not bad oor Kornies
not bad
en
(idiomatic) Reasonably good.
Vertalings in die woordeboek Engels - Kornies
nyns drog
Geskatte vertalings
Vertoon algoritmies gegenereerde vertalings
voorbeelde
Advanced filtering
Voorbeelde moet herlaai word.
it is not bad
Yth esov owth eva leth.langbot langbot
not bad
Da yw genev studhya Sowsnek.langbot langbot
neither good not bad
My a skrifas lyther dhe Jim.langbot langbot
it is not bad
Nyns ov dha vab.langbot langbot
it's not bad
Da yw gansa mowesi.langbot langbot
horse meat is not a bad thing
Yth esov vy owth oberi.langbot langbot
it is not a bad thing
Hwerow yw an korev ma.langbot langbot
I do not like bad children.
Res vydh dhedha gortos.langbot langbot
it's not a bad thing
Prag y fynnydh y wodhvos?langbot langbot
I am not as bad as they, I think.
Kows lenta, mar pleg.englishtainment-tm-W8Z4ndXS englishtainment-tm-W8Z4ndXS
The weather’s not good today! It’s bad.
Gwra e’ dha honan.langbot langbot
You bad man,you shall not be a husband.
Nyns yw da gans Tom fleghes.langbot langbot
The weather’s not good today! It’s bad. / "Drog put as the first word gives it emphasis. Kewer, ‘weather’ is fem, so it’s always gewer after an. And hi in the second bit."
Ny allav vy eva leth.langbot langbot
Will his first word be spoken in school and might not the staff recognise it? That wouldn’t be as bad as influencing him entirely to use only English.
Ev a brenas lyver a-dro dhe Sowsnek yn lyverji.langbot langbot
These are as good as this, I hear. The wire is not as long as the other one. Until now the weather is not as wet as it was yesterday. I am not as bad as they, I think. Is Mark as sad as he was (on) Sunday? Suddenly I felt as happy as a bird. Isn't her house as small as a miner's hut? Everything will be as safe as a parson's house. We are not as lucky as her. Don't talk so foolishly! Lowena was as nimble as me (at) dancing. As I hear, that beer is like warm water. Were you as cold as you say? It's as easy to learn Cornish as to learn any language. It was two hours later when she came. A million is more than nine hundred thousand by a hundred thousand.
Ple’ma dha gerens?langbot langbot
Bilbo Baggins called it a party, but it was really a variety of entertainments rolled into one. Practically everybody living near was invited. A very few were overlooked by accident, but as they turned up all the same, that did not matter. Many people from other parts of the Shire were also asked; and there were even a few from outside the borders. Bilbo met the guests (and additions) at the new white gate in person. He gave away presents to all and sundry - the latter were those who went out again by a back way and came in again by the gate. Hobbits give presents to other people on their own birthdays. Not very expensive ones, as a rule, and not so lavishly as on this occasion; but it was not a bad system. Actually in Hobbiton and Bywater every day in the year it was somebody’s birthday, so that every hobbit in those parts had a fair chance of at least one present at least once a week. But they never got tired of them.
A garsewgh hwi kavos nebes sugra?langbot langbot
Ah, knave, it shall be a bad leap for thee | There is strife between the two rogues | They will not obey me crying out
Res yw dhymm bos omma.langbot langbot
This was exactly what I needed. What was happening ‘out there’? How far had the plague spread and what was the world doing about it? Curiously, the Zombie Apocalypse was not the leading news item. “That’s probably good news,” I thought. “Probably.” As it turned out, the discussion that Paul and I had recently, outside the crypt, had been half-right. This was not bad, considering our almost complete lack of data at the time. The bit we’d guessed correctly concerned how far the vanguard zombies had managed to spread the plague simply by walking out from ground zero in Melbourne. The current ‘battle front’ was indeed being fought on three separate fronts: one in each of the three regional cities of Geelong, Ballarat and Bendigo. The vanguard had got to those cities within days of the initial outbreak, catching the populace completely unprepared – just as Melbourne and its suburbs had been. This vanguard was being continually reinforced, from Melbourne, by a steady supply of graduate or ‘new’ zombies. (That is, the guys who’d been bitten in the first few days but had taken some time to ‘change’.) So, each of those regional cities had now become the site of daily pitched battles between the zombies and a relatively ad hoc civilian-cum-military resistance. Given the inadequate nature of the initial response, the civil authorities had determined that it was better to impose a complete news blackout at local level rather than cause unnecessary panic among the civilians. Do you follow that logic? No, I didn’t either. In those first few days, it seems the military authorities took the view that, if they could do nothing effective to counter the zombies, it was preferable to maintain civil order in places where the zombies had not yet reached (and simply abandon the residents of Greater Melbourne to their fate – which neatly explained why we had seen no helicopters after Day One). Well, maybe there was a certain misconceived logic in those first few days – when the authorities thought they might yet contain the plague to Melbourne and the area immediately surrounding that city. But this strategy, if that is a worthy description, gave the residents of the three outlying regional cities no warning, no chance to flee in an orderly manner – or to start preparing their defences as soon as possible.
“Tomm, lavar dhymm, mar pleg ...” – “Mar pleg!”langbot langbot
Sure, there’s a few videos on Youtube, Radio an Gernewegva and some short stories and novels translated into Cornish from English but I am looking ahead with a worry. Much of the media in Cornish is for learners, adult learners for the most part. That isn’t bad, but it’s not enough to entertain a child through childhood and therefore I fear he will end up using English a lot, or worse, deciding to use it as his chosen language.
Nyns eus peder hwor dhymm.langbot langbot
Why was that? Just as many girls had been bitten – maybe more. Some had gone down with a fever but never real bad. No, not real bad. In a day or two, there was no more fever, no more symptoms at all. But the guys? Well, every one that had been bitten was now gone – except David. And finally, he, too, stood on the threshold of his next existence (if ‘existence’ was an apt word for what the others had become.) He moaned a little. I poured a little water on his lips. Mopped his brow. He relaxed and settled again. “Not long to go now, Mate,” I said, knowing he could not hear me. “But I’m still here. I won’t leave you.” I knew I would not leave him. Not ever. It was inconceivable. How had it come to this: a bunch of starving, scared kids holed up in a university library, surrounded by a mob of creatures that loitered noisily outside, wishing for nothing but to devour them? There had been no warning, no warning at all. This is how it was for us: David and I were sitting in a French lecture, ground floor, Redmond Barry Building, taking in lots about “Les philosophes”, when bang! In burst eight, ten, maybe a dozen of them, roaring and tearing, roaring and tearing. We thought it was a joke at first, some sort of student prank for ‘Prosh Week’. Only it wasn’t Prosh Week. And then one of the things seized the lecturer and tore her throat clean out, and when her arterial blood squirted some feet in the air, David and I knew it was no prank. The screaming started. Shrill, panicked screaming. The students were mainly female – David and I were very definitely in the minority. (We had liked it that way.) The creatures then hurled themselves at those in the auditorium – at those in the front rows, the most studious – and started tearing at them. More blood, much more blood, shredded clothing and flesh.
Koth, hager ha tew yw.langbot langbot
You better watch out, You better not cry, Better not pout, I'm telling you why: Santa Claus is comin' to town. He's making a list , And checking it twice, Gonna find out Who's naughty and nice. Santa Claus is comin' to town. He sees you when you're sleepin', He knows when you're awake, he knows if you've been bad or good, So be good for goodness sake. You better watch out, You better not cry, Better not pout, I'm telling you why: Santa Claus is comin' to town.
Pan vinhwerthydh, lowen ov vy.langbot langbot
Returning again (without equal as a bad bargainer; no one can work out how much he lost on the deal) Judas greeted Jesus falsely, as if he were being affectionate. In the end his heart did not accord with his speech.
An maw a dheber bara.langbot langbot
THE RELIEF OF THE BAILLIEU It was just as Paul had described: a large refrigerated truck, ‘parked’ at a set of traffic lights in Lygon Street, the door of the cab wide open and no driver in sight – and the diesel engine was still idling. (Frugal beasts, those diesel engines.) The vehicle was otherwise untouched – what good was it to zombies? So, David and I approached, and opened the rear doors without difficulty. The driver had obviously only just started his delivery run – the refrigerated compartment was absolutely full of frozen foodstuffs of all kinds. Meat and poultry – frozen and processed. Fruit and vegetables. Pallet loads of it. Literally, tonnes of it. More than enough to feed the fugitives in the Baillieu for weeks. “Hey, Dave! Paul is a complete genius! We could have spent weeks looking for something like this.” David said nothing – not even a grunt came from him. This stuff was now unimportant to him and, I guessed, he wanted to be elsewhere (the basement of Union House) more than ever. “Too bad, Dave,” I said. “I’m not going back there.” (Not unless I absolutely had to.) I was minded to jump into the cab and drive straight to the Baillieu but I had another idea. I would drive it back to the crypt in the cemetery or, at least, as near as I could get this lumbering great vehicle to it. “Jump in, Dave,” I said. “We’re going for a little ride.” David reluctantly complied – he had no other pressing engagements. Of course, you might object that this all sounds highly improbable – and, indeed it was, the finding of the truck, at least. But there was no improbability about my being able to drive that truck. True it is that I did not possess an articulated vehicle licence and had never tried to get one. True also is that, if called upon to drive this vehicle further than the mile or so that I now needed to drive, I would probably have crashed the truck or damaged it irreparably.
Res ywdhymm dybri.langbot langbot
THE TIDE TURNS. The basement of Union house had not improved. It still stank of rotting human remains which were scattered about here and there. It was still populated by dozens of zombies in various states of activity. It was still seemingly ruled by that wretched tortoiseshell cat. And David still seemed to think of it as home. As we entered this hellish pit, I felt David’s warm and contented glow in the pit of my own stomach. The fellow-feeling that David and I had shared throughout our lives was now a source of considerable revulsion to me. As I felt David’s pleasure, I thought of that trite saying “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother” and found myself singing “He ain’t zombie, he’s my brother.” Hysterical. The cat turned and glared at me – the zombies didn’t notice my off-key singing. So, why should it bother that stupid cat? Did it matter? No. Figuring out a bad-tempered feline was not going to solve the zombie apocalypse. (Was it?) I knew that David would not be moved from his home-away-from-home. So, despite the nausea-inducing sights and smells, I had no choice but to make the best of it (or perish horrifically like poor, sweet Meryl.) I found a corner which was relatively free from both zombies and human detritus – and settled down. Once again, I kept a watchful eye on the cat – but attack did not seem imminent. I do believe I even nodded off for a brief time without coming to harm. David seemed happy amongst his own. He and his kind just seemed to ‘hang out’ together. There were the usual grunts and groans, the occasional squabble over the fresher pieces of ‘food’. (There had been a minor re-supply of meat in our absence.) Mostly, however, they just milled about or simply sat together. It was like the worst party you could possibly imagine – but they seemed happy enough with it.
Da yw gans Maria mires orth an bellwolok.langbot langbot
47 sinne gevind in 8 ms. Hulle kom uit baie bronne en word nie nagegaan nie.