afternoons oor Kornies

afternoons

naamwoord

Plural form of afternoon.

Vertalings in die woordeboek Engels - Kornies

androwyow

naamwoord m

dohajydhyow

Soortgelyke frases

late afternoon
androw

fine afternoon
dohajydhweyth teg

in the afternoons
androweyth · dohajydhweyth

warm February afternoon
dohajydh tomm mis Hwevrer

at two in the afternoon
dhe dhiw eur androweyth

until the afternoon
bys y'n dohajydh

beautiful afternoon
dohajydhweyth teg

afternoon-time
androweyth · androwyth

Good afternoon!
Dohajydh da!

voorbeelde

(hkg.) termyn yntra hanter dydh hag anwolow, yn-unn gomprehendya eghwa, androw, ha gorthugher afternoon, evening
dohajydh, ~yow

afternoon
androw

enjoyable afternoon
/ dohajydhweyth heudhadow / / /

afternoon-time
/ androweyth / / /

Good afternoon to you, May. Nice weather, isn’t it?
Dohajydh da dhis, Me. Kewer deg, a nyns yw hi?

Good afternoon!
/ Dohajydh da! / / /

in the afternoons
/ dohajydhweyth / / /

afternoon
dohajydh ( masculine noun ) dohajydhyow ( plural ) ( ) ( ) ( ) ( )

afternoons
/ dohajydhyow / / /

An enjoyable afternoon helping our community to clear Trevaylor stream.
Dohajydhweyth heudhadow ow gweres agan kemeneth klerya dowr Trevelor.

It’s a sheep farm. Open the kitchen door, please! There are lots of people inside the hall. It’s too hot at mid-day. A few words are enough. The garden is very dry. Good afternoon to you, May. Nice weather, isn’t it? Fifty-three people in the bus are too many, it seems. Mother is at the door. Open it then!
Bargen-tir deves yw ev. Igor daras an gegin, mar pleg! Yma meur a dus a-ji dhe’n hel. Re boeth yw hi dhe hanter-dydh. Nebes geryow yw lowr. Pur sygh yw an lowarth. Dohajydh da dhis, Me. Kewer deg, a nyns yw hi? Trydhek den ha dew-ugens a-ji dhe’n kyttrin yw re, dell hevel. Yma an vamm orth an daras. Igor e ytho!

good afternoon - greeting
dohajydh da [tavoseth] [disamstyryans]

Afternoons
Dohajydhyow

afternoon
dohajydh masculine noun dohajydhyow plural

[ˌdɔha'ʤɪ:ð] m dohajydhyow afternoon. dohajydh da good afternoon drehedhes [drɛ'hɛðɛs] [verb-hanow / hanow verbel] access
dohajydh

‘Good afternoon, Mr. Maggot!’ said Pippin.
‘Dohajydh da, Mr. Magott!’ a leveris Pypyn.

afternoon
/ dohajedh / n.m /

Good afternoon, Malcolm - how are you?
FSS: Dohajydh da, Malcolm - fatla genes? / KK: Dohajydh da, Malcolm - fatla genes?

On huge trestles lay slabs of granite, scored by drills, like battering rams, or cut tree trunks, shaped roughly before the mill – siege-engines battering the afternoon.
War gebrow bras y hworwedha leghyon a rowan, skorys gans terder, kepar ha hor’bennow, po kyfyon treghys, shapys yn harow kyns an velin — jynnow-omsettyans ow kronkya an androw.

good afternoon
/ dohajydh da / idiom /

As we emerged from the DS hut we heard the hand-bell summoning us to the last lesson of the afternoon, ringing far away in the playground below. Then it stopped ringing – we would be late! As fate would have it, the last lesson was with the headmaster – a corpulent, pompous, and irascible Welshman. Still eating our cakes, we ran off downhill at top speed.
Ha ni ow kasa an bywdern, ni a glewas an klogh-dhorn orth agan gelwel dhe dhiwettha klass an dohajydh, ow seni y’n pelder y’n garth-gwari a-woles. Ena an senyans a hedhis – y fedhen ni diwedhes! Dell godhas, agan diwettha klass o kemerys gans an penndyskador – Kembro korfek, orgelus ha fyslek. Ow tybri hwath agan tesennow, ni a bonyas war-nans skaffa gyllyn.

eghwa baldhan languid afternoon
baldheghwa, baldheghwoedhow [hanow kadarn gorow]

afternoon
dohajydh [hanow gorow]

**I write this on a warm February afternoon, overlooking Gwithian beach, watching the sea gently stroke the sand. I recognize and honour the wisdom and knowledge of indigenous and aboriginal peoples, who have been stewards of the land for generations and have much to teach us about regenerative practices, and I acknowledge the contribution of lineage holders in Cornish, indigenous and aboriginal cultures that help us connect with the spirit of Kernow** For thousands of years, Mama Kernow and Cornish people have lived in a loving, reciprocal relationship. She rose up out of the sea to give us respite from the endless waves of the vast ocean and has sheltered us from the Atlantic storms. She has fed us and the animals by feeding the plants, who have given themselves to us to sustain us. She has allowed us to dig deep into her for metals that we need, and that we can trade. She has cared for Cornish people, and all life here, like a mother cares for her children. She has given all of herself to us. And without her, we cannot do anything. And for thousands of years, we also played a role in returning the love and care that she shows us. We did our bit to care for our brothers and sisters: the fish, the forests, the animals, the plants, each other. We returned nutrients to her soil for our microbial siblings. We made sure to keep the waters clean and gave her space to breathe. Humans have always been the youngest of the natural family, and so, like rebellious teenagers, we recently have set out on our own, determined to prove our independence. We have liked to think that with materialism and science we could prove that we could do by ourselves. However, that journey, which starts with dependence, and then independence, always ends with coming home, with a waking up to the interdependence that sustains us. That has always sustained us. Even when we disappeared and neglected our role, Mama Kernow carried on feeding and sheltering us. However, this time now represents our homecoming. We are waking up and Mama Kernow is welcoming us back with a warm embrace. She smiles because she always knew we’d come back. She knows that, in fact, with our new found skills and knowledge, we can step up to play a different, more mature role in the household. She is calling on us, both those born here and those drawn here, to regenerate and enhance life. To breathe life back into Kernow, it’s children and places. To honour the spirit of Mama Kernow. So how can we do this, how can we reconnect with Mama Kernow? There are many ways and each is valid. But we could begin by calling her by her right name. “Cornwall” is the name that others have called her behind her back. The suffix, meaning “foreigners” in Anglo-Saxon, is a “wall” that prevents our reaching home. When we call her by her correct name, Kernow, she hears us. We can also speak to her in her language, Kernewek. Sure, she understands English, but that’s not the language of her heart. Mama Kernow gifted us with Kernewek names reflecting the essence of the spirit of each place, and without our connection to the language, we are unable to receive her gift or connect to each place. Thankfully, lineage holders kept this language alive through the generations. Without it, our connection to Mama Kernow might have been lost forever. Our language is just one of many doorways into our cultural heritage, though perhaps a key to unlocking many of them. Our stories, our songs and dances, our celebrations, our history, our buildings and our food, amongst many other things, are also rich seams of connection back to Mama Kernow. By caring for each of these manifestations of our culture, we take care for our paths of connection. We also must play our part in regenerating the soil so that our brothers and sisters, the trees and the plants, can play their role in caring for our mother, and for our other siblings, like the birds and the animals. We must be wary to not tell them how to do their job. They are receiving instructions from Mama Kernow we are not aware of. So, instead, we can simply create the space for them to regenerate, rewild and care for us. We should be careful to not take more land than she gives us. Where we are given land to feed ourselves, we should honour our mother for her gift to us, showing up with gratitude and reciprocity. We should honour the gift of each plant we harvest to eat, and ensure we are gifting nutrients back to the soil in return. And we must also regenerate our community soil. We must recognise we are all children of Mama Kernow, whether born here or drawn here, and we all playing our role, whether we understand it or not, or love it or not, just like the trees. We care for our community soil when we weave connections between us, seek to uncover each other’s unique gifts and find a way for them to be received by the community. We regenerate our communities when we listen to and value what our brothers and sisters are already doing to make where they live a better place, rather than imposing the whims of funders, charities or institutions. We honour our mother when we show up from a place of love that lifts up our fellow family members, rather than from a place of fear, anger and judgement. And the final step in connection is to realise that we are not just children of Mama Kernow, but we are Mama Kernow herself. We are all manifestations of this spirit that is bigger than us. To call ourselves her children is just a manner of speaking, half way between the scientific and the spiritual. How does it change how we show up with each other, and with all the manifestations of Mama Kernow around us, if we recognise our shared nature? What does it mean to come back home?
**Y hwrav vy skrifa hemma dres dohajydh tomm mis-Hwevrer yn unn vires dhe dreth Godhyan ha’n mor ow palva an tewes. Y hwrav vy aswon hag enora godhvos ha furneth tus genesik neb re veu rennyas an dir dres henedhow ha neb a wra kavos meur dhe dhyski dhyn dro-dhe argerdhow dasvewel. Y hwrav vy aswonn rohow an synsysi-linaja yn gonisogethow Kernow ha genesik neb a wra agan gweres dasjunya dhe spyrys Kernow** Dres milyow a vledhen, y hwrug Mama Kernow ha tus Kernow bywa yn karder a gerensa ha kesparthek. Y hwrug hi sevel yn-bann diworth an mor rag ri dhyn hedh diworth mordonnow heb lett an keynvor efan hag agan klesa diworth tewedhow Atlantek. Y hwrug hi bosa an lesyow rag may hyllsen i ri aga honan dhyn ni rag agan sostena. Y hwrug hi agan gasa palas yn town rag kavos alkenyow res hag aga kenwertha. Y hwrug hi gwitha war dus Kernow, ha bewnans oll omma, kepar dell wra mamm gwitha war hy fleghes. Y hwrug hi ri oll anedhi dhyn. Hag hebdhi, ny yllyn gul travyth. Ha dres milvledhynnyow, y hwrussyn ni gwari rann yn attyli an gerensa ha gwith a dhiskwedh hi dhyn. Y hwrussyn gwitha war agan breder ha hwerydh: an puskes, kosow, enevales, ha’n lesyow. Y hwrussyn ri tre megyans dhedhi rag agan kesfleghes korrbryvek. Y hwrussyn gwitha glan an dowr ha ri spas dhedhi rag hwytha. Re beu tus yowynkka an deylu naturek, hag ytho, kepar dell wra degowogyon trehwelek, a-gynsow y hwrussyn ni ervira mos a-ves war agan honan, krev an mynnas previ agan anserghogeth. Da re beu genen prederi y hyllyn gul genen ni agan honan dre wodhonieth ha materialism. Byttegyns, an vyaj na, hag a wra dalleth gans serghogeth, ha wosa anserghogeth, a wra gorfenna pupprys gans dehweles tre yn unn dhifuna dhe’n kesserghogeth hag a wra agan sostena oll; hag a wrussa agan sostena pupprys. Kyn hwrussyn ni dispresya agan rann, y hwrug Mama Kernow pesya agan bosa ha klesa. Byttegyns, an termyn ma a represent agan dehwelans. Y hwren ni omdhifuna hag yma Mama Kernow orth agan dynnerghi gans byrlans tomm. Y hwra hi minhwarth rag hi dhe wodhvos pupprys y hwrussen ni dehweles. Yn hwir, y hwra hi godhvos y hyllyn ni gul pas yn-rag dhe wari rann diffrans ha moy adhves y’n teylu gans agan skiens nowydh. Y hwra pysi orthyn, an re genys ha’n re tennys omma, a dhasvewa ha gwellhe bywnans. Y hwra hi agan pysi hwytha bywnans yn Kernow, hy fleghes ha tylleryow. Rag enora spyrys Mama Kernow. Ytho, fatell yllyn ni gul hemma, fatell yllyn ni dasjunya gans Mama Kernow? Yma lies fordh, hag oll yw ewn. Mes y hyllyn ni dalleth gans hy henwel hanow ewn. Cornwall yw hanow hag a wrug tus erell hy henwel a-dryv dhe hy heyn. An lostelven, hag a wra styrya “moryon” yn Sowsnek, a wra agan hedhi drehedhes tre. Pan wren ni hy henwel gans hanow ewn, Kernow, y hwra hi agan klywes. Ynwedh, y hyllyn ni kewsel dhedhi yn hy yeth, Kernewek. Y hwra hi konvedhes Sowsnek yn sur, mes nyns yw henna yeth hy holonn. Y hwrug Mama Kernow ri dhyn henwyn tyller Kernewek kelmys dhe essen an spyrys a bub dyller, ha, heb kevrenn dhe’n yeth, ny yllyn ni degemeres hy ro po junya orth an leow ma. Yn grasek, y hwrug synsysi-linaja gwitha war vywnans agan yeth dres an henedhow. Hebdho, martesen y hallsa bos kellys agan kevrenn dhe Mama Kernow bys vykken. Mes agan yeth yw onan yn mysk lies daras dhe agan ertach gonisogethel, kynth yw martesen alhwedh dhe lies anedha. Yth yw agan hwedhlow, agan kanow ha donsyow, agan solempnyansow, agan istori, agan drehevyans hag agan boos, yn mysk taklow erell, gwythiennow rych rag junya gans Mama Kernow. Pan wren ni gwitha war an re ma, y hwren ni gwitha war an lerghow dh’agan Mama. Res yw dhyn gwari agan rann a dhasvewhe an gweres may hyll agan breder ha hwerydh, an gwedh ha’n lesyow, gwari aga rann a witha war agan mamm ha’gan kesfleghes, an ydhyn ha’n enevales. Res yw dhyn bos war sevel orth leverel dhedha fatell godh dhedha oberi. I a dhegemmer dyskansow a Mama Kernow ankoth dhyn. A-der henna, yn sempel y hyllyn ni gul spas may hyllons dasvewa, daswylshe ha gwitha warnan. Y tal dhyn bos war na gemeryn moy a dir es yw res dhyn. Le may hwrug hi ri dhyn tyller rag agan bosa, y kodh dhyn enora agan mamm rag an ro ma, hag omdhiskwedhes gans gras ha kesparthekter. Y kodh dhyn enora an ro a bub les kuntelys ragon, ha surhe y hwren ni ri sostenans dhe’n gweres ynwedh. Ha res yw dhyn dasvewhe gweres agan kemenethow ynwedh. Res yw dhyn aswon agan bos oll fleghes Mama Kernow, genys omma po tennys omma, hag y hwren oll gwari agan rann, pypynag y hwren y gonvedhes po y gara. Y hwren ni gwitha war gweres agan kemeneth pan wren ni gwia kevrennow yntredhon ha hwilas roasow kudhys ha fordhow may hyllons bos degemerys gans an gemeneth. Y hwren ni dasvewhe agan kemenethow pan wren goslowes ha ri bri dhe’n pyth a wra agan breder ha hwerydh rag gwellhe an le mayth yns trigys, yn le beghya hwansow arghasoryon, alusennow ha fondyansow. Y hwren enora agan mamm pan wren ni omdhiskwedhes yn spas a gerensa hag a wra lyftya eseli agan teylu, yn le spas a own, sorr ha breus. Ha’n rann diwettha yn gwrians an gevren yw aswonn nag on ni yn unnik fleghes Mama Kernow, mes yth on ni Mama Kernow hy honan ynwedh. Yth on ni heweledhow an spyrys ma hag yw brassa esson. Agan henwel hy fleghes yw maner a gows ynter an skiansek ha’n spyrysek. Fatell wra treylya an fordh hag ynno y hwren ni kevren gans tus erell, ha gans oll heweledhow Mama Kernow a-dro dhyn, mar kwren ni aswonn agan gnas kevrynnys. Ha pandr’a wra styrya dhe dhehweles tre?

Having attended to our ablutions, I felt the need to rest again and to block out the intermittent roar of the ongoing slaughter outside. I was just too stuffed from what had been happening over the last week and more – and, anyway, we had nowhere else to go just at the minute. More than that, if I were to continue on, I couldn’t afford to think about the horror of recent and ongoing events – it was simply too overwhelming and sleep was the place to retreat from all that. David lapsed into a torpor with which I was now becoming familiar. Was it sleep? Was it another form of death? I awoke again in the afternoon, I think. The shooting was now very sporadic and the cries of the zombies were no longer audible. Still, we’d need to be here for at least a few days before it was safe to venture out – or so I guessed – and I would need to keep myself occupied. What to do next? Then I hit upon it: there was a pack of playing cards that Charles and Paul had left behind in their rush to exit. Today, I would try to teach David how to play poker. It was a game he’d once been good at – and had enjoyed. So, why not? Why not indeed? But first, I would catch up on world events. Yes, miraculously, I had managed to hold onto the transistor radio whilst effecting our escape from the battle. True, it was now a little battered – and smelled a lot of gasoline soot – but it still worked. (I hoped that the batteries had been relatively new because I had no replacements at hand.) “This is the BBC World Service,” the announcer intoned. (I was warming to that voice.) News that I wasn’t interested in came first but the ‘Battle of Melbourne Port” was the third item of the broadcast. The item confirmed a couple of things. The first was that the herding of the zombies into the uni campus – and their subsequent destruction there – had been entirely planned and was claimed to have been largely successful in its aim. (There was no mention of the soldiers who had been taken by the zombies during the battle.)
Agan tronkys gwrys, my a omglywo bos edhomm dhymm a bowes arta – rag lettya dhiworthiv usans treweythus dhiworth an ladhva esa ow pesya yn-mes. Spenys en vy drefenn an hwarvosow re hwarsa dres moy es seythun – hag, yn neb kas, nyns esa le vyth arall may hyllyn mos y’n tor’ na. Ha, gans henna, mar mynnen mos yn-rag, ny dalvien prederi a-dro dhe’n euth a hwarvosow a-gynsow – oversettyes gansa en vy ha kosk o an le may yllyn kildenna dhiworta. Davydh a goedhas yn anwrythresekter, lemmyn aswonnys yn ta dhymm. O hemma kosk yn hwir? O hemma eghenn a vernans arall? Dohajydh, dell grysav, my a dhifunas arta. An tennans o lemmyn pur dreweythus ha ny yllys na fella klywes skrijansow an zombis. Byttele, res o dhyn triga omma nebes dydhyow kyns bos salow mos yn-mes – po dell grysyn – hag ytho yth esa edhomm a dhidhana ow honan. Pyth yw an nessa tra dhe wul? Ena, y teuth dhymm: yth esa kartennow-wari re via gesys gans Powl ha Charlys hag i resys dhe-ves dhiworth an gleudhgell. Hedhyw, my a vynna dyski Davydh dell wariir poeker. Kyns, y fia Davydh pur skentel ynno – ha da re via ganso ena. Ytho, prag na? Prag na yn hwir? Byttegyns, y’n kynsa le, yth esa edhomm dhymm kavoes nowodhow a hwarvosow an bys. Ya, dre verkyl, my re sewensa dhe dhalghenna an radyo- transystor ha ni dienkys an vatel. Gwir yw, nebes fustys o lemmyn – hag yth esa dhodho fler hudhygel-betrol – mes yth esa hwath owth oberi. (Govenek o dhymm bos poran nowydh an pilyow drefenn nag esa dhymm nammpyth yn le anedha.) “Hemm yw Servis SDP an Bys” a leveris an derivador. (My a omglywo lemmyn neb konfort drefenn son y lev.) Yth esa nowodhow nag o poesek dhymm a dheuth y’n kynsa le. Byttegyns, yth o “Batel Porth Melbourne” an tressa tra kampoellys y’n darlesans. An kynsa poynt gwrys gensi a gonfirmyas diw dra. An kynsa tra o bugelyans an zombis. I re via bugelyes yn kampus an bennskol – ha distruys ena – dre dowl kler. An towl ma re sewensa, dre vras, herwydh fentynyow an nowodhow. (Byttegyns, ny veu kampoellys an soudoryon re via kemmerys gans an zombis dres an vatel.)