secondly oor Kornies

secondly

bywoord

In the second place.

Vertalings in die woordeboek Engels - Kornies

nessa

sekondli

yn nessa

Secondly

voorbeelde

“If one in six zombies will recover,” she said, now somewhat incredulous, “and is therefore now being killed unnecessarily by our forces, then that’s ...” “...a major war crime,” I completed her thought. “Yes, I think that was what I said the other day to anyone who cared to listen – before Dr Mengele had me silenced. Am I right?” Ingrid ignored my question – and the reference to ‘Dr Mengele’, her superior officer . “But this is simply appalling,” she continued. “If it’s true what you say, we are bombing, shooting and burning thousands of kids who would otherwise recover. Why didn’t you say anything about this at that first lecture, when you had the chance?” I raised my eyebrows at her in mild surprise. She had obviously stopped listening to me - both now and back then. I let it pass. “Cast your mind back to that lecture, doctor. Firstly, you may recall that I was rather rudely interrupted before I was able to finish my comments to the assembled troops ...” Ingrid cast her mind back – and nodded a sheepish concession to me. “ ... and, secondly, what exactly do you think our ‘military planners’ would do differently if they thought the ones who might survive were probably ‘just a bunch of poofters’ - or ‘faggots’, as the doughboys would call them. Ingrid nodded again – slowly this time. She understood what I was saying only too well. The armed forces of the 1970’s did not tolerate gays within their ranks – and the generals would have little care if some gays were ‘wasted’ as ‘collateral damage’. Official tolerance of gay personnel would have to wait until the 21st century. Maybe Ingrid herself was gay – I didn’t ask and was not told. (How ironic – in view of the US military policy which was to come, much later.) In any event, she fell silent for a time and we continued to sit opposite each other at that small wooden table in a stuffy interview room.
“Mars omwellha onan yntra hwegh an zombis,” yn-medh hi, nebes ankryjyk lemmyn, “hag ytho yma an rann na ow bos ledhys gans agan lu, henn yw ...” “...drog-ober breselyek meur.” My a worfennas hy thybyans. “Ya, henn o pyth esen ow leverel an jydh arall, dell grysav – dhe’n dus gans bern lowr a woslowes orthymm – kyns beuv gwrys tawesek gans Doktour Mengele. Ov vy ewn?” Ingrid a skonyas aswonn ow govynn – ha’m kampoellans a ‘Dhoktour Mengele’, hy ughella soedhek. “Mes hemm yw euthyk yn tien,” a besyas hi. “Mars yw gwir, an pyth re leversysta, yth eson ow thanbellenna, ow leski hag ow thenna war vilyow a yonkers a allsa omwellhe. Prag na leversysta neppyth a-dro dhe hemma dres an kynsa areth, pan esa chons dhiso jy?” My a sevis ow diwabrans, kynth o byghan ow marth. Yn apert, y hedhsa hi goslowes orthymm – y’n termyn hedhyw hag ena keffrys. My a erviras dh’y asa koedha. “Gwra dasvysytya an areth ma, ‘Dhoktour. Y’n kynsa le, gwra perthi kov ow bos goderrys, yn anhweg, kyns my dhe alloes gorfenna ow hampoellow dhe’n soudoryon ena omguntellys ...” Ingrid a dhasvysytas an areth yn hy brys – ha penndroppya, nebes methek, orthymm. “...hag, y’n nessa le, pyth a grysydh agan ‘towloryon vreselek’ dhe wul yn tihaval mar krysens an re a allsa treusvywya bos yn hwirhaval ‘bagas pouftas’ – po ‘faggots’ dell lavarsa an dowbois.” Ingrid a benndroppyas arta – yn lent an prys ma. Hi a gonvedhsa yn ta pyth esen ow leverel. Ny wodhevi luyow an blydhynnyow 1970 bos dus gethreythel y’ga mysk – ha na via bern vyth yn mysk an bennhembrynkysi mar pe ‘gwastyes’ nebes anedha dre ‘dhamaj keslinek’. Perthyans soedhek personnel kethreydhel, res bia gortos rag henna bys an kansblydhenn 21ves. Martesen Ingrid hy honan o kethreydhel – possybyl o. Ny wovynnis ha ny leveris hi yndella. (Ass o henna ironek – res polysi breselek governans an Statys Unys y’n termyn a dhothya, nebes diwettha.) Yn neb kas, hi a goedhas tawesek dres pols ha ni pesyes bos a’gan esedh dhe bub tu an voes vyghan ma yn stevell-geskows, meur hy kloster.

“Certainly, Sir,” I stammered. “But our comrade is in particularly bad shape and I ...” “Sergeant, I have seen action in Korea, during the ‘Malayan Emergency’ and in ‘Nam as well. How many broken and dismembered human beings do you think I’ve seen during that service?” The question was patronising – but he did have a point. I didn’t answer. I was running out of ideas. “Open the box, Sergeant! That is a direct order!” I commenced, slowly and with feigned difficulty, to unscrew the fastenings that held down the lid. Could I delay the process until we reached the next stop? Maybe – but probably not. The Major became impatient with my progress and started to bellow at me – just as he had at the private who had carried his luggage. David was picking up on this aggravation, of course. Firstly, he could hear the angry words being directed at me and, secondly, I’m sure he could empathetically sense my growing anxiety and fear. After several long minutes, I started unscrewing the final fastening. The Major roughly pushed me aside with a curse and completed the task himself. “This is not going to be pretty,” I thought. But what could I do? As the Major commenced to lift the lid, a grey arm clad in military fatigues shot through the gap between lid and box. David’s hand closed swiftly and securely around the Major’s windpipe – and, quietly but efficiently, crushed it. David had made his first kill in the flickering of an eyelid. I knew better than to try and intervene now – there would have been no purpose. The Major’s limp body slumped to the floor of the carriage and David freed himself from the coffin. David fell upon his prey and feasted. Soon, the floor of the carriage was swimming in blood. David’s busily gnawing face was buried deeply on the flesh of his victim, as seemed to be customary among zombies. So much for getting him cleaned up. So much for fresh clothing. Was this a good time simply to cut my brother adrift? Yes, probably, on any rational consideration of the circumstances.
“Yn sur, Syrr,” a leveris yn greg. “Byttegyns, agan kothman yw yn furv drog dres eghenn ha my ....” “A Serjont, my re welas batelyow yn Korea, dres ‘Goredhomm Malayek’ hag yn ‘Nam ynwedh. Pygemmys tus, terrys ha diskevelysys, a brederydh my dhe weles dres an termynyow na?” Y woynnn o yn kler dhiworth ughel orth isel – mes yth esa poynt da dhodhdo. Ny worthybis mann. Nyns esa tybyansow na fella dhymm lemmyn. “Igor an boks, a Serjont! Henn yw arghadow ewn!” My a dhallathas, yn lent ha gans kaletter fayntys, androgentra an kevrennow a synsi an gorher. A yllyn vy delatya an igeryans bys pan dhrehedsyn an nessa gorsav? Martesen ya – mes, dell heveli, na. Uskis, an Ughkapten a gollas y berthyans gans ow avonsyans ha dalleth arma orthymm – kepar dell armsa orth an souder re dhegsa y fardellow. Yth esa Davydh ow tegemmeres blas an trobel ma. Y’n kynsa le, ev a ylli klywes an geryow serrys ha, y’n nessa le, ev a ylli omglywes ow fienas ha’m own ow tevi – der ow holm broderel. Wosa nebes mynysennow hir, my a dhallathas androgentra an diwettha kevrenn. An Ughkapten a’m herdhyas a-denewen yn harow, molleth war y lev, rag gorfenna an oberenn. “Ny vydh hemma teg,” a brederis vy. Byttegyns, pyth a yllyn gul? Hag an Ughkapten dallethys drehevel an gorher, bregh loes, gwiskys yn uniform breselyek, a dennas der an aswa yntra’n gorher ha’n boks. A- dhistowgh, leuv Davydh a settyas dalghenn war vryansenn an Ughkapten – hag, meur y frether mes yn kosel, ev a’n kropyas. Davydh re wrussa y gynsa ladh yn flykkrans kroghen-lagas. Gwell o na wrav assaya mellya y’n mater lemmyn – ny via porpos da vyth. Korf an Ughkapten a goedhas dhe leur an koch ha Davydh omrydhhes dhiworth an eler. Davydh a goedhas kekeffrys war y breyth ha gul gwledh anodho. Yn skon, yth esa gorherys an leur gans goes. Yth esa fas Davydh ow knias, bysi ha down, war gig an vyktym. (Henn o herwydh usadow an zombis, dell hevel.) Dillas fresk? Tronkys? Henn re via tybyans da, a ny via? Termyn da rag gasa ow broder dhe’n mor? Ya, yn hwirhaval – wosa konsydrans herwydh reson oll an kyrghynnyow.

secondly
/ nessa / / /

Secondly, I need to say thank you to the teachers.
Nessa, yma edhomm dhymm a wodhvos meur ras dhe’n dhyskadoryon.

We strongly support the move towards 'innovative financial instruments' and envisage a significant proportion of the funding moving from grants to loans, guarantees and other financial tools that enable the funds to be recycled and re-used. Secondly, we don’t have all of the answers at County Hall - we work better when we involve residents in helping us shape what we deliver into the future.
Ni a skoodh yn krev an gwayans troha ‘toulys arhansek nowydhadow’ ha dismygi rann a vri an arhesans ow kwaya dhyworth grontys dhe lendyans, mewghyow ha toulys arhansek erel hag wra gallosegi bos eylgylghys ha dasusys an arhasow.

Secondly, we don’t have all of the answers at County Hall - we work better when we involve residents in helping us shape what we deliver into the future.
Nessa, ny’gan beus oll an gorthebow yn Lys Kernow – ni a ober gwell pan omvyskyn gans anedhysi may hallons agan gweres dhe furvya an pyth a dhelivryn y’n termyn a dheu.

secondly
/ yn nessa / / /

Secondly, we will invest in front end research, development and innovation. We intend to develop an e-learning package to extend this in the future.
Nessa, ni a wra kevarhewi yn hwithrans, displegyans ha nowydhheans bleynek.

secondly
/ sekondli / / /

Secondly, we will invest in front end research, development and innovation.
Nessa, ni a wra kevarhewi yn hwithrans, displegyans ha nowydhheans bleynek.

secondly adv. nessa; e'n secònd le
secondly adv. nessa; e'n secònd le

“You haven’t been reading the papers, my friend,” I replied. Our own troops had not long returned from the war and been demobbed. The morale of those remaining had been destroyed, firstly by what had happened to them (and what they had witnessed) in that war and, secondly, by the reception they had received upon their return home. To our great shame, our soldiers were reviled in the street and ignored by those in the government which had sent them (often as 19 year-old conscripts whose ‘number’ had come up in a public ballot.) Many were even spat upon when they returned. They had not asked to go to that war and, in most cases, had only served their country in the way that their revered fathers and grandfathers had done before them. The injustice that they suffered would not be addressed until many years later – and, even then, inadequately and too late for the many who had died (often by their own hand) in the meantime. Of importance to the zombie apocalypse that was now occurring, the Australian Army was, just then, not in prime shape to meet the challenge that unexpectedly confronted the nation. But, as it turned out, they were not so far away even then. After a time, Paul and I realised we could do no more than speculate as to what may have been happening outside Melbourne. So, the conversation turned to more immediate matters. “The folks back at the Baillieu are starving, you know,” I said. “Really starving. They’ve had nothing substantial to eat since this all began – just a few snacks from the vending machines.” “And they are not likely to get re-supplied any time soon, I’d guess,” said Paul. “But why are you concerned? They kicked you out, didn’t they?” “David and I were a package deal: kick him out and you kick me out,” I said. “And they had to kick him out, didn’t they? I hold no grudges. They are still good kids.” No argument from Paul. I continued:
“Yn apert, ny wredh redya an nowodhow-paperyow, ow sos,” a worthybis. Y tehwelsa agan soudoryon dhiworth an vresel nans o berrdermyn – hag y fiens, rann vrassa anedha, digommyttyes dhiworth an lu. Spyrys an re na re remaynsa re via distruys – yn kynsa le, gans pyth re hwarsa dhedha (ha gans pyth a welsens i) dres an vresel na hag, yn nessa le, gans ‘dynnargh’ a dhegemmersens hag i dehwelys yn tre. Meur agan meth, agan soudoryon re via milliges y’n stret ha skonya aswonn dhedha gans an governans re aga danvonnsa (menowgh pan nag ens saw nawnsek bloedh - ha pan dhothya aga niver yn ‘gwari-dall’ poblek.) Yth esa meur re via trewys warnedha pan dhehwelsens. Ny wovynnsens bos danvennys dhe’n vresel ma ha, dres vras, i re servysa aga bro yn fordh kepar dell servysa kyns aga thasow ha’ga thasow-gwynn, meur aga reowta. Ny veu konsydrys yn ewn, an gammhynseth ma re wodhevsens, bys meur a vlydhynnyow a-wosa – hag, ena, nyns o da lowr na skon lowr rag an re a vawrsa (menowgh gans aga dorn aga honan) y’n termyn re dremensa. A-dro dhe’n gordhroglamm esa ow hwarvos y’n tor’ na, nyns o an Lu Ostralek y’n gwella furv rag metya an chalenj re savsa erbynn an genedhel heb gwarnyans. Mes, dell happyas, nyns esa an lu pellder dhiworthyn. Wosa pols, y hwodhyen, Powl ha my, na yllyn ni gul travyth a-der aventurya agan tybyansow a-dro dhe’n hwarvosow yn-mes Melbourne. Ytho, y treylyas an keskows troha’n materow a res. “Yma’n dus y’n Baillieu ow famya, dell wodhesta,” yn-medhav. “Yn hwir, ow famya. Nyns eus dhedha boes vyth a-dhia dalleth an gordhroglamm – a-der nebes kroustyow dhiworth an jynnow-gwerther.” “Ha, dres henna, nyns yw gwirhaval aga bos dasdhabarys yn skon,” yn-medh Powl. “Byttegyns, prag yw henna a vern dhis? I a’th tewlis yn-mes alena, a ny dowlsons?” “Bargen kompassus o Davydh ha my: mara y’n dowlsens yn-mes, y’m towllens yn-mes keffrys,” yn-medhav. “Ha res o dhedha y dewlel yn-mes, a nyns o? Nyns eus drogvrys dhymm. Fleghes da ons hwath.” Dadhel vyth dhiworth Powl. My a besyas: