If I had known, I would have done it.
Eneth a koffen, my a'n gwressa. · Menja vy bes goffos hedna, my a wressa y wul. · Menjama bes godhvos, my a venja y wul. · Menjama bes goffos, my a venja y wul. · Unweyth a kodhven, my a'n gwrussa.
I had had oor Kornies
I had had
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I had had
Yma ki gwynn dhodho.langbot langbot
I had had
My a vynn ri dhodho an lyver a-vorow.langbot langbot
I had had
Peswardhek bloodh warn ugens ov.langbot langbot
I had had
Yma dhymm ki gwynn ha du.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
Homm yw ow whor.langbot langbot
I know I had it on when I had my tea
Res yw dhymm pareusi aga hansel.langbot langbot
I had still held a vague hope; rather, I had kept a lifelong habit of mind.
Res yw dhyn mos lemmyn.langbot langbot
had I known (if I had known)
I a bonyas.langbot langbot
had I known (if I had known)
Nyns yw res dhymm studhya haneth.langbot langbot
had I known (if I had known)
Yma dhymm kath ha ki.langbot langbot
had I known (if I had known)
Diwedhes yw.langbot langbot
had I known (if I had known)
Mar pe arghans lowr dhymm, prena karr-tan teg a wrussen.langbot langbot
‘All the same,’ said Frodo, ‘even if Bilbo could not kill Gollum, I wish he had not kept the Ring. I wish he had never found it, and that I had not got it! Why did you let me keep it? Why didn’t you make me throw it away, or, or destroy it?’
Nyns yw da genev kerdhes.langbot langbot
‘The Gaffer can’t be blamed anyway,’ said Frodo. ‘As a matter of fact I heard him talking to a stranger, who seemed to be inquiring for me, and I nearly went and asked him who it was. I wish I had, or you had told me about it before. I might have been more careful on the road.’
Yma va ow ponya.langbot langbot
It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture—a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees—very gradually—I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.
Yma dhodho mab aral.langbot langbot
How had this bastard known what I was looking for – and how had he found it? My own brain had been switched off for an hour or more – so he couldn’t have been tapping into me. Could he? Maybe I had been dreaming? If so, what about? I retrieved the kitbag of supplies that the Sergeant had given us – and which David had immediately dumped when I fell asleep. We squeezed into the entrance to the tunnel – which required a little excavation before it would let us pass – and travelled inside as far as we dared (a couple of hundred metres, maybe.) Away from the entrance, we had to use ‘the touch method’ to make our way since, as far as I could see in the kitbag of supplies, we did not have a torch. My claustrophobia returned but David, as always, was okay. I slept again. He fell into a torpor. We stayed that way, I guess, for about 24 hours since the sun was, once again, high in the sky by the time we emerged again.
Yma hi ow kul glaw arta.langbot langbot
I had not had a cold shower for years. I had not had a shower of any description since Day One. David wasn’t the only one who stank. Having filled the watering can, I stood in the corner near the tap – over the small drain – and, lifting the can above my head, played the sprinkling water over my grimy, sweaty and bloody body. I shivered from the shock of the cold water but, almost immediately, felt refreshed and reinvigorated. The muck that was caked on my skin and in my hair fell away – thanks to some fragrant soap that I was using liberally – and that, I presumed, had also been ‘liberated’ from the gatekeeper’s residence. David’s dead eyes observed the cleansing of my body with no obvious emotion. In the back of my mind, I knew that I had to get David cleaned up if ever I were to be able to pass him off as a living soul – and effect an escape from the ‘war- zone’. How much resistance to this would he put up when I insisted on this? Having dried myself – using an equally ‘liberated’ towel – I stood looking at David. He returned the stare. (He was, at least, exceptionally good at that.) “David?” I said. “Your turn now – you’re a very dirty little boy!” He seemed to like being babied by me. Maybe it evoked some distant memory of his childhood, when Mum used to scold us for being such ‘grubs’ (which we were). I can’t be sure, of course, but, in any event, he rose to his feet and approached. He stood in front of me like a small child who could not undo his buttons. (In fact, I think he may have lost so much dexterity that this task was now beyond him.) I started to undo his blood-stained rags and he did not offer a protest. Soon, he stood naked and, like a small child, waited obediently for his bath. I gently bathed his greying skin, patched with tape the odd tear in his flesh that he had suffered as a result of recent carnal activities – and then shed a tear over what had become of my handsome brother.
Lowen yw Ken.langbot langbot
‘Oh, not what he told the dwarves and put in his book,’ said Frodo. ‘He told me the true story soon after I came to live here. He said you had pestered him till he told you, so I had better know too. "No secrets between us, Frodo," he said; "but they are not to go any further. It’s mine anyway."‘
An re ma yw skeusennow koth.langbot langbot
phr. I have a d. ma hendres dhebm; fig. ma govenek dhebm; I had a d. my a veu hendres; I dreamt my a henrosas RD; you're dreaming ma hendres dhewgh; J. had a d. Joseph a veu hendres WR
Yw ow gorthyp ewn?langbot langbot
It was still dark and David and I had, I guessed, about an hour ahead of us, stumbling through the thick bush to gain my objective. I hoped that my mental picture of the lay of the land – that I had formed some years previously while on patrol as an Army Cadet – had remained sufficiently accurate. If not, the confidence I had just shown to the Sergeant could turn out to be mere bravado, particularly when the tracker dogs arrived from Melbourne. Before Puckapunyal Army Base had been set up by the military (during the first World War) there had been a fair bit of (comparatively unsuccessful) mining activity in the area. Once the military had taken over, of course, this had all ceased – and, given the lack of genuine mineral ‘strikes’ in the area, no-one had been particularly disappointed by this government decision. People quickly forgot the modest legacy of mining that the area once had. When I was a boy soldier, leading my rag-tag squad of schoolboys through the dense bushland of the Scrub Hill area, we got lost – naturally. We deviated from the planned route by many miles and were unable to make our way back to camp until hours after the time allotted for the navigation exercise had expired. The teachers and the Army instructor were very unhappy with us – and, in particular, with me – since I was the nominal leader of the squad. (Lucky squad!) Why had we gotten lost? I had absorbed keenly the navigation lessons provided to us by the regular army guys and I knew very well how to read a detailed topographic map. I also knew how to use a modern, rugged and highly accurate prismatic compass. What then had been the problem? The fucking Bren gun had been the problem! Yes, you heard it right. The Army let a bunch of stupid kids wander about the Australian bush with a Bren Gun. For the uninitiated, this is a heavy machine gun of World War II vintage – old but absolutely lethal.
Fatel o an gewer de?langbot langbot
DOCTOR INGRID “Are you in need of pain relief?” The voice was that of Ingrid, through the peephole of our cell door. I was ready for her – I had given this meeting some thought. “Tell me, doctor,” I replied. “What’s it like working with Doctor Josef Mengele? What’s it like working in Auschwitz instead of Puckapunyal?” She gasped involuntarily – evidently, she knew of the evil reputation of the bestial Nazi doctor and how that reputation had been earned. I had struck a real nerve. I had intended to. So, I pushed hard on that nerve. “Tell me, doctor. If you can’t answer that question, what about this one: when did you decide to renounce your Hippocratic Oath? When did you decide it was okay to ‘do harm’?” The peephole was abruptly snapped shut. I heard the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. Advantage: me. The peephole stayed shut for some hours until Ingrid (who had apparently now composed herself) returned once again. “Are you in need of pain relief?” she repeated without emotion. Of course, I was. My skin was still on fire from all the scorch marks inflicted upon my body – and my genitals were very bruised and achy. (There had been no need to put the cattle-prod in my groin to get the desired reaction from David – this had been pure malice, pure payback. Then again, as he’d been so thorough in applying the prod to David’s testes, he probably just thought he needed to be completely even-handed about the matter. Hmmmph!) I decided I could put my mind games to one side until I had gotten the relief I’d been craving for some hours. Even so, I tried to make light of my suffering: “Yes, as it happens, an Aspro or two would be most welcome,” I said, as sweetly as I could.
Tomm a wor henna.langbot langbot
My brother knows Karl Marx He met him eating mushrooms in the people's park He said, "What do you think about my manifesto?" "I like your manifesto, put it to the test-o" Took it straight down to meet the anarchist party I met a groovy guy, he was arty-farty He said, "I know a little Latin: anicus anicae" Said, "I don't know what it means," he said, "Neither do I" Eat natural foods, bathe twice daily Fill your nostrils up with gravy Don't drink tea and don't drink coffee Cover your chin in Yorkshire toffee Dancing in the disco, bumper to bumper Wait a minute, where's me jumper? Where's me jumper? Where's me jumper? Where's me jumper? Dancing in the disco, bumper to bumper Wait a minute, where's me jumper? Where's me jumper? Where's me jumper? Where's me jumper? Where's me jumper? Oh no Dancing in the disco, go, go, go Dancing in the disco, oh no, oh no, oh no Dancing in the disco, go, go, go Dancing in the disco, oh no, oh no It's alright to say things can only get better You haven't lost your brand-new sweater I know I had it on when I had my tea And I'm sure I had it on in the lavatory Oh no Dancing in the disco, go, go, go Dancing in the disco, oh no, oh no Dancing in the disco, bumper to bumper Wait a minute, where's me jumper? Where's me jumper? Where's me jumper? Where's me jumper? Where's me jumper? It's alright to say things can only get better You haven't lost your brand new sweater Pure new wool and perfect stitches Not the type of jumper that makes you itches Oh no Dancing in the disco, go, go, go Dancing in the disco, oh no, oh no
Nyns yw da gensi an gwari ma.langbot langbot
The Hayle army was armed with modern weapons, but the Penzance army was equipped only with old weapons. That is, my cousin (the Hayle army) had a powerful new air-gun. But I (the Penzance army) had an old gun belonging to his younger sister.
Ow thas yw.langbot langbot
Thinking back, the main topic of conversation with the young ladies had been the aphorisms of Oscar Wilde – a topic with which these middle-class suburban girls seemed entirely unacquainted. Since running into Paul again at University (he was continuing with French), I noted he still had many close friends who were attractive girls. And now I find that he had been attacked in a crypt with Charles while naked. Both he and Charles had been bitten but, unlike every other male I knew that had been bitten, they had both recovered. I decided to explore further. “Paul, you said you became ill after you got bitten?” “Certainly. That’s true. I remember the day after the attack, when we scavenged in the gate-keeper’s house, but nothing after that until yesterday. It was like I was asleep for those days. His Royal Majesty tended to me – or so he says.” “Indeed,” said Charles. “Our court has been much reduced of late and there was need to preserve our standards. The Roundheads press upon us even now, as you have seen for yourself.” Fine. “Did you get sick, too, Charles?” Charles considered his answer. “No, Oliver. We cleaned and bound our wound – just as we had done for Paul – and there was some discomfort but ... no, we did not get ill. On the other hand, we thought Paul had died. He lay there without moving, pale and feverish, for several days. We were in the process of planning a simply wonderful funeral service at St. Patrick’s cathedral when he started to recover. We had the music planned and everything. Mozart’s ‘Requiem’ would have been suitable, don’t you think? Though we know the Pope is not a big fan. In any event, Paul proved to be an ungrateful wretch and, unexpectedly, as we said, started to recover. However, today is the very first day he has really been up and about.” (Paul was, in better times, a reasonable athlete.) So, was there a pattern here?
Loos yw an komolen.langbot langbot
209 sinne gevind in 22 ms. Hulle kom uit baie bronne en word nie nagegaan nie.