she would love oor Kornies

she would love

Vertalings in die woordeboek Engels - Kornies

hi a garsa

voorbeelde

He/She/It had loved / He/She/It would love
karsa

Softly caressing her hair As the sun was rising, before my love had awakened Did I see on looking closely That she was silently weeping, hiding her misery? Tear turned to frown And when I spoke... in one leap... Gone was my love, my sweetheart No doubt you would recognise her well No wonder, although my heart’s completely broken: She has left me I long for her She has left me She wants to forget She has left me And it seems I don't matter But she is to blame When I looked up she had gone No longer could I see her, only her track in the yellow corn The dawn sky was red The sun sparkling through leaves and a cow was lowing Though she had disappeared from sight Her anger and cruel words were still with me Gone was my love, my sweetheart. No doubt you would recognise her well. No wonder, although my heart’s completely broken: She has left me I long for her She has left me She wants to forget She has left me And it seems I don't matter But she is to blame But she is to blame But she is to blame But she is to blame
Yn medhel ow chershya hy blew Ha'n howl ow trehevel, kyns ow hares dhe sevel A welis vy dre hwithra gluw Hi dhe ola heb gul son, ow kudha hy guw? Dagren eth ha bos talgam Ha pan gewsis vy... yn unn lamm... Gyllys 'veu ow hares, ow huv-kolon Heb mar, y hwruss'ta yn ta hy aswon Nyns yw marth kyn fo oll trogh ow holon: Ahanav vy res eth hi Y yeunav rygdhi Ahanav vy res eth hi Hi a vynn ankevi Ahanav vy res eth hi Ha, del hevel, 'th ov heb bri Mes dhe vlamya yw hi Ha galsa pan viris yn-bann Namoy my ny's gwelyn, marnas ol y'n ys melyn An ebron orth bora o rudh Howl ow klyttra dre dhel hag y fedhyglas bugh Ha galsa glan a'm gwel Hwath genev hy sorr ha'y geryow fell Gyllys 'veu ow hares, ow huv-kolon Heb mar, y hwruss’ta yn ta hy aswon Nyns yw marth kyn fo oll trogh ow holon: Ahanav vy res eth hi Y yeunav rygdhi Ahanav vy res eth hi Hi a vynn ankevi Ahanav vy res eth hi Ha, del hevel, 'th ov heb bri Mes dhe vlamya yw hi Mes dhe vlamya yw hi Mes dhe vlamya yw hi Mes dhe vlamya yw hi

A few years ago, I hear a story from a friend's mum about a local cattle charmer in the Liskeard area. Her name was Mrs Harris and, according to the story, she was the mother of a local tyre salesman in the town (there's a clue in the name). In the story, the farmer would phone Mrs Harris and she would heal the cows just by knowing in which field there were. This is one of my favourite stories and I love the idea of learning cattle charming - but I haven't found a course yet... Anyway, below is a poem I wrote celebrating Mrs Harris and the magic of cattle charming - be it true or false, it's still a lovely story.
Nans yw lies bledhen, my a glowas drolla gans mamm koweth a-dro dhe husores bughes leel yn arenebedh Lyskerrys. Hy hanow o Mrs Harris ha, herwydh an drolla, hi o mamm dhe werther bondennow aswonys yn ta y'n dre (an hanow yw klou). Y'n drolla, an tiek a vynnsa pellgowsel gans Mrs Harris ha hi a vynnsa gwellhe bughes jest dre wodhvos yn py ke mayth esens. An drolla ma yw onan an mogha kerys genev ha my a gar an tybyans a dhyski husa bughes - mes ny drovis vy kors hwath. Yn neb kas, a-is yma bardhonek a skrifis a solempen Mrs Harris ha'n pystri a husa bughes - a pe po gwir po fals, yth yw hwath drolla hweg.