eye doctor oor Kornies

eye doctor

naamwoord

(chiefly US) An ophthalmologist.

Vertalings in die woordeboek Engels - Kornies

medhek lagajow

medhek lagasow

voorbeelde

eye doctor
/ medhek lagajow / / /

eye doctor
/ medhek lagasow / / /

♦ to s. myself rag omsawya ow hònan WJ; to s. our children rag sawya gan flehes BM; God s. us all Duw reffo gan sawya oll JT; May God s. him Duw reffa y sawya; if nothing is done to s. C. mar pedh tra veth gwres dhe witha Kernôwek NB; to s.one who is lost dhe sawya neb eus kellys WJ; we should s. them da ew dhe nei ga sawya WJ; and he sd them ha ev o sawyas WR; (we) must s. what there is res ew sawya an peth eus WJ; as you are a saviour, I pray thee in charity to s. my eyes pecar (< kepar) dell os selwyas, my a’th pys en cherita a sawya ow dew lagas PC; there is ever a great doctor saving people, certainly ema prest üdn medhek brâs ow sawya tüs en certen BM; blind me, he will s., and deaf men also tüs dal ev a wra sawya ha tüs vodher mageta BM; to s. the sheep that were lost and gone astray rag sawya an devas o kellys ha gellys dhe stray TH; all the doctors in this world can never s. (cure) him oll an doctours en bes-ma beth na ellons (ny yllons) y sawya PC; those who would be sd. seul a vynno bos selwys PA; he saves! SPORT (an bel) Ma va ort hy stoppya !; Ev a's stoppyas !; >
♦ to s. myself rag omsawya ow hònan WJ; to s. our children rag sawya gan flehes BM; God s. us all Duw reffo gan sawya oll JT; May God s. him Duw reffa y sawya; if nothing is done to s. C. mar pedh tra veth gwres dhe witha Kernôwek NB; to s.one who is lost dhe sawya neb eus kellys WJ; we should s. them da ew dhe nei ga sawya WJ; and he sd them ha ev o sawyas WR; (we) must s. what there is res ew sawya an peth eus WJ; as you are a saviour, I pray thee in charity to s. my eyes pecar (< kepar) dell os selwyas, my a’th pys en cherita a sawya ow dew lagas PC; there is ever a great doctor saving people, certainly ema prest üdn medhek brâs ow sawya tüs en certen BM; blind me, he will s., and deaf men also tüs dal ev a wra sawya ha tüs vodher mageta BM; to s. the sheep that were lost and gone astray rag sawya an devas o kellys ha gellys dhe stray TH; all the doctors in this world can never s. (cure) him oll an doctours en bes-ma beth na ellons (ny yllons) y sawya PC; those who would be sd. seul a vynno bos selwys PA; he saves! SPORT (an bel) Ma va ort hy stoppya !; Ev a's stoppyas !; >

THE INFIRMARY The next thing I remember was coughing up blood. I was no longer in the decompression chamber. I couldn’t focus my eyes – and I was so ill that I didn’t give a rat’s arse where I was. Deep, excoriating coughs seized me time and time again – and, time and time again, great gouts of coagulating blood emerged from my throat. Do you know how shitty you feel when you’ve got a stomach upset and you start ‘heaving your heart out’? Multiply that by 50 times. “If these are my actual lungs that I am coughing up,” I wondered, “ how on Earth am I still breathing?” A young nurse was attending me and catching my bloody ejecta in a shiny metal bowl. She showed no sign of disgust. She didn’t ask me to speak. She could see that I was beyond speech. She smiled encouragingly at me and stroked the still- raw scorch marks that she could see on my bare forearm. That was nice. “What evil have they done to you?” she whispered, apparently to herself. There were curtains drawn about my bed. Was that to protect my privacy or to keep prying eyes away? I saw a silhouetted head briefly appear at the side of one curtain. I could not make out the features of the backlit face but I felt sure it was Doctor Ingrid. The silhouette lingered for a few seconds only, long enough to exchange a glance but no words with the nurse attending me. Then it was gone. “You know she saved your life, young fella,” said the nurse, simply. “Tell!” I rasped. (Actually, I meant to say “Tell me!” but the second word did not come.) The nurse looked uncertain about this. Would she get into trouble for telling me what she had seen or heard?
AN VEDHEGVA An nessa tra a allav perthi kov anedhi o pasans goes. Nyns esen na fella y’n chambour diwaskans. Ny yllyn dri ow dewlagas dhe ewn fog – hag yth en mar glav ma na synsyn poynt a’n le mayth esen. Y settya dalghenn warnav, prys ha prys arta, pasow down ha tynn dres eghenn – ha, prys ha prys arta, y teuth dhiworth ow bryansenn klottys meur goesek. A wodhesta dell omglywir kawghek pan eus dhis kleves hwyja ha ty a dhalleth ‘trywa dha golonn yn-mes’? Gwra an omglywyans na bos lieshes gans hanterkans. “Mars esov yn hwir ow pasa ow skevens yn-mes,” a omwovynnis, “ fatell allav hwath anella, re’n jyowl?” Yth esa klavjiores yowynk owth attendya dhymm. Yth esa hi ow kuntell ow dyllans goesek yn bolla lentrus ha metelyek. Ny wovynnas hi orthymm kewsel. Hi a wodhya ow bos dres kows. Ev a vinhwarthas orthymm (rag ow hennertha, dell heveli) ha palva yn jentyl an merkyow goleskans, hwath rughgogh, a allsa gweles war ow ragvregh noeth. Hweg o henna. “Py par droktra re wrussons dhis?” a hwystras hi, dh’y honan yn apert. Yth esa kroglennow tennys oll a-dro dhe’m gweli. Rag gwitha ow frivetter po rag lettya dewlagas an dus erell rag ow gweles? My a welas kylghlinenn penn omdhiskwedhes dhe du unn groglenn. Ny yllyn gweles fismens an fas o golowys a-dhelergh. Byttegyns, sur ov bos ena Doktour Ingrid. Ny daryas an kylghlinenn saw nebes eylennow, hir lowr rag kesjanya golok – mes geryow vyth – gans an klavjiores owth attendya dhymm. Ena, gyllys o. “Ty a woer hi dhe’th sawya, ow sos yowynk,” yn-medh an glavjiores yn sempel. “Lavar!” yn-medhav ynn-unn-ratha. (Yn hwir, my re vynnsa leverel “Lavar dhymm!” mes ny dhothya an nessa ger. Nyns o sur an glavjiores yn y gever. A via dhedhi kudynn mar lavarra dhymm pyth re welsa po pyth re glywsa hi?

The Aussie ‘veterans’ chewed it over for a few seconds more. Some of them appeared genuinely troubled by what they were now being told – concerned at what they had been doing most recently in the ‘War’. “Nah, Mate,” said the first Australian. “I still think it’s all bull. I seen thousands of zombies over the last week or so and I haven’t seen any that looked, even remotely, like they might get better ...” “Did you look?” interrupted Swooper. “I mean, before you pulled the trigger or threw the grenade?” There was a pause – evidently, he had not. Suddenly, another Aussie – who might have had a bit more to drink than the others broke in: “Nah, nah, nah, Mate! It’s all b.s. Definitely b.s. This guy’s a spy, the one who told you all this. There’s spies in every war. We all know that. That’s why the Doctor Captain had to shut him up.” This new guy was of a rather piggish cast. His face, though still young, ran to jowls – and was definitely rosy-cheeked from all the alcohol he had consumed. As the police would say: “His eyes were glazed, he was unsteady on his feet and his breath smelt of intoxicating liquor.” He was, in short, pissed. Gately was having trouble restraining his growing anger. He turned to the interrupting Aussie: “A spy? Really? Do zombies have a spy network like the CIA or the KGB? How amazing. Perhaps, he’s a double agent – and turns into a zombie himself at night, like a werewolf. What do you think?” The drunken Aussie didn’t appreciate Gately’s sarcasm. He took it very personally. “You! You!” said the intoxicated and inarticulate Aussie. “What would you fucken’ know? You’re just a black cunt, just a fucken’, Yankee abo!” Racial abuse will never win you friends.
An hensoudoryon a ombrederis arta dres pols. Yth heveli nebes anedha dhe vos yn hwir troblys gans an derivadow ma – troblys gans aga gweythresow a- gynsow dres an ‘Vresel’. “Na, ‘Vata,” yn-medh an kynsa Ostralian. “My a grys hwath bos kawgh, oll anodho. My re welas milyow a zombis dres an diwettha seythunyow ha ny welis kemmys y’ga mysk a heveli bos owth omyaghhe – yn hwir, mann yntredha ...” “A wrussysta mires orta, gans rach?” a wodorras Stevyer. “Henn yw leverel, kyns ty dhe denna an denell, po kyns ty dhe dewlel an granada?” Yth esa powes – yn apert, ny wrussa yndella. A-dhistowgh, Ostralian arall a wodorras ynwedh– hag, dell heveli, yth esa moy a dhiwes ynno: “Na, na, na, ‘Vata! Kawgh-oll yw. Yn sertan, kawgh-oll. An polat ma yw aspier, an huni re leveris oll anodho. Yn pub bresel, yma pup-prys aspioryon. Oll an bys a woer henna. Henn yw an acheson o res dhe’n Kapten-Medhek y wul tawesek.” Yth esa dhe’n polat nowydh ma semlans hogh. Yth esa dh’y fas, kynth o hwath yowynk, dewjal hag ynwedh diwvogh gwynnrudh – drefenn oll an diwosow re evsa. Kepar dell lavar gwithyas-kres herwydh usadow: “Y dhewlagas o omwedrys, ev o deantell war y dewdroes ha dh’y anall yth esa fler a las medhowans.” War verr lavarow, medhow dall o. Yth esa kaletter dhe Borther lettya y sorr ow tevi. Ev a dreylyas dhe’n Ostralian ow koderri: “Aspier? Yn hwir? Eus dhe’n zombis roesweyth aspioryon kepar ha’n CIA po an KGB? Ass yw henna marthys. Martesen, mayner dewblek yw – ha, nosweyth, ev a dheu ha bos zombi. Martesen, ev yw kepar gourvleydh. Gourzombi! Pyth a brederydh?” Nyns o da kows asper Porther gans an Ostralian medhow. Arvedhys dres eghenn o. “Ty! Ty!” yn-medh an Ostralian medhow, nebes kelmys y daves. “Pyth a wodhvies? Nyns osta saw kons dhu euthyk, saw Yanki-Genesik euthyk!” Ny yllir nevra gwaynya felshyp dre dhespityans aghel.

“I was there on Day One, sister! I saw all those kids bitten by those first zombies – the ones who appeared from nowhere. I saw most of the guys who got bitten become zombies – or just be torn apart, destroyed. But, I also saw guys, very close friends of mine, get bitten, get sick and then recover! They ended up as well as you or I are now – or, at least, as well as you are now...” I saw her wince a little at this oblique reference to the injuries that I had suffered (at least, indirectly) at her hands. Good! I continued: “...I saw this happen with my own two eyes. Those guys recovered completely – though they’ve probably been burnt to a crisp by napalm now. All they had to remind them of their infection were the scars of the zombie bites.” I paused and sighed. Ingrid remained silent. So, I pressed the attack: “But you can believe whatever you want, doctor,” I said, “ because, actually, I don’t care anymore. I know that I’m going to die, too – and, unless I miss my guess, the “Angel of Death” will be arranging for my, very painful, passing very shortly – when he has no further experimental use for me or David. Maybe he can arrange for a ton of napalm to be dropped on me as well? What do you think?” This was a bit of theatrics on my part. I didn’t really believe that my death was so imminent – I considered that I was still far too ‘useful’ to the Captain’s research – whatever that really was (apart from sadism). I thought he might kill me but that, if that happened in the near future, it was more likely to be by experimental error or oversight. Furthermore, you will have noted that, in talking to Ingrid, I had glossed over one very salient fact: my friends had indeed survived zombie bites but they had never become zombies themselves. I knew of no case where a zombie had reverted to normalcy. As far as I knew, this was impossible. It was a definite one-way street – but Doctor Ingrid did not need to know that. “So, these guys, the ones who recovered, what do you think made them different from all the other guys – the ones who stayed being zombies?”
“Dydh Onan, yth esen vy ena, ow hwoer! My a welas oll an yonkers na bos brethys gans an kynsa zombis – an re a omdhiskwedhas dhiworth le vyth. My a welas an brassa rann anedha dhe dhos ha bos zombis – po dhe vos skwardyes yn temmyn, distruys oll. Byttegyns, my a welas keffrys nebes yonkers, sos meurgerys genev, dhe vos brethys, klavhes hag ena dhe vos omwellhes yn tien! Henn yw leverel, yth esens mar yagh avelos hag avelov lemmyn – po, dhe’n lyha, mar yagh avelos jy lemmyn ...” My a welas hy flynchya nebes drefenn an kampoellans konvedhys ma dhe’n meschyvyow re via vysytyes warnav der hy diwla (yn andidro, dhe’n lyha). Pur dha! My a besyas: “Y hwelis vy an hwarvosow ma gans ow dewlagas ow honan. An yonkers na re wellhasa yn tien – kynth yns lemmyn, yn hwirhaval, leskys oll kresik gans napalm. Rag kov aga klevesans, nyns esa travyth a-der kreythennow gwrys dre vrathow an zombis.” My a bowesas ha hanasa. Y thriga Ingrid tawesek. Ytho, my a herdhyas a-rag gans an omsettyans: “Byttegyns, ty a yll krysi pypynag a vynnydh, ‘Dhoktour,” yn-medhav, “drefenn, yn hwir, ny vern dhymm na fella. Y hwonn y teu ow mernans yn skon – ha, marnas ow bos kammgemmerys, y fydh “El Mernans” owth ordena yn skon ow thremenans, meur y bayn – pan vydh na fella dhodho devnydh arbrovel ahanan vy po a Dhavydh. Martesen, ev a allsa ordena tonnas napalm dhe vos gesys koedha warnav ynwedh. Pyth a bredeydh a’n tybyans na?” Nebes gwaridiel o hemma, dhe’m part vy. Yn hwir, ny grysyn bos mar dhegynsywyans ow mernans. Y krysyn my dhe vos hwath re ‘dhe les’ rag hwithrans an Kapten – pypynag o henna yn hwir (a-der sadystyeth). My a grysi ev dhe alloes ow ladha mes, mar hwarva henna y’n termyn a dho skon, moy gwirhaval o bos dre gammgemmeryans arbrovel. Dres henna, possybyl yw ty dhe notya, pan vien ow kewsel gans Ingrid, my re liwsa an gwiryonedh nebes: ow hothmans re dreusvywsa yn hwir brathow an zombis mes ny dhothyens nevra ha bos zombis. Ny wodhyen kas vyth may kildreylsa zombi dhe normalyta. Herwydh ow dyskans vy, nag o possybyl an dra – byttegyns, nyns esa edhomm dhe Dhoktour Ingrid a’y dyski. “Ytho, an bolatys ma, an re a omwellhas, pyth a grysydh dhe wul dhedha dihaval dhe oll an bolatys erell – an re a remaynya zombihes.”