closer oor Kornies

closer

/ˈkləʊzə/ naamwoord, adjektief, bywoord

comparative form of close: more close

Vertalings in die woordeboek Engels - Kornies

en nes

en-nes

gorer / adverb

nes

ogassa · yn nes · yn-nes

Soortgelyke frases

gettin' closer
ow neshe

why don't you come closer
prag na dheu'ta nes

come closer to me
dhymmo deus nes

come closer
deus nes · dos nes

the ones who come closer
an re a dheu nes

closer to their home
nessa dh'aga thre

getting closer
ow neshe

don't come closer
na dheus nes · na nes

and come closer to me
ha dhymmo deus nes

voorbeelde

CASTLEMAINE GARDENS There was simply no point in remonstrating with David – anymore than there would have been with a pack of hyenas or a pride of lions. David was a killer – that was now part of his nature. (Part of our nature?) However, I needed to get him away from his kill before we arrived at the next scheduled stop. I calculated, correctly, that the crime (if such it be) would be discovered almost as soon as we pulled into the station. The kill (though death had been quick) had been very messy and bloody. It was entirely instinctive and David had given no thought to concealing it. If we’d had the time and equipment, it would have taken hours to clean up and dispose of the remains. We had neither. David continued his feasting as I considered our options. David’s grisly noise did not help. There was really only one option: flee the train at the earliest opportunity and hide in whichever place best presented itself. Castlemaine was the next scheduled stop. It’s a medium-sized own of, maybe, 10,000 people. It was once much bigger – as were many such towns – during the Victorian Goldrush of the 1850’s and 1860’s. But now it relied on agriculture and tourism. I was familiar, in general terms, with its layout as I had visited elderly relatives there several times in my childhood. Where to flee? Where to hide? I guessed I had less than 10 minutes to weigh my options. There were many abandoned mine-shafts but they were way out of town – and very dangerous. Any mines closer to town had been blocked off or filled in decades ago. So, forget that idea. I remembered that, when I was a kid, I’d played in the botanical gardens. For such a modest town, these were fine gardens. When the town had been larger and more prosperous, the wealthy burghers had decided their town needed such a place for genteel recreation. One of those burghers had even named the ornamental lake after his wife, Lake Johanna. It was a largish lake with an island in the middle where ducks and waterfowl made their nests and raised their young. And, moreover, the gardens were within 100m of the train station, on the edge of town. With luck, a lot of luck, we could sprint there before the mess in the baggage car were discovered.
PARK MEUR KASTLEMAYNE Nyns o poynt vyth ow kul plentyans gans Davydh. A blentir gans pakk eusvilas po teylu lewyon? Ladher o Davydh – henn o lemmyn rann y gnas. (Rann agan gnas?) Byttegyns, res o dhymm y gemmeres dhiworth y ladh kyns ni dhe dhrehedhes an nessa gorsav. My a reknas, yn ewn, an drogober (mars o yndella yn hwir) dhe vos diskudhys kettell dhrehedhsen an orsav. Kyn re via uskis an ladh, ev o goesek ha strolyek. Travyth a-der anyen re’n gidsa. Ny via preder vyth dhodho a-dro dh’y gudha. Mar pe dhyn termyn ha daffar y fia edhomm a ouryow rag klanhe an leur ha gul ‘kellys’ an korf. Nyns esa nag an eyl nag y gila dhyn ni. Davydh a besyas an wledh ha my ombrederys. (Ny’m gweresa trosow grysel Davydh.) Pyth o agan dewisow? Nyns o saw unn dhewis yn hwir: fia an tren skonna galla hag omgudha plepynag a via an gwella le ena. An nessa gorsav o Kastlemayne. Tre vras lowr, yth esa dhedhi, martesen, 10,000 enev. Nans yw termyn hir, nebes brassa o – kepar dell o lies tre yn Budhykka – drefenn Fysk dh’Owr dres an blydhynnyow 1850 ha 1860. Y’n termyn ma, hi a worra hy fydh yn ammeth hag yn tornyaseth. My a wodhya da lowr aray stretow an dre ma drefenn my dhe vysytya yn fenowgh ow herens goth ena pan en vy fleghik. Dhe ble a dalvien fia? Po omgudha? My a galkyas bos dhymm le es 10 mynysenn rag konsydra ow dewisow. Yth esa lies shafta forsakyes mes yth esens nebes pellder dhiworth an dre – ha pur beryllus. Oll an shaftys hag o nessa dhe’n dre re via lettys po lenwys nans yw degblydhynnyow. Ytho, y hyllys ankevi an tybyans na. My a borthas kov my dhe wari, pan en vy fleghik, y’n park lowsoniethel. Rag tre vyghan lowr, hemm o park pur deg. Pan o brassa an dre, yn termynyow sewenus (drefenn an owr), an vurjysi rych re ervirsa bos edhomm dh’aga thre a le a’n par na rag aga gwari jentyl. Onan yntr’an vurjysi re henwis hogen lynn an park warlergh y wreg, Johanna hy hanow. Lynn vras lowr o, ynys y gres may hwrug an heyji ha’n ydhyn aga neythow ha may hallsens maga aga miles yowynk. Ha, dres henna, nyns esa an park saw ogas dhe 100m dhiworth an orsav, war ryb an dre. Gans chons da, meur a jons da, ni a allsa resek ena kyns o diskudhys strol y’n koch-fardell.

closer
/ yn-nes / adv /

He soon found that the thicket was closer and more tangled than it had appeared. There were no paths in the undergrowth, and they did not get on very fast. When they had struggled to the bottom of the bank, they found a stream running down from the hills behind in a deeply dug bed with steep slippery sides overhung with brambles. Most inconveniently it cut across the line they had chosen. They could not jump over it, nor indeed get across it at all without getting wet, scratched, and muddy. They halted, wondering what to do. ‘First check!’ said Pippin, smiling grimly.
Yn skon, ev a aswonnis an kaswydh dhe vos tewwa ha kolmekka es dell o y semlant. Nyns esa hyns vyth y’n lasneth, ha ny wrussons i mos war-rag yn skon. Pan strivsens I dhe-woeles an dorrlann, i a gavas gover ow frosa diworth an breow a-dhelergha, yn troghva down gans glannow serth ha slynkek ha gordevys gans spedhas. Gans dises meur, ev a droghas yn ewn a-dreus an hyns re dhewissens i. Ny allsens i po lamma dresto po y dreusi vytholl heb dos ha bos glyb, krevys, ha leysek. I a hedhas hag omdybi a-dro dhe’n pyth dh’y wul. ‘Kynsa hedh!’ yn-medh Pypyn yn unn vinhwerthin fell.

While David loitered at the base of the tower, I lay on the uncovered platform – flat on my stomach to avoid being seen – and observed the road. I knew that, for obvious reasons, Captain Mengele could not let us go so easily – and I could not be entirely sure that the Sergeant, upon returning to the base, would not have been forced to divulge what he knew about where he had taken us. After all, he had risked a great deal simply to free us and could not be expected to put his very life on the line for us. (“Aiding the enemy during time of war” was still a capital offence at that time. It was still the firing squad for that sort of thing.) In any event, with about an hour of daylight left, I observed a convoy of, maybe, fifteen vehicles streaming out of the base and coming along the road to Scrub Hill. It must have taken all day to organise such a large search party and this, to my mind, confirmed that Captain Mengele did indeed want us back – or maybe just destroyed. So, the search was on. No problem. We could retreat to our bunker (our own personal ‘Helm’s Deep’?) whenever we chose – there was no rush. I continued to observe the convoy for a time. As it got closer, and I could observe the individual vehicles, I saw the entire convoy slow at a point in the road which was not far away. The leading jeep had broken down and the driver had simply waved the rest of the convoy on. So, it continued to pass him as he lifted the hood of his jeep. A cloud of steam rose immediately. Radiator problems, I guessed. If so, the driver would merely have to wait until the engine cooled sufficiently – and then refill the radiator with water from the jerry can that hung from the back of the vehicle. (One never refills a boiled-dry radiator straight away in case the red-hot engine-head cracks from the sudden change in temperature. Thermal shock, it’s called. That sort of damage cannot be fixed while the vehicle is still on the road. It’s a tow-away – and expensive – job when it happens. Does this sound like the voice of experience? Pass.) So, it was simple – just wait half an hour or so and the vehicle could limp back to base for repairs or catch up with the search convoy (assuming, as I did, that it was not going much further anyway.)
Ha Davydh gwandrys oll a-dro dhe ven an tour, yth esen a’m gorwedh war an vynk – plattyes war ow kloes-diwvronn rag avoydya ow bos gwelys. Yth esen ow mires orth an fordh heb hedhi. Drefenn resons apert, my a wodhya na allsa Kapten Mengele agan gasa mos mar es – ha, dres henna, ny yllyn bos sertan yn tien, hag ev dehwelys dhe’n selva, nag o an Serjont konstrynyes dhe dhisklosya an pyth a wodhya a-dro dhe’n le may fien lywyes. Wosa all, peryllus dres eghenn re via y wriansow pan wrussa agan livra. Ny yllys y waytya ri dhyn ynwedh y veri bywnans. (“Gweres an eskar dres termyn a vresel” o hwath trespas kapytal y’n dydhyow na. Mernans dre vaghas sether rag trespas a’n par na.) Yn neb kas, y remaynya ogas dhe’n our kyns gorthugher pan verkyis rew kertys hag ynno pymthek karr oll anedha ow tos yn-mes an selva a-hys an fordh dhe Vre an Krann. Yn apert, res via oll an jydh rag kuntell warbarth bagas- hwithrans a’n par na ha braster an bagas ma a gonfirmyas dhymm Kapten Mengele dhe vynnes yn feur agan dasgemmeres. Po, martesen, ev a vynna yn sempel agan distruyans. Yndellna, y tallathsa an hwithrans. Kudynnyow vytholl. Y hyllyn kildenna dh’agan dorgell (agan ‘Downder Helm’?) byth pan dhewissen y wul – nyns esa fysk vyth. My a besya observya an rew kertys dres termyn hir lowr. Hag ev neshes, hag ytho y hyllyn gweles yn kler pub karr, an rew dien a dhallathas lenthe war le an fordh nag esa pell a-ves. An kynsa jip re dorrsa hag ytho an lywyer anodho a wevyas dhe oll an re erell dhe besya mos y’n fordh. Yn hwir, an kerri erell a’n tremenas hag ev drehevys kogh an karr. Kommolenn a ethenn a sevis a-dhistowgh. Kudynnyow gans an dhewynnell, dell grysis. Mars o henna yndella, nyns o res dhe’n lywyer marnas y waytyans bys pan vyg’sa lowr an jynn – hag ena daslenwel an dhewynnell gans dowr dhiworth kanna meur esa ow kregi a-dhelergh an jip. Ny yllir lenwel dewynnell sygh a-dhesempis rag own dhe derri an penn-jynn der chanj tynn dh’y dempredh. Jag thermal yw henwys. Ny yllir ewnhe damaj a’n par ma ha’n karr hwath war fordh. Res yw y gemmeres dhe-ves – oberenn ker yw pan hwyrvydh. Yw henna lev-berthyans? Ny lavarav travyth.) Ytho, sempel o – res o gortos ogas dhe hanter-our ha, wosa henna, an karr a allsa dehweles dhe’n selva yn unn gloppya po mos rag drehehdhes an rew kertys. (Yth esen ow tesevos na alsa nameur pella a-hys an fordh, yn neb kas.)

I rested for the remainder of the day, deep within the complex, and sustained myself with more corned beef and tinned vegetables. (I still couldn’t face the dog biscuits.) As evening approached, I moved back to the mouth of the tunnel. Immediately, I could hear noises from outside, close outside. Had the searchers found my hide- away? Were they simply waiting for me to emerge before emptying their machine-gun magazines into me? I fought the urge to retreat back along the tunnel. I waited and listened, my heart pounding a mile a minute. The noises continued, on and off. I had heard them before but when? “No-one lying in wait would be so friggin’ noisy about it,” I reasoned. “Would they?” Then it came to me, the time when I had heard these noises before. “Gronnff! Gronnff! Gronnff! Nunnff! Nunnff!” It was the noise of a zombie feasting on a fresh kill – it could only be David. (What a noisy little eater he was!) With my heart beating out of my chest, I again ventured a peek out of my lair. What did I see? The contented figure of my Brother Zombie, silhouetted in the gathering gloom. I still resisted the urge to bolt from the tunnel and wrap him up in my arms out of sheer relief. Snipers might yet be about, waiting to take both of us out at once. But they weren’t – no snipers hereabouts just yet. I approached David. He was very pleased with himself, wasn’t he? Munch, munch, munch on what looked like a large bit of liver, blood dripping down his arms – just like a child’s ice-cream does on a hot day. And he had something grisly draped around his neck, like some obscene laurel wreath (which was quite appropriate, as it turned out). I took a closer look to confirm that it was indeed what I thought it was. It was as I had thought: a considerable length of someone’s small intestine. (Why are zombies so fixated on people’s intestines? It can’t be healthy, can it?)
My a dhiskwithas dres remenant an jydh, down a-berth y’n system kowfordhow, hag omsostena gans moy bew sellys ha losow-kegin yn kanna. (Ny yllyn hwath godhevel dhe dhybri an tesennow kales rag keun.) Ha neshes an gorthugher, my a dhehwelis dhe borth an chyf kowfordh. A- dhistowgh, y hyllyn klywes sonyow ow tos dhiworth an tu ‘ves, ogas dhymmo vy. A gavsa an hwithoryon ow hovva? Esens yn sempel ow kortos ow dos yn- mes kyns i dhe gwakhe talgelligow aga jynnow-setha ynnov vy? My a vatalyas erbynn an debron dhe gildenna a-hys an gowfordh. My a wortas ha goslowes, ow holonn vy ow lemmel dres komptya. Y fesya an sonyow yn treweythus. My re glywsa kyns sonyow kepar ha’n re ma – mes a-dhia pana termyn? “Denvyth ow kortos a’y worwedh a wrussa kemmys tros,” a brederis vy. “Ny via herwydh reson.” Ena, my a wodhva le may glywsen kyns an sonyow ma. “Gronnff! Gronnff! Gronnff! Nunnff! Nunnff!” Tros o dhe zombi ow kevywi war ladh kro – ytho, nyns o denvyth a-der Davydh. (Ass o dybrer byghan trosek!) Ow holonn ow lemmel yn-mes ow klos-diwvronn, my a assayas arta kemmeres golok skav diworth ow godegh. Pyth a welis vy? Figur kontentys a’m broder-zombi, kylghlinennys erbynn an tewlder ow tevi. My a vatalyas hawth debron dhe resek dhiworth an gowfordh rag y vaylya y’m diwvregh drefenn difresyans sempel. Y hallsa bos hwath kelsethoryon, ow kortos rag agan ladha agan dew yn kettermyn. Byttegyns, nyns o an studh – kelsethoryon vyth hwath ena. My a dheuth nes dhe Dhavydh. Pur bys da o ev. Yth esa ow densel heb hedhi war neppyth a heveli bos tamm meur a avi. Yth esa goes ow dryppya war-nans, a-hys y dhiwvregh – kepar dell dhrypp dyenn rew a fleghik dres dydh toemm. Ha, dres henna, yth esa neppyth grysel ow kregi oll a-dro y gonna, kepar ha neb garlont-lowr (poran gwiw, dell hwer). My a viras orti yn-nes – rag konfirmya hy vos yn hwir pyth a’s kryssen bos. Hi o ‘lovan’ hir gwrys a kolon meur. (Pur dhe-les yw kolodhyon dhe zombis mes prag yth yw henna? Nyns yw yagh!)

David stepped towards me and gently lifted the cat from my grip. The cat instantly calmed down. The fucking thing started purring as he held it! Another of the zombies came forward and seemingly begged David to pass it over. “Gween”? Was this a word? Was this the cat’s name? Can’t say – I never did hear a zombie, any zombie, utter another syllable – at that time. I was having trouble getting my head around the situation: I was in a fetid den with a bunch of zombies – many of whom had, no doubt, recently slaughtered and eaten their fellow students – and now they were fussing over this rotten cat just like so many old women! The Catholic church almost exterminated the domestic cat in Europe during the Middle Ages – on the basis that it was the servant of the Devil or some such. What a load of superstitious nonsense, eh? Eh? Despite the coolness of our welcome, David seemed intent on spending the night among his fellows – and amid the rank, decaying filth that lay all about. “Nice little place you got here, Fellas,” I said. “I like the way you’ve decorated it.” No response. Zombies apparently have no sense of irony. But I knew I would be safe there – and nowhere else but where David was. So, I stayed. But I didn’t actually get any sleep. You might think I was nervous about one of my co-residents suddenly requiring a midnight snack. But no! I was now quite certain that David’s presence protected me absolutely from zombie attack. What kept me awake was that friggin’ tortoiseshell cat. It parked itself in the opposite corner of the room and kept me under constant observation. I could see its wide green eyes glowing in the dark. Whenever I chanced to close my own eyes, it was on the move, creeping ever closer to me. When I opened them again, it retreated. “This is ridiculous,” I thought. “It’s just a little pussy cat. You need some sleep, Pete.”
Davydh a dheuth ogas dhymm ha drehevel an gath yn jentyl dhiworth ow gavel. A-dhistowgh, an gath eth ha bos kosel. An dra euthyk ma a dhallathas purrya hag ev hy dalgennys! Huni arall yntr’an zombis a dheuth yn-rag ha pledya gans Davydh rag hy ri dhodho. “Gwin”? O hemma ger gwir? O hemma hanow an gath? Ny allav leverel – ny glywis nevra zombi vyth leverel syllabenn arall – y’n tor’ na. Kales o my dhe wonvedhes an studh: yth esov yn fow fleurys gans bagas zombis – hag i ledhys a-gynsow (ha dybrys) aga hesstudhyoryon – ha, lemmyn, yth esens ow fysla a-dro dhe’n gath vreyn ma kepar dell wra fysla keniver benynes koth! Namna dhifeudhas an eglos Gatholik an gath dovhes yn Europa dres an Oesow Kres – drefenn hy bos gwas an jowl po neppyth haval. Ass o bern flows euvergryjyk, a nyns o ev? Dar? Yn despit dhe yeynder agan dynnargh, yth heveli Davydh dhe ervira tremena an nos yn mysk y gowetha – hag yn mysk an lastedhes mosek hag ow pedri esa ow korwedha oll a-dro. “Ass yw hemma trigva hweg, ow sos,” yn-medhav. “Da yw genev an fordh may hwrussowgh hy afina.” Gorthyp vyth. Yn apert, nyns eus syns a eseth dhe zombis. Byttegyns, my a wodhya ow bos salow ena – ha le arall vyth saw mayth esa Davydh. Ytho, my a remaynyas. Mes, yn hwir, ny ylli koska. Possybyl yw ty dhe grysi ow bos nervus yn kever edhomm dhe’m kestrigoryon a gavoes a- dhesempis kroust-hanternos. Mes nyns o yndella! Y’n tor’ na, yth en poran sertan ow bos gwithys yn tien erbynn omsettyans an zombis gans lok Davydh. An dra a wrug dhymm triga difun o an gath driliw euthyk na. Hi re ombarksa yn korn an stevell ha’m gwitha prest war arhwithrans. My a ylli gweles hy dewlagas glas ledan a wolowi y’n tewlder. Peskweyth may tegeis ow dewlagas, hi a dhallathas gwaya, ow pedrevanas yn-nes dhymmo vy. Peskweyth mayth aga tasigeris, hi a wrug kildenna. “Ass yw hemma gokki,” a brederis vy. “Nyns yw a-der kathik vyghan. Res yw dhis nebes kosk, ‘Beder.” 43

closer
/ en-nes / adv /

closer
yn-nes

closer
/ yn nes / / /

come2 (v.) (bas.) move nearer; move closer; approach; arrive donez, doz; climax; orgasm berwel, antertha, doz; ~ across as seem; appear heveli, ~ after follow; come behind siwya, ~ apart disintegrate omdharna, ~ back return dehwelez, ~ behind follow; come after
come2 (v.) (bas.) move nearer; move closer; approach; arrive donez, doz; climax; orgasm berwel, antertha, doz; ~ across as seem; appear heveli, ~ after follow; come behind siwya, ~ apart disintegrate omdharna, ~ back return dehwelez, ~ behind follow; come after

get closer
/ nesha / / /

and come closer to me
/ ha dhymmo deus nes / / /

closer
en-nes [gorer / adverb]

the ones who come closer
/ an re a dheu nes / / /

closer
/ yn-nes / / /

don't come closer
/ na dheus nes / / /

gettin' closer
/ ow neshe / / /

nearer - closer
nes [ gorer ]

closer
yn-nes [gorer / adverb]

get closer
/ dos nes / / /

closer en-nes KERNEWEK DIWEDHES ADVERB , yn-nes KERNEWEK KRES ADVERB
closer en-nes KERNEWEK DIWEDHES ADVERB , yn-nes KERNEWEK KRES ADVERB

getting closer
/ ow neshe / / /

If I, I get to know your name Well, if I could trace your private number, baby All I know is that to me You look like you're lots of fun Open up your lovin' arms I want some, want some I set my sights on you (And no one else will do) And I, I've got to have my way now, baby All I know is that to me You look like you're havin' fun Open up your lovin' arms Watch out, here I come You spin me right 'round, baby Right 'round like a record, baby Right 'round, 'round, 'round You spin me right 'round, baby Right 'round like a record, baby Right 'round, 'round, 'round I, I got to be your friend now, baby And I would like to move in just a little bit closer All I know is that to me You look like you're lots of fun Open up your lovin' arms Watch out, here I come You spin me right 'round, baby Right 'round like a record, baby Right 'round, 'round, 'round You spin me right 'round, baby Right 'round like a record, baby Right 'round, 'round, 'round I want your love I want your love I need your love I need your love
Mar, mar tiskudhav dha hanow Wel y, y hallav kavos dha niver privedh Oll y hwonn del hevel dhymm Leun a dhelit yth os ta Ygor dha dhiwvregh garadow Y fynnav nebes Y firav saw orthis (Ha denvyth aral a serv) Ha dhymm, res yw kavos ow desir, melder Oll y hwonn del hevel dhymm Leun a dhelit yth os ta Ygor dha dhiwvregh garadow Bydh war ottavy Y'm troylydh oll 'dro, melder Oll 'dro avel plasen, melder, Oll 'dro-dro-dro Y'm troylydh oll 'dro, melder Oll 'dro avel plasen, melder, Oll 'dro-dro-dro Dhymm, res yw bos dha goweth, melder Ha dhymm, y fia hwans nesa temmik Oll y hwonn del hevel dhymm Leun a dhelit yth os ta Ygor dha dhiwvregh garadow Bydh war ottavy Y'm troylydh oll 'dro, melder Oll 'dro avel plasen, melder, Oll 'dro-dro-dro Y'm troylydh oll 'dro, melder Oll 'dro avel plasen, melder, Oll 'dro-dro-dro Y fynnav ker-en-sa Y fynnav ker-en-sa Yma edhom, a ger-en-sa Yma edhom, a ger-en-sa

closer
/ en-nes / / /

closer - nearer
yn-nes ( ) ( ) ( ) ( ) ( ) ( adverb )