before her oor Kornies

before her

Vertalings in die woordeboek Engels - Kornies

dherygdhi

Soortgelyke frases

before her time
kyns hy thermyn

voorbeelde

before her
/ dherygdhi / / /

I would go before her. [he kneels.
mones a vynnav rygdhi.

A short period before her death, she wrote:
Termyn berr kyns hy mernans, hi a skrifas:

before her time
/ kyns hy thermyn / / /

We will continue to increase our knowledge and understanding of young carers so we can better support their needs. A short period before her death, she wrote:
Ni a wra pesya ynkressya agan godhvos ha konvedhes a withoryon yowynk may hyllyn skoodhya gwell aga edhommow.

Her pains which were great and intense are turned to joy for her for she is queen in heaven. she is worthy to be adored. angels stand before her. many thousands follow her will and her son honours her as he wishes. fairer than the sun is her brightness.
hy faynys o bras ha krev yn joy dhedhi trelys yw rag myghternes yw yn nev dhe vos gordhys hi yw gwiw eledh dherygdhi a sev lies mil hy bodh a syw ha'y mab a's gordh dell vynn tekka es howl yw hy liw

15The princes also of Pharaoh saw her, and commended her before Pharaoh: and the woman was taken into Pharaoh's house.
15Pennsevigyon Faro a's gwelas ynwedh ha'y gormel a-dherag Faro; ha'n venyn a veu kemmerys a-berth yn chi Faro.

51Behold, Rebekah is before thee, take her, and go, and let her be thy master's son's wife, as the LORD hath spoken.
51Awotta Rebeka a-dheragos. Kemmer hi ha mos yn-kerdh. Hi a vydh gwreg dhe vab dha arloedh, dell leveris an ARLOEDH.’

Before parting to tear her.
kyns es dibarth, hy skwardya.

Margaret cast her vote before going to work. /
Margaret a dewlis hy raglev kyns mos dh’y ober. /

Margaret cast her vote before going to work.
Margaret a dewlis hy raglev kyns mos dh’y ober.

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, (from ‘The Night Before Christmas’)
Mamm gwiskys yn garrlenn ha hatt war ow fenn (dhyworth ‘An Nos Kyns Nadelik’)

Why isn’t she drinking her tea? Because she wants to put more milk in it before drinking it.
Prag nag usi hi owth eva hy the? Drefen bos hwans dhedhi a worra moy a leth ynno kyns y eva.

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
Mordros a dhassen a-berth y'n odytys Klew an golanes a hevel gul ges An hwelyow ma nyns yw lemmyn saw koyntys Den bal dres niver na meur y les Tromm a-ragov vy, my a's gwelas hi Mar hweg del o Ha pan gewsis hi, ow digolon vy 'Fias dhe'n fo Ha pan brofyas dhymm hy skoodh Gyllys 'veu ow gooth Euver pan glewyn vy, skon y'm cheris hi Yn Plen an Gwari dre hap y's dyerbynnis, Ha hi ow kerdhes a'y honan gans ki. Orti hy hanow yn harth a wovynnis: "Tamsin," 'hworthybis hi orthiv vy. Tromm a-ragov vy, my a's gwelas hi Mar hweg del o; Ha pan gewsis hi, ow digolon vy 'Fias dhe'n fo! Ha pan brofyas dhymm hy skoodh Gyllys 'veu ow gooth: Euver pan glewyn vy, skon y'm cheris hi. Pana goll esa dhymmo vy awos ow dilavureth Ha my ow tyerbynna Tamsin Ha pub gorthuher omvetya a wren ni Gwynn ow bys, gwynn o yn hwir Mordros a dhassen a-berth y'n odytys Klew an ahwesydh ow kana mar hweg Ha kyn fo an hwelyow ma saw unn koyntys Ott! My ha Tamsin yw gour ha gwreg Tromm a-ragov vy, my a's gwelas hi Mar hweg del o Ha pan gewsis hi, ow digolon vy 'Fias dhe'n fo Ha pan brofyas dhymm hy skoodh Gyllys 'veu ow gooth Euver pan glewyn vy, skon y'm cheris hi Ny vern travyth namoy, Tamsin a'm kar

Then another voice answered, “And thus she will remain, if the spell is not broken. He must free the girdle (that is fastened with a magic pin) from her waist. He must burn the girdle, throw its ashes before the door, and bury the magic pin. Then will her soul return from the fairies, she will speak, and she will have true life again.”
Ena lev aral a worthebis, “Hag yndelma hi a wra gortos, mar nyns yw terrys an hus. Res yw dhodho livra an grugys (hag yw fastyes gans pynn hudel) a’y kres. Res yw kowlleski an grugys, tewlel y lusu a-dherag an daras, hag ynkleudhyas an pynn hudel. Ena y hwra hy enev dehweles a’n spyrysyon, hi a wra kewsel, ha hi a’s tevydh bewnans gwir arta.”

Why isn’t she drinking her tea? Because she wants to put more milk in it before drinking it. / Moy is normally followed by a before a noun.
Prag nag usi hi owth eva hy the? Drefen bos hwans dhedhi a worra moy a leth ynno kyns y eva. /

After these words of Finvarra, the young lord ordered his workmen to cease their labour and to go home. When sunset had nearly arrived, he summoned his great chestnut horse and rode to the head of the glen, and waited. Just as the red light coloured all the sky, he saw his wife coming along the path in her gown of silvery gossamer, more beautiful than ever before. And he leapt from his saddle and raised her up and galloped with her like the wind to the castle.
Wosa an geryow Finvarra ma, an arlodh yowynk a erghis dh’y weythoryon mayth astellens aga lavur ha mos tre. Ha’n howlsedhes ogas ha devedhys, ev a elwis y vargh meur, gell kesten y liw, ha marghogeth dhe benn an glynn, ha gortos. Dell liwas an golow rudh an ebron oll, ev a welas y wreg ow tos war an hyns a-hys, yn hy fows a weun arghansek, moy teg es bythkweth kyns. Hag ev a lammas a’y dhiber ha hy drehevel ha peswarlemmel gensi kepar ha’n gwyns dhe’n kastel.

45And before I had done speaking in mine heart, behold, Rebekah came forth with her pitcher on her shoulder; and she went down unto the well, and drew water: and I said unto her, Let me drink, I pray thee.
45‘Kyns my dhe worfenna kewsel y'm kolonn, awotta, yth esa Rebeka ow tos yn-mes, hy fycher war hi skoedh ha hi eth yn-nans dhe'n fenten ha tenna, ha my a leveris dhedhi, “Gas vy dhe eva, my a'th pys.”

Tell her what happened. / A hwarva looks like an imperfect, but in this irregular verb it is a preterite. Notice the an before pyth here.
Lavar dhedhi an pyth a hwarva. /

Stupidly, I smiled. This wasn’t information that I wanted lightly to volunteer. Ingrid cast a meaningful glance through the glass panel of the door – at the goons still loitering, with interest, outside the interview room. It was not in my best interests to be coy, it seemed. “I’ll give you a hint,” I said. “These guys, those close friends of mine, seemed (to me, at least) to be very like the other young people who never even succumbed to the infection.” Ingrid was puzzled by this ‘hint’. “Other young people?” said her face. Perhaps, the ‘hint’ was a bit obscure for her. “But the only others who didn’t succumb were girls,” said Ingrid, stating the obvious. “I don’t understand your hint at all.” “Think about it, doctor: guys who seem a lot like girls?” (Remember this was the 70’s – a lot of people, including me and Ingrid, didn’t yet realise that many gay guys were not effeminate at all. After all, only ten years before, homosexuality was still officially regarded as a mental illness!) Ingrid half-shook her head before the look of revelation suddenly burst across her face. I nodded and smiled: “Well done, Doctor. It seems you’re making progress.” Actually, she was still a bit slow. She took some moments before blurting out: “Gay? Is that what you’re saying? That gay guys recover?” “My friends, the ones who recovered from the zombie bites were definitely gay – one of them was ‘out’ and the other may as well have been. So, that is indeed what I’m saying: gay guys do indeed get better,” I replied. “But that’s awful. Our best estimate, based on current research, is that one in six guys is gay,” she said – to no-one in particular. (This, indeed, was the statistic widely quoted at the time – though I always doubted it.) “You’ve got the stats, sister,” I replied. “Not me.”
Meur ow gokkineth, my a vinhwarthas. Nyns o hemma derivadow a vynnen ri yn es. Ingrid a dhannvonas golok der kwarel an daras – ha troha’n bilens hwath ow kwandra oll a-dro, yn-mes an stevell-geskows, meur aga hwans a wodhvos pyth esa ow hwarvos ynno. Nyns o dhe’m gwayn bos gohelus, dell heveli. “My a yll ri dhis gidyansik,” yn-medhav. “An bolatys ma, an kothmans ma dhymm, a heveli (dhymmo vy dhe’n lyha) bos kepar ha’n dus yowynk erell na goedhsa nevra dhe’n klevesans.” Ankombrys o Ingrid gans an ‘gidyansik’. “ ‘Dus yowynk erell’?” yn-medh hy thremmynn. Martesen, re ankler o rygdhi. “Mes nyns esa re erell vyth na goedhas dhe’n klevesans a-der myrghes,” yn- medh Ingrid, ow leverel pyth o apert. “Ny gonvedhav mann dha idyansik.” “Gwra prederi yn y gever, ‘Dhoktour: polatys a hevel meur bos kepar ha myrghes?” (Porth kov: yth esen hwath yn blydhynnyow ’70 – ny wodhya hwath meur a dus, my hag Ingrid y’ga mysk, bos meur a bolatys kethreydhel nag o benynek vyth. Ha, wosa oll, nyns o saw deg blydhen kyns kethreythegyeth dhe vos konsydrys yn soedhek dell o kleves a’n brys!) Ingrid hanter-shakyas hy fenn kyn dheuth a-dhesempis golowyans dh’y thremmynn. My a benndroppyas ha minhwerthin: “Gwrys da, ‘Dhoktour. Avonsyans dhis yw henna, dell hevel.” Yn hwir, hwath lent o hi. Byttegyns, wosa berrdermyn, hi a leveris heb preder: “Kethreydhel? Yw henna pyth esosta ow leverel? An bolatys gethreydhel a yll omwellhe?” “Ow sos, an re a omwellhas wosa an brathow-zombi, o yn sertan kethreydhel – onan anedha o ‘apert’ yn y gever ha’n huni arall o aswonnys bos yndella. Ytho, henn yw yn hwir pyth esov ow leverel: an yonkers gethreythel, (dhe’n lyha) a wra yn hwir omwellhe,” a worthybis. “Mes henn yw euthyk. Herwydh agan gwella dismygriv, selys war hwithrans a- dhiwedhes, yma onan yntra hwegh polat yw kethreydhel,” yn-medh hi – dhe dhenvyth arbennik, dell heveli. (An rannriv ma o yn hwir an statystyk dyllys ledan y’n termyn na – kynth esa pup-prys dout dhymm yn y gever.) “An statystygon yw genes jy, ow hwoer,” a worthybis. “Nyns yns genev.”

At an open door, air streams The play of gnats free in a swarm; A swallow's beak before the night Seizes nimbly her easy spoils; And on the grey limestone slops I walked before, last niht Bare mountains above the wood Where the weather changes uddenly; I will return to you soon - Wide slopes of Rousillon Vineyards over the valley below Row on row, long lines; Black juice before the end of the month When the harvest comes on your land; Fruit unripe, bitter, sharp Will soon change to something sweet Which will always be a marvel to me A secret of nature always unseen; The night falls, a cricket sings Good company, warm amusing laughter In a lazy dry Catalan valley When the song of the night finally stops There falls a calmness on the house; To my bed I must go And now a desire I have for her; Against a wide sky, dark and far Half-dressed, loose clothing Skin like brown olives She kneels at the cross; I remember sight and sound; I know every word, every tune And I will return to you soon - Long, hot nights of Rousillon
Orth daras igor, ayr a fros Gwari gwybes rydh yn hes; Gelvin gwennol, kyns an nos A dhalghenn skav hy freydhow es; Ha war an ledrow limven loes My a gerdhas kyns, nyhewer Menydhyow moel a-ugh an koes Le may trel distowgh an gewer; My a dhehwel dhis yn skon - Ledrow ledan Rousillon Gwinlannow dres an nans a-is Rew war rew, linennow hir; Sugen du dhe benn an mis Pan dheu an drevas war an tir; Froeth anadhves, hwerow, lymm A drel yn skon dhe neppyth melys A vydh pup-prys marthys dhymm Rin a natur, prest anwelys; An nos a goedh, an gryll a gan Kowetha dha, hwarth toemm didhan Ym syghnans syger katalan Pan hedh wor'tiwedh kan an nos Y koedh kosoleth war an chi; Dhe'm gweli res y dhymmo mos Ha lemmyn hwans a'm beus anedhi; Er ebrenn efan, tewl ha pell Hanterwiskys, dillas lows Kroghenn avel oliv gell Hi a war dhwelin orth an grows; My a berth kov gwel ha son; My a woer pub ger, pub ton Ha my a dhehwel dhis yn skon - Nosow poeth, hir Rousillon

But when he looked at her he knew that she was dead, and the grasp of her hand was like a ring of fire around his wrist. He backed away in fear, for he saw that she was a beautiful girl that he had loved when he was a young man. He had given her a necklace of pearls, but she had died before she became a bride.
Mes, pan viras ev orti yth aswonis hy bos marow, ha dalghen hy leuv o kepar ha kylgh a dan a-dro dh’y gonna bregh. Ev a gildennas rag own, drefen ev dhe weles hy bos mowes teg re garsa ev pan o ev yonker. Ev re ros dhedhi delk a berlys, mes hi re verwis kyns hi dhe dhos ha bos benyn bries.

15And it came to pass, before he had done speaking, that, behold, Rebekah came out, who was born to Bethuel, son of Milcah, the wife of Nahor, Abraham's brother, with her pitcher upon her shoulder.
15Kyns ev dhe worfenna y gows, awotta, yth esa Rebeka ow tos yn-mes – genys o hi dhe Bethuel mab Milka, gwreg Nahor, broder Abraham – gans hy fycher war hy skoedh.

The plan was that a sinful woman should be brought before Christ so that he might give a decision of his own accord as to what was to be done in her case. "For the laws which we have will condemn her outright," they said. "There is no way in which she may be made blameless."
An gusul o may fe dres dherag Krist peghadores, oll dh'y vodh may rolla breus anedhi dell vedha gwres. "Rag an laghys dhyn ni eus a vynn hy dampnya porres," yn-medhons i. "Fordh nyns eus may hallo bos diflam gwrys."

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
Yn medhel ow chershya hy blew Ha'n howl ow trehevel, kyns ow hares dhe sevel A welis vy dre hwithra gluw Hi dhe ola heb gul son, ow kudha hy guw? Dagren eth ha bos talgam Ha pan gewsis vy... yn unn lamm... Gyllys 'veu ow hares, ow huv-kolon Heb mar, y hwruss'ta yn ta hy aswon Nyns yw marth kyn fo oll trogh ow holon: Ahanav vy res eth hi Y yeunav rygdhi Ahanav vy res eth hi Hi a vynn ankevi Ahanav vy res eth hi Ha, del hevel, 'th ov heb bri Mes dhe vlamya yw hi Ha galsa pan viris yn-bann Namoy my ny's gwelyn, marnas ol y'n ys melyn An ebron orth bora o rudh Howl ow klyttra dre dhel hag y fedhyglas bugh Ha galsa glan a'm gwel Hwath genev hy sorr ha'y geryow fell Gyllys 'veu ow hares, ow huv-kolon Heb mar, y hwruss’ta yn ta hy aswon Nyns yw marth kyn fo oll trogh ow holon: Ahanav vy res eth hi Y yeunav rygdhi Ahanav vy res eth hi Hi a vynn ankevi Ahanav vy res eth hi Ha, del hevel, 'th ov heb bri Mes dhe vlamya yw hi Mes dhe vlamya yw hi Mes dhe vlamya yw hi Mes dhe vlamya yw hi