in the country with him. I love the Shire. But I begin to wish, somehow, that I had gone too. I wonder if I shall ever see him again.’
Yw res dhis oberi dy Sul?langbot langbot
If I had my way I /we/ would be gone
Ny wor den vyth hy hanow.langbot langbot
phr. if I had had more m. I would have gone to the restaurant. mara pe moy a vòna dhebm, e wrüssen mos dhe'n bosty. Mongol n., a. Mongol m. -s
Esos ta tre?langbot langbot
Had it not been raining, I would have gone out into the garden and worked for an hour.
Yw hemma dha lyver?langbot langbot
Now there are gone by | Some two hundred years; | I have not had to do with thee, | In flesh nor in blood, without a lie.
Nyns eus pellwolok y’m stevel.langbot langbot
‘I don’t keep water in my pockets,’ said Frodo. ‘We thought you had gone to find some,’ said Pippin, busy setting out the food, and cups. ‘You had better go now.’
Ev a verwis warleni.langbot langbot
Softly caressing her hair As the sun was rising, before my love had awakened Did I see on looking closely That she was silently weeping, hiding her misery? Tear turned to frown And when I spoke... in one leap... Gone was my love, my sweetheart No doubt you would recognise her well No wonder, although my heart’s completely broken: She has left me I long for her She has left me She wants to forget She has left me And it seems I don't matter But she is to blame When I looked up she had gone No longer could I see her, only her track in the yellow corn The dawn sky was red The sun sparkling through leaves and a cow was lowing Though she had disappeared from sight Her anger and cruel words were still with me Gone was my love, my sweetheart. No doubt you would recognise her well. No wonder, although my heart’s completely broken: She has left me I long for her She has left me She wants to forget She has left me And it seems I don't matter But she is to blame But she is to blame But she is to blame But she is to blame
My a wre dos omma.langbot langbot
‘Then I’ll tell you what to think,’ said Maggot. ‘You should never have gone mixing yourself up with Hobbiton folk, Mr. Frodo. Folk are queer up there.’ Sam stirred in his chair, and looked at the farmer with an unfriendly eye. ‘But you were always a reckless lad. When I heard you had left the Brandybucks and gone off to that old Mr. Bilbo, I said that you were going to find trouble. Mark my words, this all comes of those strange doings of Mr. Bilbo’s. His money was got in some strange fashion in foreign parts, they say. Maybe there is some that want to know what has become of the gold and jewels that he buried in the hill of Hobbiton, as I hear?’
Ny gonvedhas Tom.langbot langbot
Frodo was waiting on the step, smiling, but looking rather tired and worried. He welcomed all the callers, but he had not much more to say than before. His reply to all inquiries was simply this: ‘Mr. Bilbo Baggins has gone away; as far as I know, for good.’ Some of the visitors he invited to come inside, as Bilbo had left ‘messages’ for them.
Ty a leveris gow dhe Tom.langbot langbot
Shaking all over from the exertion, I managed to do this – not so gently. I had no strength at all in reserve and marvelled at the fact that the two of us had managed to carry this massive thing so far. I stopped and, trying to control my quivering, listened. No snoring was audible. It was still night and the guard’s snoring had been clearly audible from this distance on the night before. “Anyone there?” came a stern-sounding voice. Bugger – I had been heard by the guard. (What ever happened to the imprecation “friend or foe” that I had been taught in my time as a toy soldier?) Or, maybe, he had merely been awakened by the noise without really hearing it. (Or so I hoped.) I motioned to David to remain still. I heard the guard noisily lifting his rifle – the sound of the thick, woven strap casually slapping the butt was quite distinctive for me. The sound of heavy boots, equally familiar, started approaching us. Fight or flight? Neither – stay put! “Anyone there?” the voice repeated, with perceptible uncertainty. Uncertainty? Yes, that’s what we wanted. I decided we should stay put and, soon the footsteps retreated without the guard having seen us. I knew the plan had gone too far for us to abandon without raising suspicion – and, probably, initiating a detailed search of the cemetery which, as far as I knew, had not previously been done. (After all, who hides in a cemetery?) David and I stood, frozen to the spot for about twenty minutes before we heard the resumption of the guard’s snoring. Time to move. The main driveway to the cemetery was, unfortunately, relatively flat. So, for silent running, it needed both of us to push the khaki-coloured ute, me from the driver’s wheel and David from the rear. (It took some little time to indicate to him what it was that I required but I needed his strength. So, I persisted until he understood.)
“A vyn’ta y brena?” “Mynnav.”langbot langbot
Frodo himself, after the first shock, found that being his own master and the Mr. Baggins of Bag End was rather pleasant. For some years he was quite happy and did not worry much about the future. But half unknown to himself the regret that he had not gone with Bilbo was steadily growing. He found himself wondering at times, especially in the autumn, about the wild lands, and strange visions of mountains that he had never seen came into his dreams. He began to say to himself: ‘Perhaps I shall cross the River myself one day.’ To which the other half of his mind always replied: ‘Not yet.’
Ny evav aga dowr.langbot langbot
Who you been loving since I been gone A long tall man with a red coat on Good-for-nothing-baby you've been doing me wrong Who you been loving since I been gone Who you been loving since I been gone Who's been playing around with you A real cool cat with eyes of blue Trifling baby are you being true Who's been fooling around with you Who's been fooling around with you Somebody saw you at the break of day Dining and a-dancing in the cabaret He was long and tall, he had plenty of cash He had a red Cadillac and a black mustache He held your hand and he sang you a song Who you been loving since I been gone Who you been loving since I been gone Who's been playing around with you A real cool cat with eyes of blue Trifling baby are you being true Who's been fooling around with you Who's been fooling around with you Somebody saw you at the break of day Dining and a-dancing in the cabaret He was long and tall, he had plenty of cash He had a red Cadillac and a black mustache He held your hand and he sang you a song Who you been loving since I been gone Who you been loving since I been gone
Ple’ma’n arghantti?langbot langbot
There was, however, another figure in that (formerly) leading jeep. He started waving his arms about and pointing at the driver in a distinctly unfriendly way. Naturally, both of these people were too far away for me to hear what was being said – or even to make out their uniforms – but the body language was pretty clear. The gesticulating one was probably an unhappy officer and the driver was probably just a ‘grunt’. In any event, contrary to common sense, (i.e. to just wait until the engine cooled down and refill the radiator) I saw the ‘grunt’ driver start trudging back along the road towards the base, leaving the ‘officer’ behind (the rest of the convoy having long since passed by.) “What an unreasonable moron that officer must be,” I thought – but gave it no more consideration than that. As I’ve said, the daylight was waning and I had, maybe, 15 minutes to get back to David’s and my little hidey-hole. So, I started climbing, very carefully, back down the derelict and rickety watch-tower. (But I must say that going down was definitely less strenuous than climbing up.) When I neared the bottom, I leapt down the last few feet. I shouldn’t have done that because I fell heavily and, predictably, my legs buckled beneath me once again. But there was no real harm done. I picked myself up and called for David. No response. “Come on, Mate,” I called. “We’ve gotta get back to the tunnel. The soldiers are out looking for us ....” Still no response. “... and it’s getting dark,” I added, hopefully. David was gone. Just gone. Shit! Optimistically, I thought that, maybe, he’d gotten bored and gone back to the tunnel under his own steam. After all, he knew where it was because he’d located it in the first place, while I had been asleep. So, I hastened back to the tunnel and squeezed myself through the entrance. Still no sign of David.
Yth esov vy ow tyski Baskek.langbot langbot
The officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced them. I was singularly at ease. They sat, and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears: but still they sat and still chatted. The ringing became more distinct:—It continued and became more distinct: I talked more freely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gained definiteness—until, at length, I found that the noise was not within my ears.
Yw da genes glaw?langbot langbot
The sound of surf echoes within the adits Hark the gulls that seem to mock These mines are now but a curiosity A redundant miner, of little account Suddenly, before me I saw her So sweet that she was And when she spoke, my despair Took flight And when she offered me a shoulder My pride was gone When I felt useless, she soon comforted me In the Plen an Gwari by chance I encountered her As she was walking alone with her dog Boldly her name I enquired of her “Tamsin,” she replied to me Suddenly, before me I saw her So sweet that she was And when she spoke, my despair Took flight And when she offered me a shoulder My pride was gone When I felt useless, she soon comforted me What did my unemployment matter to me Now I had met Tamsin? And every evening we would meet I was a happy man, happy indeed The sound of surf echoes within the adits Listen to the skylark singing so sweetly Though these mines are now but a curiosity Look! Me and Tamsin are husband and wife Suddenly, before me I saw her So sweet that she was And when she spoke, my despair Took flight And when she offered me a shoulder My pride was gone When I felt useless, she soon comforted me Nothing matters anymore, Tamsin loves me
Fatla genes?langbot langbot
VENTURING OUT. I didn’t get any more out of him for the rest of the time we were there either. The attempt at getting David to play cards had backfired badly. He withdrew from me and refused to interact – cards were definitely off his agenda. In fact, I woke one night to find him shredding the entire pack – card by card. I’m not sure how many days we stayed in the crypt. I didn’t specifically count and the difference between daylight and night-time inside the crypt was not always clear-cut. Let’s just say we were there a few days before I even considered leaving. After all, we were warm enough, safe from intruders (no- one ever came knocking) and, for the time being, there was ample food and water . But we couldn’t stay there forever, could we? Within 48 hours or so of our taking shelter in the crypt, the fighting seemed to have stopped. Gunfire had dwindled from merely sporadic to non-existent. There were no audible groans, screams or cries of panic. From this, I deduced that the zombies hereabouts were a spent force – if not altogether extinct. So, if I ventured out in the dead of night without David, I was now unlikely to be eaten – but would I be shot? That was the question. How many of the soldiers remained in place after the battle was done and how many had moved onto where they were now more needed. I would have to check it out – 4.00 am on a moonless night seemed like a good time to start. Before I left, I told David that I would be gone for a short time but that I would return very soon. He looked at me impassively. Did he understand what I had said? I asked him. He remained impassive. As I said, he had been quite withdrawn of late – since the abortive card game – and maybe he just didn’t care as much about me anymore. Who would know? I decided I needed to do my reconnaissance whether or not David understood – or cared.
Hemm yw kig da.langbot langbot
“T’” I said. (This time, I couldn’t even get the first word out – but the nurse understood my meaning well enough.) The short version was this: Ingrid and the Captain had burst into the infirmary late last night, furiously screaming and yelling at each other – their three confused goons in tow. I was on a hospital trolley, nine parts dead. Apparently, Ingrid had repeatedly called the Captain an ‘insane murderer’ – to which the Captain had, equally repeatedly, responded: “That’s insubordination, Doctor. I am your superior officer. You have assaulted me. You have disobeyed my direct order. I will have you court-martialled. I will! You can count on it.” (Or something along those lines.) This unseemly screaming match had apparently gone on for half an hour or more – during which time the nursing staff had quietly spirited me away and taken charge. They made sure that the spark of life within me had kept glowing until a doctor – i.e. some other doctor – could attend to me. The nurses had kept me going. But, according to the nurse attending me, it was not they who had revived me in the first place. According to the nurse, the ‘direct order’ that Ingrid had disobeyed was to leave me inside the decompression chamber after all signs of life had disappeared. It seems she had forcibly shoved Dr Mengele aside, rapidly opened the decompression chamber, dragged out my lifeless form – and successfully performed CPR on me. Hmm. Most curious behaviour. I still did not know what David had been doing all this time but hoped that I would find out – when I stopped feeling like complete shit. The raking coughing fits slowed a little and the nurse gave me some pain relief. I believe I slept for a time. When next I awoke, Ingrid was standing beside my bed, checking my charts. I supposed I ought to have thanked her because, despite all the abject cruelty in which she had participated, in the final analysis, she had saved my miserable neck.
Hi yw pymp bloodh.langbot langbot
‘I have only just remembered, sir. It was like this: when I got back to our hole yesterday evening with the key, my dad, he says to me: Hello, Sam! he says. I thought you were away with Mr. Frodo this morning. There’s been a strange customer asking for Mr. Baggins of Bag End, and he’s only just gone. I’ve sent him on to Bucklebury. Not that I liked the sound of him. He seemed mighty put out, when I told him Mr. Baggins had left his old home for good. Hissed at me, he did. It gave me quite a shudder. What sort of a fellow was he? says I to the Gaffer. I don’t know, says he; but he wasn’t a hobbit. He was tall and black-like, and he stooped aver me. I reckon it was one of the Big Folk from foreign parts. He spoke funny.
Res yw dhyn gul hemma.langbot langbot
“... and, lo, my prayers were answered and an apparition of the BVM entered the crypt to come to our aid in the time of great need.” “What?” I said, incredulous. “The Blessed Virgin Mary suddenly came to this non-descript family crypt?” (Paul had gone loopier than Charles – or so it seemed.) “Yea, verily,” said Paul, pointing to a shattered tomb ornament that lay on the floor nearby. “The Blessed Virgin solemnly instructed me to take to my bosom a graven likeness of herself and, wielding it with all my might, to smite mine enemies unto their death. Thus, divinely inspired, did I.” Was Paul serious? Did it really matter? “Amen,” said I. “So, you whacked the ‘roundhead’ on his noggin with a statue of Mary.” “All in accordance with Holy Writ,” stated Paul. “Truly, I am now a latter-day David.” David, who had not been paying much attention to this drivel, heard his name and grunted disapprovingly. “Okay, whatever,” I said. Charles thought he was a headless English monarch and now Paul thought he was the poet-king of the ancient Israelites, divinely inspired by the Blessed Virgin Mary. Okay. Let’s deal with that, shall we? Paul, too, was an interesting character. We’d met briefly before our University days – at a French seminar at Monash University. I clearly remember my first encounter with him. I remember him being surrounded by a bunch of gorgeous young women and richly entertaining them with his charm and his wit. And, no, I had not been jealous – well, not very much, anyway. (I simply didn’t advertise my own charm and wit quite so shamelessly – that’s my story, anyway)
Yma’gan kath y’n gegin.langbot langbot
‘Courage is found in unlikely places,’ said Gildor. ‘Be of good hope! Sleep now! In the morning we shall have gone; but we will send our messages through the lands. The Wandering Companies shall know of your journey, and those that have power for good shall be on the watch. I name you Elf-friend; and may the stars shine upon the end of your road! Seldom have we had such delight in strangers, and it is fair to hear words of the Ancient Speech from the lips of other wanderers in the world.’
Ow hwor yw hi.langbot langbot
After I composed myself, I realised that we had the rest of the day to fill in. I’m sure David would happily have gone back to the Hell-hole at Union House – so that he could lounge around with his zombie mates. But I was not going to cross swords again with that bitch-face “Gween” if I could possibly help it. “Hey, Dave! I’ve got a treat for you,” I exclaimed suddenly. “I’m going to take you to the movies.” I gave him no choice and firmly herded him out of Genevieve’s and into the Bug House. I had no idea if he still remembered what a movie was but I didn’t care. David was going to the movies whether he liked it or not. The shabby foyer of the Bug House was relatively untouched. There must have been no-one in it when the Apocalypse passed through. Did it happen at mid-day or thereabouts? No ‘session time’ then, I suppose – not during the week at a small single-screen suburban theatre. (Can you remember what one of those was?) I walked up the narrow staircase to the projection room. Now, you may think I would have no chance of getting the projector operating so that we would view a movie. But that’s where you’d be wrong. Dead wrong. This was in the days before video recorders, well before DVD’s, Blue-Ray and so on. So, schoolteachers needed to know how to operate simple movie projectors to show educational films to their classes. I was no teacher – but my dad was! Dad had done a proper Bell and Howell course and come out with a proper projectionist certificate – very pretty, very impressive. I asked him to bring the school projector home and show me how it worked. He obliged my demands and thus I knew the rudiments of the projectionist’s craft. That said, the projectors (there were 2) that confronted me in the projectionist room of the Carlton Movie House were very different to the one that Dad had brought home from school. A lot bigger. A lot more buttons and levers. I got one of them working in under half an hour (but I think I might have, sort of, broken the other one – sorry, Mr Projectionist).
Pur wynsek yw an gewer.langbot langbot
Why was that? Just as many girls had been bitten – maybe more. Some had gone down with a fever but never real bad. No, not real bad. In a day or two, there was no more fever, no more symptoms at all. But the guys? Well, every one that had been bitten was now gone – except David. And finally, he, too, stood on the threshold of his next existence (if ‘existence’ was an apt word for what the others had become.) He moaned a little. I poured a little water on his lips. Mopped his brow. He relaxed and settled again. “Not long to go now, Mate,” I said, knowing he could not hear me. “But I’m still here. I won’t leave you.” I knew I would not leave him. Not ever. It was inconceivable. How had it come to this: a bunch of starving, scared kids holed up in a university library, surrounded by a mob of creatures that loitered noisily outside, wishing for nothing but to devour them? There had been no warning, no warning at all. This is how it was for us: David and I were sitting in a French lecture, ground floor, Redmond Barry Building, taking in lots about “Les philosophes”, when bang! In burst eight, ten, maybe a dozen of them, roaring and tearing, roaring and tearing. We thought it was a joke at first, some sort of student prank for ‘Prosh Week’. Only it wasn’t Prosh Week. And then one of the things seized the lecturer and tore her throat clean out, and when her arterial blood squirted some feet in the air, David and I knew it was no prank. The screaming started. Shrill, panicked screaming. The students were mainly female – David and I were very definitely in the minority. (We had liked it that way.) The creatures then hurled themselves at those in the auditorium – at those in the front rows, the most studious – and started tearing at them. More blood, much more blood, shredded clothing and flesh.
Losow a dyv.langbot langbot
No doubt I now grew very pale;—but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased—and what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound—much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath—and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly—more vehemently; but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why would they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men—but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed—I raved—I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder—louder—louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God!—no, no! They heard!—they suspected!—they knew!—they were making a mockery of my horror!-this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! and now—again!—hark! louder! louder! louder! louder!
Nyns eus nown dhymm.langbot langbot
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