long before that oor Kornies

long before that

Vertalings in die woordeboek Engels - Kornies

nans o hirdermyn

nans o hirneth

Soortgelyke frases

a long time before that
nans o hirdermyn · nans o hirneth

voorbeelde

long before that
/ nans o hirneth / / /

long before that
/ nans o hirdermyn / / /

a long time before that
nans o hirdermyn

a long time before that
/ nans o hirneth / / /

a long time before that
/ nans o hirdermyn / / /

a long time before that
nans o hirneth

I ought to do that before long.
Y tegodh dhymm gul henna a verr spys.

I ought to do that before long. / Spys = ‘interval, period’. A verr spys is a set phrase.
Y tegodh dhymm gul henna a verr spys. /

It’s true that they are strangers, but before long we’ll know them well.
Gwir yw i dhe vos estrenyon, mes kyns pell ni a’s aswon yn ta.

It’s true that they are strangers, but before long we’ll know them well. / The present tense with a future meaning.
Gwir yw i dhe vos estrenyon, mes kyns pell ni a’s aswon yn ta. / Gwir yw aga bos...

I heard something like that about the rock Mean Omber; therefore if something is to be done to save Cornish, it must be by others that are born here, and well learned, found but not often, for they are but few, just two or three that I know of, among them one is [...?...] and learned, beyond all the others that were long before them, or will likely come after him.
Tra a'n par-na my a glowas a-dro dhe'n garrek Men Omber; rag hedna mar pedh tra vyth gwres dhe witha Kernowek, ev a dal bos gen ken yw genys obma, ha deskys da, kevys bus [na] menowgh; rag nag ens bus nebes, dew po trei a wora'ma anedha, en-mesk anjei onen yw gwannhes ha deskys, dres oll an re erel a veu dheragtan'jei polta, po a vedn dos woja va dres lycklod.

Before long the wood came to a sudden end. Wide grass-lands stretched before them. They now saw that they had, in fact, turned too much to the south. Away over the flats they could glimpse the low hill of Bucklebury across the River, but it was now to their left. Creeping cautiously out from the edge of the trees, they set off across the open as quickly as they could.
Kyns pell, an koes a worfennas a-dhesempis. Tir ledan a wels a ystynnas a-ragdha. I a allsa gweles lemmyn i dhe dreylya re dhe’n deghow yn hwir. Pell dhe-ves, a-dreus an tirleven*4, i a allas goweles*5 bre isel Bukelbury a-dreus an Avon, mes yth esa hi a-gledh lemmyn. I a greupyas gans rach diworth amal an koes ha dalleth a-dreus an tirleven mar skon ha gallsons.

before long kens ~ ken na pell WJ; kens pell; b. now kens lebmyn; b. that kens ena Lh. kenzenna; conj. ken, kens; kens es; derag, phr. b. we eat kens es nei dhe dhebry; not b. na hens; and not b. ha na hens NB. In TH, SA. Kens is used only in kens lebmyn ‘before now’
before long kens ~ ken na pell WJ; kens pell; b. now kens lebmyn; b. that kens ena Lh. kenzenna; conj. ken, kens; kens es; derag, phr. b. we eat kens es nei dhe dhebry; not b. na hens; and not b. ha na hens NB. In TH, SA. Kens is used only in kens lebmyn ‘before now’

Frodo had a very trying time that afternoon. A false rumour that the whole household was being distributed free spread like wildfire; and before long the place was packed with people who had no business there, but could not be kept out. Labels got torn off and mixed, and quarrels broke out. Some people tried to do swaps and deals in the hall; and others tried to make off with minor items not addressed to them, or with anything that seemed unwanted or unwatched. The road to the gate was blocked with barrows and handcarts.
An dohajydh na o termyn pur gales rag Frodo. Kyhwedhel fals a lesas: yth esa synsas dien an chi ow pos res dhe dus heb kost; kyns pell, an chi o stoffys gans tus heb negys ena, mes ny allsons i bos gwithys dhe-ves. Libelow a dheuth ha bos removys ha kemmyskys, disputyansow a dhallathas. Neb tus a assayas gul keschanjyow ha dyghtyansow y’n hel; tus arall a assayas gasa gans taklennow vyghan na vos merkys ragdha, po gans neb taklenn anwithys. Fordh dhe’n yet o lettys gans gravadhow-ros ha kertow-dorn.

I went walking yesterday And visited the old church There is in that place, and I swear it An extremely large stone, circular in shape St Levan is the name of the hamlet and the saint And unless you are a crippled man or woman You’d do best to rush off to the valley For the cleft is ever increasing And while I was walking on the cliff It went on growing still more I reckon without doubt the end of the world Is coming to us before long According to the old legend St Levan would like to sit On the granite rock When good fisherman, he felt tired So he said, if the cleft should become A gap big enough to let through A loaded horse bearing two panniers At that very hour, judgement day will be upon us There’s nothing we can do about these prophetic words I reckon there’s no doubt the end of the world Is coming to us before long. St Levan, can it be That our Father is so angry at the state of the world That by the large cleft in your grey stone He is warning us that our judgement day is about to come – from end to end. I went walking yesterday And visited the old church There is in that place, and I swear it An extremely large stone, circular in shape St Levan is the name of the hamlet and the saint And unless you are a crippled man or woman You’d do best to rush off to the valley For the cleft is ever increasing And while I was walking on the cliff It went on growing still more; I reckon without doubt the end of the world Is coming to us before long! Is coming to us before long! Is coming to us before long!
Yth esen vy ow kerdhes de Ha mos a wrug dhe'n eglos koth Ena yma, ha my a'n te Men euthek bras ha krenn y roth Selevan yw hanow a'n dre ha'n sans Ha marnas hwi yw den po benyn mans Gwell yw dhywgh hwi mos toth da bys dhe’n nans Rag bos an fals byth owth ynkressya Ha my ow kerdhes war an als Y hwrug hi pesya hwath Dhe'm tybyans vy, diwedh an bys heb mar A dheu dhyn hware! Herwydh an henhwedhel ankoth Y hwre Selevan esedha War'n men growanek a'y vodh Pan o skwith an pyskador da Ha del leveris ev, an fals pan vo Bolgh ledan lowr tremena may hallo Margh kargys gans dew banyer warnodho Dhe'n eur bur na dydh breus a vydh dhyn ni A'n geryow profosek ma Travydh ny yllyn ni gul Dhe'm tybyans vy diwedh an bys heb mar A dheu dhyn hware! Selevan, a yll bos Agan Tas ni mar serrys yn kever studh an bys Dre fals bras y'th fen loos Ma’gan gwarn ev bos distowgh agan dydh breus, hys-a-hys Yth esen vy ow kerdhes de Ha mos a wrug dhe'n eglos koth Ena yma, ha my a'n te Men euthek bras ha krenn y roth Selevan yw hanow a'n dre ha'n sans Ha marnas hwi yw den po benyn mans Gwell yw dhywgh hwi mos toth da bys dhe'n nans Rag bos an fals byth owth ynkressya Ha my ow kerdhes war an als Y hwrug hi pesya hwath Dhe'm tybyans vy, diwedh an bys heb mar A dheu dhyn hware! A dheu dhyn hware! A dheu dhyn hware!

At last they came to a narrow gate in a thick hedge. Nothing could be seen of the house in the dark: it stood back from the lane in the middle of a wide circle of lawn surrounded by a belt of low trees inside the outer hedge. Frodo had chosen it, because it stood in an out-of-the-way corner of the country, and there were no other dwellings close by. You could get in and out without being noticed. It had been built a long while before by the Brandybucks, for the use of guests, or members of the family that wished to escape from the crowded life of Brandy Hall for a time. It was an old-fashioned countrified house, as much like a hobbit-hole as possible: it was long and low, with no upper storey; and it had a roof of turf, round windows, and a large round door.
Wostiwedh, i a gavas yet gul yn ke tew. Ny allsons i gweles an chi y’n tewlder: ev a sevis dhe-ves diworth an bownder yn mysk kylgh efan a wels, kyrghynnys gans gwydh isel a-ji dhe’n ke. Frodo re’n dewisis drefenn ev dhe vos desedhys yn kornell gosel an pow, ha nyns esa annedh arall vyth nes dhodho. Y hyllir mos a-ji hag yn-mes heb bos gwelys. Ev re beu drehevys nans o termyn hir gans an Brandibukow rag gwestoryon, po rag eseli a’n teylu re vynnsa mos dhe-ves diworth bywnans bysi Hel brandi dre bols. Chi gis koth o, chi a’n powdir, kepar ha toll-hobyt kemmys hag y hyllir y wul: hir hag isel o, gans unn leur ha to a wels, fenestri kylghyek ha daras a-rag kylghyek bras.

I could live a thousand years in this tongue. Before I got old. They say never does good come. Of a tongue too long . But my tongue is. A vast place, a city of memory . That I can stretch out in. Like a fern unfurling. As my tongue stretches far. A tongue just long enough . To bridge oceans. And span centuries. A tongue where music * Rolls onto our shores. And surrounds us. And permeates us. And reconnecting with it . Mother city, mother tongue. Is like: The weaving of a web. The thundering of fire in the heart† Growing gorse in an ordered garden. Reaching out a hand and raising a fist. Filling a vessel, air in the lungs. Newly living
My a alsa bewa mil vledhen y’n taves ma . Kyns my dhe gothhe. Y leverir ny wra nevra dos mas. Dhe daves re hir. Mes ow thaves yw. Le efan, sita kov. May hallav omystyn ynni. Kepara redenen owth ankrullya. Dell wra ow thaves omystyn pell. Taves poran hir lowr . Rag gul pons dres keynvoryow . Ha treusi kansvledhynnyow. Taves may hwra ilow. Rolya war’gan morebow. Ha’gan kerghynna Ha’gan dewana Hag yth o dasjunya gensi Mammdra, mammyeth Kepara: Gwia gwias. Tarenna tan an golon. Tevi eythin yn garden rewlys. Ystyn leuv ha drehevel dorn. Lenwel lester, ayr y’n skevens. Bewa nowydh

‘Yes, sir. I don’t know how to say it, but after last night I feel different. I seem to see ahead, in a kind of way. I know we are going to take a very long road, into darkness; but I know I can’t turn back. It isn’t to see Elves now, nor dragons, nor mountains, that I want - I don’t rightly know what I want: but I have something to do before the end, and it lies ahead, not in the Shire. I must see it through, sir, if you understand me.’
‘Ya, syrr. Ny wonn fatell dh’y leverel, mes wosa nyhewer, my a omglyw dihaval. My a wel war-rag, dell hevel, yn neb maner. My a woer ni dhe gerdhes fordh pur hir, yn tewlder; mes my a woer na allav vy treylya dhe-ves. Nyns yw ow hwans, lemmyn, dhe weles Elfow, na dhragones, na venydhyow – ny woer yn hwir an pyth a vynnav: mes yma res dhymm gul neppyth kyns an diwedh, hag yma ev a-ragov, nyns usi ev y’n Shayr. Y tal dhymm dh’y wul, syrr, a gonvedhydh?’

Having seen the glow at the window, I decided the best way to check it out was to exit from the small pedestrian gate on the West side of the cemetery (which faced Princes Park and was, presumably, unguarded) and then to circle back to the far side of the gatekeeper’s house. In this way, I would avoid having to go near the main (vehicular) gate to the South. This was immediately adjacent to machine gun emplacement and was, presumably, still guarded. My plan, to that extent, was sound. The Western gate was indeed unguarded but the main entrance had a guard seated on a chair and was armed with a sub- machine gun. As I circled around the far side of the gatekeeper’s house, this would have proven quite daunting – except for the fact that I could hear the guard’s resonant snoring long before I could see him. The guard, at least, thought the zombie terror had passed. This gave me time to observe without fear of being observed. There was no barrier at the gate – any vehicle could simply drive through if its driver chose to. And there was a number of vehicles still parked about 75m or so inside the gates – a reasonable distance from the sleeping guard: a good thing if one felt like trying to commandeer one of them. There were three jeeps and a khaki-coloured Holden utility. Did they have their keys in the ignition or would one have to spend precious time to ‘hot-wire’ them? (Not that a boy with a good Catholic upbringing would know about such things!) That would remain to be seen. I turned my attention to the gatekeeper’s residence itself. On the veranda, stood six pairs of boots, all neatly lined up in military fashion. Did this mean there was now a total of seven soldiers in the squad (assuming the guard still had his boots on)? Well, I decided it meant that there were no less than seven – maybe not everyone thought that their boots needed air. Also, there was a hat-rack, under cover, on the veranda and, on it, hung three slouch-hats, typical of the Australian Army.
Wosa my dhe weles an golow der an fenestri, my a dhetermyas an gwella fordh rag y hwithra. My a wrussa gasa an ynkleudhva der an yet vyghan a’n howlsedhes – esa a-dal Park an Pennsevik hag, yn hwirhaval, anwithys. Ena, my a gerdhsa yn kylgh ledan rag drehedhes du arall chi an porther. Y’n fordh na, my a allsa avoydya owth omneshe dhe borth a-dhyghowbarth an ynkleudhva – mayth esa gwrys devnydh herwydh usadow gans kerri-tan. Dres henna, yth esa an porth ma ogas dhe’n ynworrans rag jynn-setha poes (a via gwithys hwath, yn sur). Y provas ow thowl bos gwiw. Yn hwir, anwithys o an yet a’n Howlsedhes mes yth esa gwithyas a’y esedh a-rag an chyf entrans, dhe’n dyghowbarth, ha ganso gonn isel-jynn. Ha my omgylghyes a-dro dhe du arall chi an porther, an presens ma a withyas ha’y wonn a allsa bos poran kudynnyasek. Byttegyns, my a ylli klywes ronkow, meur aga dhasson, an gwithyas termyn hir kyns my dhe alloes y weles. An gwithyas ma, dhe’n lyha, a brederis nag esa na fella browagh-zombi. Hag ytho yth esa termyn dhymm rag observya - heb own a’m bos observyes. Nyns esa lett vyth orth an porth ma – oll an kerri-tan a allsa yn sempel tremena mar tewisas aga lywyoron gul yndella. Hag yth esa lies karr parkyes hwath a- dro dhe 75 m a-berth y’n yetys – pellder lowr dhiworth an gwithyas ow koska. Da o henna mar mynnys assaya sesya onan anedha. Yth esa tri jip ha les-karr Holden, kaki y liw. Esa dhedha dialhwedhyow y’ga florenn-enowans – po a via res spena termyn presyous rag aga gul tredanhes fast? (Ny wodhvia mab da, gans adhyskans stroeth ha katholik, a-dro dhe’n taklow a’n par na, heb mar!) Y trigsa henna bos gwelys. My a dreylyas ow aspians dhe drigva an porther hy honan. Yth esa ow sevel, war an borthva, dew ha dew, dewdhek botasenn – oll anedha yn aray breselek. A styrya hemma bos lemmyn seyth souder, yn sommenn, y’n para? (My a dheseva an gwithyas dhe vos hwath gans y votasennow.) Wel, my a erviras y stryryas henna nag esa le ages seyth souder - parhapp ny gryssa oll anedha bos edhomm a ayr dh’aga botasennow. Ynwedh, yth esa ynwedh a-berth y’n veranda, ha gwithys ganso, rastell-hattys ha warnodho tri hatt ledan medhel, herwydh usadow an Lu Ostralek.

‘I don’t know,’ said Frodo. It came to me then, as if I was making it up; but I may have heard it long ago. Certainly it reminds me very much of Bilbo in the last years, before he went away. He used often to say there was only one Road; that it was like a great river: its springs were at every doorstep, and every path was its tributary. “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door,” he used to say. “You step into the Road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to. Do you realize that this is the very path that goes through Mirkwood, and that if you let it, it might take you to the Lonely Mountain or even further and to worse places?” He used to say that on the path outside the front door at Bag End, especially after he had been out for a long walk.’
‘Ny wonn,’ a leveris Frodo. ‘Hi a dheuth dhymm y’n pols na, haval my dh’y wul; mes martesen my re’s klywsa nans yw termyn hir. Yn sur, hi a dhri dhe’m brys kovyow a Bylbo y’n diwettha blydhynyow, kyns ev dhe vones dhe-ves. Lieskweyth, ev a leveri na vos marnas unn Fordh; ha hi dhe vos haval dhe avon meur: gans fentenyow dhe bub gradh-daras, ha pub hyns dhe vos hy ragavon. “Negys peryllus yw, Frodo, mos yn-mes a’th taras a-rag,” dell leveri ev. “Ty a wra kamm y’n Fordh, ha mar ny withydh maystri a’th tewdroes, ny wodhes an le may fes kemmerys dhedhi. A wodhydh homma dhe vos an keth hyns a vones dres Murkwud, ha mar y’s gassi, hi a’th kemmerri dhe’n Menydh Morynysek*2 po dhe dylleryow pella ha gweth?” Ev a leveri henna dhe’n hyns a-der daras a-rag Bag End, yn arbennik, wosa ev dhe wul kerdhes hir.’

CHAPTER 19 WHY THE CAPTAIN WANTED A ZOMBIE Good news: neither David nor I received an immediate bullet to the brain. Bad news: both of us were blindfolded, bundled into the back of a military paddy-wagon and found ourselves bumping along a rural highway for a very, very long time. (Or did it just seem that way?) The paddy-wagon was roughly sprung to the point where I felt every pothole, every bump and undulation on that roadway – and there were many. My hands and feet were bound securely and so it was difficult to remain sitting upright. I couldn’t be sure what David was doing – other than roaring and moaning at irregular intervals. “Shut up, Dave!” I screamed – to no obvious effect. And the back of the paddy-wagon smelt distinctly of urine and vomit – both sharp and sour. My guess was that its usual occupants were soldiers who had had a big night on the town and needed some ‘assistance’ getting back to their base. When you close your eyes, travel time becomes distorted. I know of this from empirical research. What sort of research, you ask? Good question: try closing your eyes on the way home from work – whether travelling by train, tram or bus – and only open them when you think you have arrived at your train/tram/bus stop. Go on, try it. I guarantee you’ll always re-open your eyes long before you get near your accustomed stop (unless, of course, you fall asleep). On this particular occasion, of course, I was blindfolded and had no idea of how long the trip actually took. So, I believed the trip was actually many hours longer than it really was. Does that make sense? No matter, it’s just another digression. In any event, the paddy-wagon eventually came to a juddering halt – but not before I was physically spent from the effort of remaining upright whilst bound hand and foot.
AN ACHESON MAY FYNNA AN KAPTEN ZOMBI. Nowodhow da: ny dhegemmersa na Davydh na my, a-dhistowgh yn neb kas, pellenn dh’agan ympynnyon. Nowodhow drog: yth esa, agan dew, maylyes agan dewlagas ha tewlys y’n delergh kertik breselek. Ni a omgavas bos ow ponkya a-hys fordh bowel dres termyn hir, termyn hir dres eghenn. (Po, esa owth heveli bos yndellna?) Yth o tergh an kertik pur gales. My a ylli omglywes pub toll ha pub boemm ha pub tonn dhiworth an fordh na, meur aga niver. Kelmys fast o’m diwla ha’m dewdroes mayth o kales dhe driga owth esedha syth. Ny yllyn bos sur pyth esa Davydh ow kul – a-der bedhygla ha hanasa hepken, yn treweythyus. “Gas dha son, ‘Dhav!” a skrijis vy – heb effeyth apert vyth. Yth esa fler drog yn delergh an kertik, fler a urin, fler a hwyj – tynn ha trenk. Dell heveli, tremenysi an kertik, herwydh usadow, o soudoryon wosa ‘nos vras’ y’n tre ha mayth esa dhedha edhomm a ‘weres’ rag dehweles dhe’n selva. Pan dhegeydh dha dhewlagas, y teuth ha bos omgemmys termyn lavuryans. Sur a hemma a allav bos anodho drefenn ow hwithrans empirek. Py par a hwithrans, a wovynnydh? Govynn da. Gwra assaya dhe dhegea dha dhewlagas ha ty ow lavurya dhe-dre dhiworth dha soedh – yn tren, yn stret-karr po yn kyttrin. Ha na wra assaya aga dasigeri marnas pan grysydh dha neshe orth dha orsav dha honan. Dhe wir, assay an dra. My a ambos orthis ty dhe dhasigeri dha dhewlagas pup- prys termyn hir kyns es ty dhe dhrehedhes an orsav herwydh dha usadow (marnas ty a goedh yn kosk, heb mar.) Y’n prys ma, maylyes ow dewlagas, nyns esa dhymm tybyans vyth a-dro dhe bellder gwir an vyaj. Ytho, my a grysi bos an vyaj lies our hirra es dell o yn hwir. Eus reson rag an lavar ma? Na. Ny vern, nyns yw travyth a-der gwandrans arall. Yn neb kas, wostiwedh, y teuth vyaj an kertik dhe dhiwedh ow krena – mes ny hwarva henna kyns ow bos spenys yn tien y’m korf drefenn ow assayans dhe driga a’m sav, kelmys ow diwla ha’m dewdroes.

David was making a bee-line for them. When he reached the group, he roared once again and threw himself among them. At first, I thought he was trying to fight them – but, no, he was merely pushing them aside, pushing them aside to share in what they had. What they had was a small, frail corpse. By the crimson of the blood pooling around it, I’d say the kill (if that’s what it was) was very recent, only a matter of minutes since. The zombies were noisily feasting on their prize. By its proximity to the southern exit of the building, I guessed that’s where the victim had come from – no doubt making a desperate dash for freedom. Yes, I could see it was a girl. She hadn’t got far. Her last horrific moments seem to have been spent trying to cower under the round wooden seat set around the large eucalypt tree. Very poor cover indeed. She must have been desperate. Wherever she had been within the building, it had kept her safe for at least 7 days. So, why run now? Why not keep waiting for help to arrive? I’ll never know. Perhaps the water ran out. Perhaps, the food. I watched David and the zombies devouring the unfortunate woman. Totally engrossed in their feast, they utterly ignored me. Hearing the ‘festivities’, other zombies soon came and joined in. A week ago, they had been young men and this young woman had probably been among their classmates. Fascinated but feeling relatively safe, I couldn’t help but edge closer to observe the unbelievable event that was occurring before my eyes. Then, it happened: One of the zombies paused and rose from its vile feasting just long enough for me to catch a glimpse of the young woman’s face. “David!” I screamed. “We know her! That’s Meryl.” David lifted his head very briefly and flicked his dead eyes in my direction. “So?” they seemed to say. He returned immediately to the business at hand. I kicked savagely at his rear – to no good purpose. He rose to his feet and turned full-face to me.
Yth esa Davydh ow resek yn syth troha’n kolm. Pan dhrehedhas an bagas ma, ev a vedhyglas unnweyth arta hag omdhegesi yntra’n zombis erell. Yn kynsa le, ev a assaya dhe vatalyas orta - po dell grysen. Mes nyns o henna ewn. Nyns esa saw orth aga herdhya a-denewen – rag kevrenna y’n pyth esa seulabrys dhedha. An pyth esa dhedha o korf, korf byghan ha gwann. Yth esa goes pur rudhogh a- dro dhodho, yn poll ow tevi. Ytho, dhe’m breus vy, an ladhva (mar pe ladhva yn hwir) re hwarsa a-gynsow, nans o nebes mynysennow martesen. Yth esa an zombis ow koelya yn trosek orth aga fiwas. Drefenn y nester dhe entrans soth an drehevyans, my a grysi henn o le may tothya an studhyer ma – ow kul fysk yn desper rag frankedh, heb dhout. Ya, my a ylli gweles hy vos myrgh. Ny ressa hi pellder meur. Hy folsyow finek, meur aga euthekter, re via spenys, dell heveli, owth assaya plattya yn-dann an vynk brennek ha rond settyes a-dro dhe’n eukalyptwythenn meur. Skoes pur druan, yn hwir. Y fia hi yn desper, dell heveli. Plepynag y fia a-ji dhe’n drehevyans, ev re’s gwithsa orth danjer dres seythun y’n lyha. Ytho, prag y ressa hi lemmyn? Prag na bessas gortos rag gweres? Ny godhvydhav nevra. Martesen, nyns esa dowr na fella dhedhi. Martesen, boes vyth. My a viras orth Davydh ha’n zombis hag i dybrys an venyn anfeusik. Sedhys-oll y’ga fest, i a skonya aswonn ahanan yn tien. Pan glywsens an ‘darvosow lowen’ ma, zombis erell a dheuth yn skon rag omjunya ynna. Nans o seythun, an yonkers ha’n venyn yowynk ma a allsa bos warbarth, yn mysk aga hesstudhydhyoryon. My a omglywo bos salow mes yth esa dhymm hwans meur godhvos. Ytho, nyns esa dewis vyth dhymm saw omneshe rag merkya an hwarvos ankrysadow esa ow hwarvos a-dherag ow dewlagas. Ena, y hwarva ev: onan yntra’n zombis a bowesas ha sevel, diberthys dhiworth y fest los dres pols, termyn hir lowr rag ow kachya golok bejeth an venyn yowynk. “Davydh!” my a armas. “Ni a’s aswonn! Meryl yw.” Davydh a sevis pols y benn ha flykkya y dhewlagas marow wor’tu ha my. “Hag ytho?” a leveris an dhewlagas na, dell heveli. A-dhesempis, ev a dhasattendyas dhe’y ‘negys’. My a botyas yn krev orth y gilgorf – dhe borpos da vyth. Ev a sevis ha treylya dhymm. Yth esen ni ow sevel bejeth dhe vejeth. 33

They went forward steadily, but they soon saw that the Road was further away than they had imagined. Even without a fog, their sleep at mid-day would have prevented them from reaching it until after nightfall on the day before. The dark line they had seen was not a line of trees but a line of bushes growing on the edge of a deep dike with a steep wall on the further side. Tom said that it had once been the boundary of a kingdom, but a very long lime ago. He seemed to remember something sad about it, and would not say much.
I a besyas war-rag, mes kyns pell i a welas an Fordh dhe vos pella es aga awen. Heb ardak an niwl, aga hosk dhe hanter-dydh a’s lettsa y dhrehedhes hwath kyns nos dhe’n jydh kyns. Nyns o an linenn dewl a welsons linenn a wydh, mes linenn a brisk, ow tevi war amal tommenn dhown gans fos serth dhe’n tu arall. Tom a leveris bos homma finfos myghterneth, mes nans yw termyn pell. Dell hevelis, ev a govhi neppyth trist yn hy hever, ha ny lavarsa ev meur.

Exodus 10 1And the LORD said unto Moses, Go in unto Pharaoh: for I have hardened his heart, and the heart of his servants, that I might shew these my signs before him: 2and that thou mayest tell in the ears of thy son, and of thy son's son, what things I have wrought in Egypt, and my signs which I have done among them; that ye may know how that I am the LORD. 3And Moses and Aaron came in unto Pharaoh, and said unto him, Thus saith the LORD God of the Hebrews, How long wilt thou refuse to humble thyself before me? let my people go, that they may serve me. 4Else, if thou refuse to let my people go, behold, to morrow will I bring the locusts into thy coast: 5and they shall cover the face of the earth, that one cannot be able to see the earth: and they shall eat the residue of that which is escaped, which remaineth unto you from the hail, and shall eat every tree which groweth for you out of the field: 6and they shall fill thy houses, and the houses of all thy servants, and the houses of all the Egyptians; which neither thy fathers, nor thy fathers' fathers have seen, since the day that they were upon the earth unto this day. And he turned himself, and went out from Pharaoh. 7And Pharaoh's servants said unto him, How long shall this man be a snare unto us? let the men go, that they may serve the LORD their God: knowest thou not yet that Egypt is destroyed? 8And Moses and Aaron were brought again unto Pharaoh: and he said unto them, Go, serve the LORD your God: but who are they that shall go? 9And Moses said, We will go with our young and with our old, with our sons and with our daughters, with our flocks and with our herds will we go; for we must hold a feast unto the LORD. 10And he said unto them, Let the LORD be so with you, as I will let you go, and your little ones: look to it; for evil is before you. 11Not so: go now ye that are men, and serve the LORD; for that ye did desire. And they were driven out from Pharaoh's presence. 12And the LORD said unto Moses, Stretch out thine hand over the land of Egypt for the locusts, that they may come up upon the land of Egypt, and eat every herb of the land, even all that the hail hath left. 13And Moses stretched forth his rod over the land of Egypt, and the LORD brought an east wind upon the land all that day, and all that night; and when it was morning, the east wind brought the locusts. 14And the locusts went up over all the land of Egypt, and rested in all the coasts of Egypt: very grievous were they; before them there were no such locusts as they, neither after them shall be such. 15For they covered the face of the whole earth, so that the land was darkened; and they did eat every herb of the land, and all the fruit of the trees which the hail had left: and there remained not any green thing in the trees, or in the herbs of the field, through all the land of Egypt. 16Then Pharaoh called for Moses and Aaron in haste; and he said, I have sinned against the LORD your God, and against you. 17Now therefore forgive, I pray thee, my sin only this once, and intreat the LORD your God, that he may take away from me this death only. 18And he went out from Pharaoh, and intreated the LORD. 19And the LORD turned a mighty strong west wind, which took away the locusts, and cast them into the Red sea; there remained not one locust in all the coasts of Egypt. 20But the LORD hardened Pharaoh's heart, so that he would not let the children of Israel go. 21And the LORD said unto Moses, Stretch out thine hand toward heaven, that there may be darkness over the land of Egypt, even darkness which may be felt. 22And Moses stretched forth his hand toward heaven; and there was a thick darkness in all the land of Egypt three days: 23they saw not one another, neither rose any from his place for three days: but all the children of Israel had light in their dwellings. 24And Pharaoh called unto Moses, and said, Go ye, serve the LORD; only let your flocks and your herds be stayed: let your little ones also go with you. 25And Moses said, Thou must give us also sacrifices and burnt offerings, that we may sacrifice unto the LORD our God. 26Our cattle also shall go with us; there shall not an hoof be left behind; for thereof must we take to serve the LORD our God; and we know not with what we must serve the LORD, until we come thither. 27But the LORD hardened Pharaoh's heart, and he would not let them go. 28And Pharaoh said unto him, Get thee from me, take heed to thyself, see my face no more; for in that day thou seest my face thou shalt die. 29And Moses said, Thou hast spoken well, I will see thy face again no more.
AN BIBEL KERNEWEK 2020 Eksodus 10 Lokustes 1Ena an ARLOEDH a leveris dhe Moyses, ‘Ke bys yn Faro; rag my re galeshas y golonn ha kolonn y servysi may tiskwetthiv ow arwoedhyow ma yntredha, 2ha may leverri yn klewans dha vab ha mab dha vab fatell wrug vy kammdhyghtya an Ejyptianys ha pana arwoedhyow a wrug vy yntredha; may hwodhvi my dhe vos an ARLOEDH.’ 3Ytho Moyses hag Aron eth a-ji dhe Faro, ha leverel dhodho, ‘Yndellma y lever an ARLOEDH, Duw an Ebrowyon, “Pygemmys prys y neghydh omuvelhe a-ragov? Gas ow fobel dhe vones ma'm serfyons. 4Rag mar neghydh gasa ow fobel dhe vones, otta, a-vorow y kyrghav lokustes a-berth y'th pow, 5hag i a wra kudha enep an tir, ma na wello denvyth an tir; hag i a wra dybri an pyth eus gesys dhis wosa an keser, hag i a wra dybri oll agas gwydh a dyv y'n gwel. 6Hag i a wra lenwel dha jiow ha chiow oll dha servysi hag Ejyp oll; dell na welas na dha dasow na dha dasow-wynn, a'n jydh may teudhons war an nor bys y'n jydh hedhyw.” ’ Ena ev a dreylyas ha mos a-dhiworth Faro. 7Ha servysi Faro a leveris dhodho, ‘Pygemmys prys y fydh an den ma antell dhyn? Gas an dus dhe vones may serfyons an ARLOEDH aga Duw; a ny gonvedhydh na hwath bos Ejyp distruys?’ 8Ytho Moyses hag Aron a veu kyrghys dhe Faro arta; hag ev a leveris dhedha, ‘Kewgh, servyewgh an ARLOEDH agas Duw; mes piw a wra mos?’ 9Ha Moyses a leveris, ‘Ni a wra mos gans agan re yowynk ha'gan re goth; ni a wra mos gans agan mebyon ha'gan myrghes ha gans agan flokkys ha'gan oghen, rag y koedh dhyn synsi goel an ARLOEDH.’ 10Hag ev a leveris dhedha, ‘Re bo an ARLOEDH genowgh, mar kwrav agas gasa hwi ha'gas re vyghan dhe vones. Mirewgh, hwi a'gas beus neb tebel dowl yn agas brys. 11Na! Kewgh, an wer yntredhowgh, ha servya an ARLOEDH, rag bos henna agas hwans.’ Hag i a veu gorrys a-ves a wolok Faro. 12Ena an ARLOEDH a leveris dhe Moyses, ‘Ystynn dha dhorn dres pow Ejyp rag an lokustes, may teffons war bow Ejyp, ha dybri pub plans y'n tir, peub a veu gesys gans an keser.’ 13Ytho Moyses a ystynnas y welenn dres pow Ejyp, ha'n ARLOEDH a dhros gwyns a'n howldrevel war an tir oll an jydh na hag oll an nos na; ha pan o myttin, gwyns an howldrevel a dhros an lokustes. 14Ha'n lokustes a dheuth dres oll pow Ejyp, ha powes war bpow Ejyp oll; hes mar dew, bythkweth kyns ny veu gwelys lokustes a'n par ma, na ny vydh yndellma a-wosa. 15Rag i a gudhas enep an tir oll, may feu tewlhes an tir, hag i a dhybris oll an plansow y'n tir, hag oll frut an gwydh a veu gesys gans an keser; ha nyns esa glasneth vyth, na gwydhenn na plansow an gwel, dre bow Ejyp oll. 16Ena Faro a elwis Moyses hag Aron yn fysk, ha leverel, ‘My re beghas erbynn an ARLOEDH agas Duw, hag er agas pynn. 17Lemmyn ytho, gevewgh dhymm ow fegh, my a'gas pys, an unn prys ma, ha pysi an ARLOEDH agas Duw dhe gemmeres unnweyth an ankow ma ahanav.’ 18Ytho ev eth a-ves a Faro, ha pysi an ARLOEDH. 19Ha'n ARLOEDH a dreylyas gwyns pur grev a'n howlsedhes, a dhrehevis an lokustes ha'ga herdhya y'n Mor Rudh; ny veu gesys lokust vyth yn pow Ejyp oll. 20Mes an ARLOEDH a galeshas kolonn Faro, ha ny asas fleghes Ysrael dhe vones. Tewlder 21Ena an ARLOEDH a leveris dhe Moyses, ‘Ystynn dha dhorn war-tu ha nev may fo tewlder dres pow Ejyp, tewlder a vo tavadow.’ 22Ytho Moyses a ystynnas y dhorn war-tu ha nev, hag yth esa tewlder tew yn pow Ejyp oll dre dri dydh; 23ny welsons an eyl y gila, na ny sevis nagonan a'y le dre dri dydh; mes mebyon Ysrael oll a's teva golow y'n tyller mayth esens trigys. 24Ena Faro a elwis Moyses, ha leverel, ‘Kewgh dhe servya an ARLOEDH; marnas gesewgh agas flokkys ha'gas oghen dhe wortos. Agas fleghes ynwedh a yll mos genowgh.’ 25Mes Moyses a leveris, ‘Res yw dhis gorra yn agan diwleuv sakrifisow hag offrynnow leskys may hyllyn offrynna dhe'n ARLOEDH agan Duw. 26Agan gwarthek ynwedh a dal mos genen; ny vydh gesys karn pynag, rag y koedh dhyn aga hemmeres dhe servya an ARLOEDH agan Duw, ha ny wodhon gans pyth y koedh dhyn servya an ARLOEDH erna dhyffyn di.’ 27Mes an ARLOEDH a galeshas kolonn Faro, ha ny vynna aga gasa dhe vones. 28Ena Faro a leveris dhodho, ‘Ke ahanav; ha bydh war na welli nevra arta ow fas; rag y'n jydh may hwelli ow fas ty a verow.’ 29Moyses a leveris, ‘Dell leverydh! Ny wrav gweles dha fas arta.’

“No, Sir. Of course not, Sir.” Why was this bastard so interested in me and the coffin? How long before the next scheduled stop when, presumably, he’d get out of the baggage car? He contemplated my words further. “You say he’s one of ours. Was he killed in the recent action?” I remembered that the official line was that there had been no casualties. “I’m not at liberty to say, Sir,” I replied, a slight quaver creeping into my voice. “...because,” he continued, “there were no casualties on our side, Sergeant. Isn’t that so?” “I understand that to be the official position, Sir,” I said, with a degree of uncertainty. Uncertainty – the enemy of convincing falsehood! “So, this soldier must have died of a head cold, Sergeant?” “That would have to be correct, Sir – since no-one was killed in the recent action.” The Major smiled benignly. My plainly duplicitous answer seemed to please him. Perhaps he would leave me alone now? How long to the next stop? “That’s an extremely fancy coffin for a soldier. How is that, Sergeant?” “I am led to believe it was the only coffin readily available at short notice, Sir,” I replied. A truthful answer! But not one that the Major liked. He held out his hand towards me: “Show me your orders, Sergeant!” I reached into my inside pocket and pulled out the envelope that I had stolen along with the uniforms. I handed it to the Major and kept my eyes to the front, still standing to attention.
“Na, Syrr. Heb mar, Syrr.” Prag y kevi an bastard bern a’n par ma ynnov vy ha’n eler? Pes termyn a dremensa kyns es dell hedhsa an tren arta? (Pan dhiyskynnsa ev dhiworth an koch-fardellow, dell waytyen.) Ev a ombrederis a-dro dhe’m geryow. “Ty re leveris ev dhe vos dhyn ni. A veu ledhys y’n vatel a-gynsow?” My a borthas kov an ‘linenn soedhek’: nyns esa denvyth shyndyes yn batel an ynkleudhva (po yn ‘batel an bennskol’, mars yw henna gwell dhiso jy). “Nyns ov rydh dhe leverel, Syrr,” a worthybis vy, kren byghan ow tos dhe’m lev. “... drefenn...,” a besyas ev, “nag esa tus vryw vyth dh’agan para, a Serjont. A nyns yw henna gwir?” “My a gonvedh henna dhe vos an studh soedhek, Syrr,” a leveris vy, gans nebes ansurneth. Ansurneth – eskar dhe woegneth perswadus! “Ytho, res o dhe’n souder ma bos marow drefenn anwoes pur dhrog, a Serjont?” “Henn a via ewn, Syrr – drefenn nag esa denvyth ledhys y’n vatel a-gynsow.” Y finhwarthas an Ughkapten heb atti. Ow gorthyp, meur y dhewblegeth, a heveli plegya dhodho. Martesen, ny vellsa ev na fella genev lemmyn? Py pellder dhe’n nessa gorsav? “Henn yw geler afinus dres eghenn rag souder. Fatell yw henna, a Serjont?” “Ledyes ov dhe grysi na vos geler arall kavadow y’n termyn na, Syrr,” a worthybis. Gorthyp gwir! Byttegyns, nyns yw gorthyp o da vytholl gans an Ughkapten. Y leuv ystynnys troha my, ev a harthas: “Diskwedh dhymm dha arghadow, a Serjont!” My a worras ow leuv a-berth y’m jerkynn ha tenna dhiworto an maylyer re ledhsen gans an uniformys. My a’n ro dhe’n Ughkapten, ow kwitha ow dewlagas a-dheragov hag my sevys hwath yn attendyans.